Five months

I have been having internet issues since I moved. I'm still having some but it looks like I will be able to blog again! We are getting settled in here nicely. Chloe is napping my arms right now so if I cut this short, it's because she woke up!

I have been feeling pretty good over the weekend. Today marks five months since Matt's death. Five months ago today at this very moment I was sitting downstairs where I worked, and I had just been told of the accident. I was sitting in a chair with tears running down my face trying to process everything. I didn't talk much. I was completely stunned. I remember saying at one point, "I don't even know what to do. What am I supposed to do?"

It was as though everything was taken away from me and I forgot how to live all in a split second. I don't even know how I stayed on my feet. I guess I have Karla to thank for that. :)

That day is all quite clear to me still. I hope it stays clear to me for a long time. It was such an awful awful day... but it was the last day I ever saw Matt. The day he died. It's an important day despite how tragic it is.

I had such a depressing dream the other night. I had not dreamed about Matt in such a long time and then I get this? He had cancer. He was given 2-3 months to live. I was trying to think that maybe a miracle would happen; maybe he would survive longer even though it didn't look so good. We were talking and I told him I never wanted to lose him. He got really upset and said, "You'll just find someone else." Through tears, I hugged him and said, "I will never find anyone else." I wanted to say "Our vows were all the days of my life" but I don't know if I actually did. I remember thinking that. My life's not over yet.

I had another dream with him in it last night... but it was really insignificant. I don't remember much about it... or anything for that matter. Just that he was there.

I stopped by the cemetery on Sunday. It was an improvised trip, like they usually are. It's difficult for me not to stop when I drive through Rockford to get to my mom's house; right past the cemetery. Both kiddos were asleep in the car so I stopped.

Well, Chloe's short naps never cease to amaze me...

When I think about the holidays

I feel sick. I get a knot in my stomach. How am I supposed to act? What am I supposed to say? I'm totally stressing over it even though I know in my heart that God will carry me through it. I'm not supposed to fret about the future but I can't help it at this point. I'm just trying to think of things I can do that will help me. What is supposed to be a joyful time of family gatherings and making good memories is going to be another day where I "zombie" my way to getting it over with. I'm a zombie. I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to act... I'm not myself anymore without Matt. Sometimes I just feel like an empty shell and I fear that is what it will be like through the holidays from now on. Or at least for a while. I'm trying to stay focused on today and not worry about the future but that is a very advanced skill I have not yet mastered.

However, I think I am improving on letting God take over... turning to Him for comfort and consolation. Yesterday was a very good day for me. One of the best. I like those days.

I can't help but wonder... not only what Matt is experiencing now... but especially what he experienced in that hour between life and death. And I also wonder if it would have made a difference had I made it to the hospital before he died. Might my presence have somehow pulled him back? What if I was there with him, holding his hand? Could that have helped him stay? It is clear to me that he certainly fought as hard as he could. He would have never wanted this... but, from what I have read and heard from those who have seen the other side, Heaven has a powerful effect that makes it tough to leave. That's why I wonder if my presence next to his body would have helped and maybe that's selfish of me to think that way but it's just something I think about.

I know things are the way they were meant to be. I have faith in God's plan.

God is holding my hand every step of the way.

It's been three months today. As I look at the clock, almost exactly. In fact, about 10-15 minutes ago Matt's life changed forever. It was his last hour. I think he must have been in between (Heaven and earth, that is) since he was unconscious. I wonder what he saw. I wonder if he knows what happened to him. I wonder if he was afraid. Scratch that last part. I know he wasn't afraid.

I feel I have been coping well. But I've had very little, if anything, to do with that. God is the one holding me up. And I am so thankful. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have my faith. I mean... I don't know what I would do if I hadn't found my faith. After all, this showed me God. I can't say I was a fantastic religious person before all this.

I never mentioned something about that day. It's a small thing. Kind of an odd thing. I noticed a small, light, red/brown dot (about the size of a pencil eraser, maybe slightly bigger than that) on my ribcage below my right boob (don't know how else to describe it, sorry). It's like a birth mark, really. I never had that before July 20. I noticed it that night. And it hasn't gone away. I tried to Google "marks appearing after death of a loved one" or something similar to see if that has happened to anyone else, lol. I just find it... weird/special/interesting. It's my special mark. Who needs a tattoo when you have a mystery mark?

