A Day That Lives On in Infamy

He knocked on my door. I was waiting for him. I acted like I wasn't waiting for him. I think I had been waiting for him my whole life.  I had never seen him before. Heck, I had never even heard of him until a mutual friend (thanks Cindy) called to see if it was ok for her to give him my number. I figured, why not? Either something special will grow from this, or I will make a new friend.  When he called me earlier in the week to see if I would like to go to dinner, the conversation was relaxed and easy. 
 

And then the day came.  And he suddenly was on the other side of the door.  My heart raced, mostly because of the unknown.  I had a lot of baggage.  I was hurt and damaged.  I was healing and didn't need to be hurt again.

Even so, I opened the door.  My first thought was...yep, he's short. Second thought, very handsome. He would later tell me that his first thought was...wow, she has big hair. Tee hee! As he stepped into my house and introduced himself, it felt as if we had already met.  My anxiety and nervousness disappeared.  He glanced up at the pictures on the wall, those of my 2 very young daughters.  He nodded towards the pictures, as if acknowledging my baggage, then smiled and said...they are adorable.  He never treated them like baggage from that moment forward, instead like added bonuses.

Today is a difficult day for me. It has now been 10 years since that day, Nov. 10, 2001, when Brian Halley walked into my life and changed the course of my future.  He showed me how to love, how to really love, how to be loved.  He brought much laughter and happiness into each day.  He made me feel like a million dollars, offering me encouragement, compliments, advice and friendship.  He made me feel alive and evoked in me a passion for life.  I fell in love with him over and over again in the coming months and years.  He was genuinely fun to be with.  His whitty humor, his ornery smile, I tried to soak in all of his affection and love.  He always put the girls and me before himself. 

A few months after we met, I stopped by his house one day for a few minutes. I was trying to tell him a story about something that had happened that day.  He kept kissing me and interrupting the story. Then he jumped to his feet, turned on the stereo to this song, and whisked me around the house.  When the song ended, I burst into tears.  He kept saying, Sweetie, what is wrong?  I was overwhelmed with his love, and thought then that I could not live without him.  That is the song we are dancing to at our wedding in the picture below.

Loving Brian for our short time together here on earth was enough. I figure if I say it over and over again, maybe I will eventually believe it.  I am selfish and want him here with me, and I know I will never stop loving him.  But in truth, I love him enough to know that Heaven is where he belongs now, this earth could not keep him, I could not keep him.  It is true, what they say about loving someone so much that you put their needs above yours.  You see, Brian did that for me almost everyday we were together.  So it was my gift back to him, to put his needs before my own, and to let him go on to live eternally with the Father, free from a cancer only Heaven could cure. Oh sure, he was headed out, whether I gave him permission to go or not.  I love him enough to want him in Heaven instead of physically suffering here with us.  The love we shared was enough to sustain me, to change me for the better, to permeate my soul.

My life was inexplicably changed by the existence of this amazing man, and I am thankful each day for the impact he has made on my life. I will die happy someday, hopefully a long time down the road, knowing I had a love of a lifetime, one that so many only wish for but will never experience.  And I know he will be waiting for me.  I imagine what that moment will be like.  I imagine seeing him and feeling like no time has passed since we were together, even if it has been 50 years.  I imagine his arms around me, and long for that feeling of security, comfort and love that I felt each day with him. 

I wonder about him now.  I know he would be proud of me, at least I hope so. I also know he would have words of encouragement, and would want so much for me not to be hurting.  His smile is etched forever in my heart and mind.  I am so thankful for that day in early November 2001, a day that changed the course of my history and brought to me one of the biggest blessings of my life.  Cancer could not take those precious memories from me, and only made our love stronger. His humor and whit lives on in our son, his love lives on in my heart. 

How it is...

Lately, my mind has spent a lot of time wondering about some really serious stuff. It is funny in an odd way, how a thought pops in my mind, and if I don't want to think about it, I can push it away. Again. And again. But eventually, it resurfaces, and I just have to let the thoughts play out and run their course. I've spent time feeling ashamed of my feelings, but finally come to realize they are just that, feelings. And often, scratching at one feeling uncovers another deeper feeling, and gives me the chance to come to terms with that.

Like being mad at Brian. How freaking crazy is that? But the thing is, I could tell him anything, and one day recently I just finally let it all out. I let him know how angry I am that he is gone, that he left me here to fend for myself, and that Tye doesn't have a daddy. I made it clear how angry I am about my feelings on our family, how the whole dynamics of our home have changed since he's been gone, and how much I want back what I had.  I quit beating around the bush, being all lovey dovey to him, and just let him know.  A lot came from that anger, such as me realizing it is the melanoma I'm angry with, not Brian. And also reminding myself that I am not alone, I have lots of love and support. Come on people, you know it isn't the same. But anyway, also knowing that we do indeed still have a family here to be a part of and love each other. And I am once again reminded that he is not coming back. That part I can't change.