Yesterday morning, Noah woke up and said, "Daddy" again. It was after hearing sounds in the kitchen from MIL and SIL. He must have thought that Matt might be in the kitchen. He misses him. I think these things are going to start getting more frequent and more intense as Noah gets older.

I wanted to attend a widow/widower support group today, but after researching what the "Friendship Center of Emmet County" was, I thought... this is not a right fit for me. It's a senior center. 'Nuf said. I know of a place in Grand Rapids that will probably be good for both me and the kids so I can wait until we move. I feel like I'm doing fine without support groups and a counselor. Talking to my counselor in Greenville very soon after the accident was GREAT though. I really needed that so I'm glad I didn't wait.

I keep looking at the clock and imagining Matt exactly three months ago. Why did I choose now to write? This is his final hour. Now he is in the emergency room. In a way, though, rehashing all the details of that day helps me. It just helps me to accept this as my reality. One more month gone... Matt is not coming back. But he is always with me.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

-E. E. Cummings

The hurt.

It's easy to recreate that feeling I experienced on July 20 when I received the news. That hollow, painful feeling
in my chest. It's just about enough to bring me to my knees. It's like an inner collapse. I think about it often.
I still think about all the things we left undone. And then... just like that, it was over.No goodbyes. No warning.
He was just gone.

I wonder what Matt would have done if it was me instead. This sucks so bad, I'm so glad it wasn't. I would never
want this for him. But I wonder.

We almost went to Italy in February 2009. It was Matt's #1 place he wanted to visit. Rome, to be exact. I looked at tours, corresponded with a travel agent... and then we decided we should spend our money on other things we NEEDED instead. We would go again another time for sure. We had the rest of our lives.

I wrote "I miss you" on the foggy bathroom mirror this morning when I got out of the shower. Not being able to talk to him anymore sucks. It's not like he went away and will be coming back and we can still text or write or call. I still have this need to talk to him somehow. So I will try anything. I talk out loud, I pray, I write, I still post on his Facebook, and now... I write on the mirror. I'm desperate.

I know he was in one of my dreams last night but I can't remember anything about it. But the fact that he was there is kind of a relief because I really haven't dreamed about him in a long time, it seems. I wish he would visit me again.

I'm going to call the tattoo shop tomorrow to see if they have a policy against tattooing someone who is breastfeeding. :D Because, if not... I'm going to get my first one on Saturday. :O If so, I will have to wait until next spring. :/ But that's okay. Either way, I'm excited to get it. I want to have Matt's memory permanently inked in my skin. He'll always be a part of me.

"Daddy sleeping."

The three of us (me, Noah and Chloe) sleep in the same bedroom. Noah sleeps in a twin bed and Chloe and I sleep in a queen bed. I heard Noah get out of bed this morning and he kept saying, "Daddy sleeping." I got up and went over to him and I said, "Did you say daddy's sleeping?" He kept saying it and he was starting to get upset and he kept looking at the bed. Matt's blanket that he had ever since he was a baby was on the bed. He always took naps with it at home so Noah knows it is "Daddy's blanket". I couldn't figure out if he was wanting Matt to be in the bed with his blanket or if he had a dream about him or what. It was as though he was upset that he wasn't there. I was kneeling by him and I said very gently and softly, "Daddy died. He's in Heaven with Jesus but he will always be watching over you." I figured that maybe he dreamed about Matt... maybe he thought he was in the bed with him or something.

I hate it when I have to say that to him. I don't usually use "died" when I'm talking to Noah. But I know I need to eventually. So I just said it. I don't know if there is a "right" way to talk about it to him. I really have no clue what I'm doing... I'm just kind of improvising as we go along.

I heard a song today. One of the songs I downloaded from Matt's collection. It's called "Self-Conclusion" by Spill Canvas. The chorus goes...

Yeah, we all flirt with the tiniest notion
Of self conclusion in one simplified motion
You see the trick is that you're never supposed to act on it
No matter how unbearable this misery gets

I have never even considered in the slightest taking my own life. I could not do that to my family. And Matt would DEFINITELY not want that. Plus, I think it's a Catholic belief that suicide doesn't get you into Heaven... whether or not that's true is debatable but I wouldn't take the chance, being that I'm Catholic! However, I have thought about the idea in general (and how terrible it would be). Don't we all? When I was getting some things down from the attic in our home in North Carolina, I was at the top of the ladder and I looked down at the concrete floor in the garage. I thought, "All I might have to do is take a dive." That probably wouldn't kill me though. Isn't that horrible? And sometimes, when I'm handling knives, I think about how one swift motion could end it all. Surprisingly, I didn't have any morbid thoughts while I was shooting a gun at the farm last weekend! Not until after the fact, lol.