I've been thinking a lot about death. You know, about what it really means to be dead. I drove past the cemetery the other day and thought, jeez, he will be there forever, in his very own spot of this earth.  I went to sleep that night and nightmared all night that I had found out I was dying. I was running all over, trying to finish up whatever needed to be done. Everyone was looking at me with pity. I had a lot of anxiety, but I was excited to see Brian.  Tye and the girls weren't in the dream, so I wasn't thinking about leaving them, more about my life on earth being over, and wondering if it mattered to anyone.  I was running through an airport, as if I was trying to catch a flight, and I felt relief that I wouldn't be heartbroken and full of such gut-wrenching sadness anymore.  I felt like I had waited a lifetime to get to see him again so I could have cared less that I was dying.

I jolted upright and awoke in a sobbing mess. I cried and cried and honestly wasn't sure why I was even crying.  I think a lot of it is that I don't feel Brian here with me. I don't feel his presence or sense him with me.  I don't feel his guidance, and even struggle to draw any strength. Like he vanished off the face of the earth, and I indeed am left to fend for myself.  I look back and can single out a few moments since his death, but I long for a peace that he is with me always.  I've heard about it, and I've read about it. I just don't feel it.  Saying it and thinking it doesn't make me feel it.

I've been thinking a lot about how someone can breathe in and out so many times in their life, and then suddenly just stop.  How in a moment, a life can be snuffed out, their purpose more clearly defined.  All present and future tenses wiped out of existence, and only the past remains.  Special moments become cherished memories.  The days become weeks and months, and eventually years.  Time passes to where the present starts to show no resemblance to the past.  New people come into our lives having known nothing of our loss, sometimes completely failing to ever really know us because of missing this important life-changing event.  I wasn't always a widow.  There was a life before this.  It is just getting pushed back even farther in my mind.  My loss is really no longer a recent event, more so my history.  So much has happened in 3 years and 7 months, and even I have moved forward.

But sometimes, in the quiet of the night, or in moments when I least expect it, I am thrust backwards as if no time has passed. The pain is suddenly as unbearable as the first moment I heard the word hospice or the feel of Brian's last breaths upon my cheek, the look of horror on Rachel's face when she first saw Brian after he had died, the sobs of Amberlea trying to wrap her head around it all, and the feel of Tye wiping my tears at Brian's funeral, begging me to stop crying.

More good memories run through my head than bad. Yet without warning, those other things are still very fresh. For everyone else, time has passed and maybe I should "get over it" or "move on". (my favorite lines). How judgmental. I will probably never again in my life feel the way I felt when I was with Brian, so I'm never going to feel bad for never getting over it.

I have almost forgotten what his voice sounds like. I swore I would never let that happen, and I feel even worse that if I have forgotten, Tye must struggle to remember. I planned to watch our wedding video, I've tried a few times, but I can't do it yet. Just the thought of how happy I was on that day, I don't know if I would survive watching it. Even so, I'm going to attempt sometime over the holidays, mostly because I miss him and I think I am finally to the point that I feel worse not watching it.

I am so thankful that I have an outlet for my feelings. I have been doing a lot of work with a widow and divorce support group, and taking time to reflect on my feelings and work through them has been such a blessing.  I wish I would have found this even sooner so I could have let some of the pain go. I wonder if I ever can let it all go.  It has indeed been my cross to bear, and I have begged the Lord to lighten my load. Somedays it does feel lighter, others even heavier than before.

I even wonder sometimes about the impact someone else can have on us. I think about how much Brian is missed and I wonder about myself. I wonder how I would be missed if I was gone.  Have I made an impact that would be felt in ripples the way Brian has? I wonder so much about me. What about me? Was this what God had planned for me? It seems like a stretch to figure out my purpose. I know it will all be revealed to me someday.  I just want so much to feel some push in some direction. I feel like I'm treading water. The past is gone and I can't see far enough into the future to understand what God wants from me.  I have begged him to show me the way, to bring me peace and use my life for His purpose.  Maybe I am even at the point of wondering if God is even listening. So often it has been as if my cries fell on deaf ears, that He did not see my anguish, or He did not care. I wonder if He is using my life as a tool within His wonderous creation to bring about good in something. I wonder why He chose me to suffer, and why His plan has included so much pain in my life.  I wonder if He knows I have surrendered all that I am for His good, or does He think I have given up? Does my willingness to give it all to God look like I'm not doing my part?  I'm no martyr. Bad things happen to good people.  I just always hoped I would find the good in it all. And then I wonder if that matters, if it really means anything if I myself find the good in it, as long as it is for the good of His divine plan.