That song just made me think about it. It's about two people who are about to commit suicide: The guy gets there first to jump, then a girl comes up to the same spot for the same purpose, and he ends up asking her out.

"All right, you win, but I only give you one night
To prove yourself to be better than my attempt at flight
I swear to god if you hurt me I will leap
I will toss myself from these very cliffs
And you'll never see it coming"
"Settle, precious, I know what you're going through
Just ten minutes before you got here I was gonna jump too"

It's a good song. "

"No matter how unbearable this misery gets."

I know I've said that I wish I could have just been in that car with Matt. But that wasn't my path. If I was in the car, he probably wouldn't have hit the tractor to begin with anyway. So in that sense, yes, I wish I would have been there. But all this "I wish" and "if only" stuff... I would say I'm over it for the most part. I accept the things I cannot change.

This is right behind my license.

They will not go through your cell phone. If something happens to you, this will make it easier for officials to contact your next-of-kin. I just wrote out all of my information on three sticky notes, folded it up and put it right behind my license because they will retrieve your license to identify you. That's it. A simple thing... just make sure you keep it up to date!

This gives me the chills.

It brings me back to that day. Makes me think about Matt. What he looked like on the table, being worked on. Doctors and nurses trying to save his life.

I wonder what they were thinking. I wonder what they thought when they knew he wouldn't make it. Wonder what they said about their day when they went home to their families.

That's it. The day Matt died on paper. This is what was happening to him while I was texting him; going about my normal day.

"He's... gone."

When I was at the doctor's office for Noah's two-year checkup on Tuesday, the nurse was going over some general information. Even though I already filled out forms containing this information so I thought she was just confirming my answers and knew about everything.

"At home.... mom and dad?"

"No. He's... " And then I was trying to fill in my own blank. Dead... too abrasive of a term. Deceased... who says that? So... I just said "... gone. He died in July." I should really just say he's dead and get it over with.

I still can't believe it's already October. It's just unsettling to think that time still moves forward without Matt. Time... has seemed to stop for me. But the days keep coming.

Turns out, I was a terrible college student. I'm embarrassed to even disclose my graduating GPA but let's just say I will definitely be starting over this winter. And I think I will go back to GVSU. I've thought more about it. I think I would just feel most comfortable there. They have a great nursing program. I don't care how long it takes... I'm sure I will have plenty of courses to (re)take to fill the time between now and the college of nursing anyway. It's going to be a bitch. But it will be worth it. All I have to do is think of Matt. Think of Noah and Chloe. Think of the rewards of nursing. The rewards of helping people heal. Or the rewards of comforting families. It might not always be happy but it will always be rewarding.

I've learned that some of the best things in life come from the worst things in life. Matt's death is the lowest of low points. But good things have come from it and good things will continue to come from it. And there will always be sad times, too. Sadness that comes from loss that comes from loving. But we have to endure these things; to lift each other up. And just remember how precious of a gift life is. We will be together again one day.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” John 13: 34, 35

To whoever posted this comment:

Anony on Sep 28, 2011 at 09:28 AM

He was texting. His cell phone was found by troopers in his lap and phone records indicate this as well. His wife's blog says so.

I would appreciate it if you could respectfully retract and/or amend it so that it's accurate and true. Here is the post to which I believe you're referring: http://day-three.blogspot.com/2011/09/real-deal.html

Nowhere did I say he was texting. Actually, I know he wasn't texting because there are no texts in his inbox or his drafts anywhere near that point in time. There are no phone records indicating such a thing (or any calls, for that matter).

I don't mind if things from my blog are shared elsewhere... when those things are true. If this only had to do with me, I would let it go but it's not only an inaccurate remark about what I said... it's an inaccurate remark about what I said of my husband and that's what I don't like.

Matt was distracted. This is the most blatantly obvious fact of the entire situation. It was a clear and sunny day down a straight stretch of road and he didn't even look up in time enough to touch his brakes (according to witness statements). All you have to do is look out the window for one second, at 70 mph, that covers 102 feet. Two seconds... three seconds... you get the idea. A lot of ground is being covered in a short amount of time. There were 25 ft. of yaw marks before impact. That means he looked up and saw the tractor 0.2 seconds before the collision.

Every driver gets distracted and I believe many drivers get distracted on the highway because they assume everyone is going fast, and it's wide open with no traffic lights. Whether that distraction is the radio, a billboard, an animal, another car, anything. With Matt, I just happen to think it was his phone because it was between his legs, the screen is shattered, the top half of the cover came off and it's covered in blood. Whether he was checking the forecast or listening to music, I don't know. But I do know that it wasn't a text or a phone call. Whatever it was, it just happened at the exact wrong time.

It's just my theory. When your spouse gets killed in a car accident that could easily have been avoided... and you have no idea why it wasn't avoided, you want the answer more than anything in the world. Even if that means speculating and forming a theory that may or may not be true.

It will never get better.*

I will just learn to live with a hole in my heart.

(The graphic part isn't until the last paragraph.)

I drove past a billboard on the way back up to Petoskey on Sunday that read, "Thousands of men die from stubbornness each year." I don't know what it was for but I thought it was funny I happened to see it.

This is one of the most awkward things to think about but I do think about it: Dating, marriage, etc. When Matt died I thought, that's it. I'm living the rest of my life as a singleton. Maybe I'll date again one day but never marry again. I have one husband and he'll always be my husband -I am disregarding those vows "'til death do you part" - it's not that simple. If o nly it was that simple.

It's not a breakup. We loved each other and then he was taken. Without warning. It's not something I could ever "get over". This is my husband... the father of my children. I still can't imagine ever replacing him. Not literally replacing him, of course... but even the thought of someone else coming into the picture feels like an attempt at doing just that and I don't like it at all.

But this is where I'm at right now. Dating? I guess. Whatever. Maybe in 20 years (just kidding... but can't you tell I'm not too thrilled with the idea?). Marriage? I said I don't think I could ever get married again soon after I lost Matt but I guess now I'm slightly more open to the idea. I might do that for someone I cared enough about. But it's not really something I'm interested in, per say.

What about Noah and Chloe? I realize that should anyone ever come into the picture and stay in the picture, he would be the only "dad" they really know. I don't like that but it's the truth. Now I can really understand Emily from The Bachelor and how protective of her daughter she was (don't act like you don't watch The Bachelor). There is so much going on here that I am completely content staying single forever. It's just way too complicated otherwise. Someone would have to be pretty special for me to want to get into the complications that would rise out of that whole mess. And I can't see how I would ever get past comparing everyone to Matt, which is yet another issue entirely.

It seems really soon to be thinking about that stuff but several people have brought it up to me already. So it's kind of hard not to at least give it a little thought. But, truth be told, I did think of it very soon... because one of the first things that came into my head when I was told Matt died was how Noah and Chloe no longer have Daddy. And from there just came a million thoughts about this and that. Mainly, who is going to be there for them instead?

Say I do get married again one day. (1) Fully aware that means I could go through this again. It's worth it. (2) My rings stay. (3) My last name stays.

Speaking of the rings, I don't see how I could ever remove them. They are a special symbol of a very special love. It wasn't my choice to lose him. It wasn't his choice for me to lose him. I will wear these until I die. Plus, they're gorgeous.

Now, when I change my mind, it will be known.

Our headstone is so close to being finished. I made one last change to the second draft I was sent, and now I'm just waiting for the third draft so I can approve it! I was almost having second thoughts about the shape I chose because I was worried about Matt liking it, lol. Then I realized that he's not here and the least he could do was let me make it how I want it. So that's that. I'm doing it how I want to do it.

A random thing I miss about Matt: Quoting inappropriate lines from movies like The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Wedding Crashers, I Love You Man, etc. :( This is so sucky.

I called Trooper C. today just to say hi. I imagine it must be nice for him to hear from me; to know that I'm doing okay. He said he was really glad I called. I almost feel weird calling but, at the same time, I feel so compelled to maintain contact. He was there. I mean... he touched Matt's near-lifeless body in the car that was covered in his blood. I hate to be graphic but this is the reality of the situation. As an EMT, he did what he could until the paramedics arrived. And then, after all that, he came to tell me to my face that my husband was dead. He was one of the last people who ever saw Matt alive (unconscious, but still alive). I told him this - that I feel like he is one of the last connections to Matt's life I have. And by that I mean... his final moments. Those final moments.... I wasn't there but he was.

Broken.