I'm getting deep here, maybe realizing that a lot of my struggle is with my faith.  I know we are not puppets, yet I feel as if I have had no control over the devastating events that have shaped my life into what it is now.  I just refuse to believe my life is about picking up the pieces and surviving with what is left. Again, my purpose is not yet known, but I have faith that He already knows, and that is really all that matters.

And the Wave Continues

Holy smoly, what is up today? I could get on here and write a whole bunch about how hunky dory everything is, how time has healed all wounds and God didn't give me more than I can handle.  But the truth is, most days are like that, some bearable, some good, some great.  But some just bite the big one and today seems to be one of those days. And when the floodgates open, man I can't seem to get the tears to stop. Figure maybe I will be cried out by the end of the day and I'll be good to go for a while.
Today I absolutely am so angry that I am the only parent left to raise Tye. I am so very thankful for Tye, but that is a given and I'm not going to go into that because I have always been more than clear on how much I love my kids.  I can't begin to describe the heavy weight on my heart today, wondering how this child is going to turn out, wondering if I will survive all the homework fiascos and all the other challenges, multiplied by the fact that it all falls on my shoulders. I wanted so much today to pass the buck, to let someone else do the talking and let  him know our expectations. There is no good cop bad cop in my house, I am always the bad cop.  Or if I am the good cop, nothing gets accomplished.

And here I'm not even the one without the parent here, it is Tye...oh, wait, my mom is dead too, so there is no mom to call up and share my frustrations and get advice. It was all taken from me, and that is just how it feels right now. 

I know my head will clear, hopefully soon, and I'll go back to what I know is true, that God is taking great care of us and I am strong and I can do this...yada yada yada.  For tonight, I am just sad.

9/11

I am just going to come right out there and say what I am thinking. How in the world these 9/11 families can handle the hype surrounding the 10th anniversary of that horrible day when they lost their loved one is beyond me. I am not agreeing or disagreeing with what has taken place today and over the past month in preparation for today.  I am just trying to wrap my head around it. Everyone grieves so differently, how have the big wigs who have organized and orchestrated all of what has happened as far as memorials even been able to consider these differences?  I am not an expert on grief, just very experienced. And I am thinking without a doubt that all of this seriously has had to hurt some more than it has helped them. It was quite a touching tribute to hear all of those names said at ground zero today.  I liked that they were each their own individual, each a life worth remembering instead of all lumped together.  I didn't like the news commentator saying...ok, we are taking you back now to relive those horrifying moments...seriously, do you hear yourself?  And what about the children of 9/11? What heartbreak this has to have been for them.  Especially the ones who were so little. I can't help but think that some, not all, but some will mourn September 11, 2011, more than they did in 2001, simply because they were not old enough. How do I know that? I don't for sure, just suspect. I know that Tye being as young as he was became a blessing in some regards.  Can you imagine me taking each traumatic and horrifying step through Brian's death and telling Tye all about it, plastering it all over the t.v. Repeatedly. For. the. last. month?  I just can't believe that is the right thing for all 3,000 of those children who lost a parent. Oh, and my favorite...already have heard it from the mouths of so many reporters to those directly involved...do you miss him? have the last 10 years been hard growing up without a dad?  Or even worse...how did you feel when you realized he was dead? What did you think when you realized the towers collapsed?

I think the thing that is of most concern to me are those who have successfully be able to heal in a healthy way and move forward. Who would otherwise mark the 10th anniversary of their loved one's death quietly, privately, personally. Or those who have struggled to take any steps forward, and have finally been putting one foot in front of the other. Does this overwhelming response/reaction whatever it is called for the 10th anniversary help the cause for them or hinder it.  No doubt, there are many who have been able to move forward, and this is a moment they expected, they embrace, and remember.  For others, it may turn out to be a very good turning point in their grief, a chance to share and move beyond.

I have thought a lot about myself and kids this weekend. How would I feel if there was a designated time in our lives that I HAD to relive the horrors of losing Brian or my mom. Those thoughts come already without warning.

What a very difficult day for thousands of people directly, and for our nation as a whole.  One of my students asked...how many people were affected by 9/11? My response...we don't know for sure, but it is very widespread and multi-leveled.  And so much grief to deal with. My prayers are with all of those who lost someone they love. May they be blessed with the chance to grieve and heal.