That's how I've been feeling the last two days. Friday was okay and then Thursday sucked, of course. I drove to Rockford on Thursday and my wonderful friend, Kara, watched the kids while I "celebrated" me and Matt's fourth anniversary. I went to the jewelry store to pick up my pendants with Matt's thumb prints. I have one for myself and two for the kids. I got a chain to wear mine as a necklace. I love it. Mine is his thumb print in a heart; the kids' are just his thumb print.

I went to Matt's grave alone after that... the first time I ever went by myself. I made sure to tell him, first and foremost, to take a good look at what an awkward situation he's put me in: talking to my dead husband at his grave... probably looking like a crazy person to whoever might have seen me. Although I'm sure no one did because it was the crappiest weather ever. No one in their right mind would be out in that mess. But regardless, it was awkward. About as awkward as looking at him in a coma 11 years ago and not knowing what to say. I'm pretty sure I touched his hand and uttered a, "Hi, Matt..." Yeah, I think talking to his soul is more awkward than that. This man has put me through too much.

So after pointing this out to him, I continued on. I read his anniversary card, at which point I definitely lost what little composure I managed to fake, fumbling with the umbrella, his card, the rosary and the Bible while kneeling on a baby changing pad in the wet grass. After reading the card, I prayed the rosary for his soul and read the Bible. That was pretty much it. By the time I was done, my legs from my knees to my toes were completely numb. I told him the least he could do was help me walk back to the car. See? Crazy person. Don't even get me started on the times where I think I see him for just a fraction of a second upon a random glance.

But between the jewelry shop and the cemetery, I failed to mention my flower shop excursion. When I walked in, a man asked me if I needed help with anything. I told him I was just looking for a little something to put on my husband's grave. My husband's grave... how old do I sound? Yes, Aaliyah, age really ain't nothing but a number. (God rest her soul.) If only age could really keep us from enduring such things. "You're not supposed to bury your husband at 26."

Says who?

I have been all over the place in the last 2+ months... sometimes I forget where I am. And bless these poor children of ours. They've had no choice but to become seasoned travelers. We drove to the Raleigh airport on July 23 and flew to Detroit. From Detroit, we drove to Rockford where the kids and I stayed one night, then we transferred to Grand Rapids to be closer to my Hales family. We were in Grand Rapids doing funeral stuff for about a week and then we drove up to the cottage at Crystal Lake. We stayed there through Matt's birthday (July 31) and then drove up to Petoskey where I think we stayed another week. Then we drove to Grand Rapids (I think) and flew back to Raleigh. This was somewhere in August. Then from Raleigh we drove back to our house in Greenville. I finally stayed in one place for about a month after that to keep a semi-normal life working part-time but also packing up everything. Then we made the journey back to Grand Rapids via road trip for the next 18 hours, stopping to stay overnight in Mt. Airy on the way up. I stayed in Rockford with the kids for a week, drove up to Crystal Lake for a night, and then back to Petoskey... our new home for the next three months if I'm to start school this winter. Then we will move back to Rockford. It is just madness. I'm used to it.

I remember the day Matt died - my friend April drove me home. I opened the garage door and Matt's car wasn't there. Every day I would come home from work and hope to see Matt's car in the garage when I hit that button. The door would start to raise and I would watch to see if I saw his car appear while I pulled in. I was happy when he was home before me. Truly. I just loved him. I loved being around him; we had so much fun together. He was my best friend. Sometimes, although this rarely happened, he would get home later than normal and I would think the worst while waiting. Not even on just those occasions; I would think the worst on normal days, too. I guess because he spent 75% of his day driving. And maybe because it had happened before. And because he had seizures. Not very often and never while driving but it was still a contributing factor to my mild case of paranoia. And then... July 20. There it is. I don't know if I'll ever be able to wrap my mind around it.

All the little things we wish we said or did... when you know you will no longer get to see someone on this earth ever again, all those little things weigh heavily on your mind. It's like you wish you could go back in time and make up for all the time you now know you'll miss. But really... it doesn't matter. It only affects you. So I didn't tell Matt I loved him that morning. That doesn't mean I didn't love him. He knows I loved him with all my heart. But it was my last chance to tell him that. Neither of us knew it would be my last chance. He didn't tell me he loved me either, obviously. But I can tell you that's not bothering him a bit. And that part doesn't even bother me. I know he loved me. He didn't have to say it constantly. I don't care that he didn't tell me that morning... I only care that I didn't tell him. Funny, isn't it?

Just make good memories. Don't forget about the little things. The little things are important, too, but they are not things over which to obsess. The important thing is making good memories. Those memories will bring comfort to your loved ones when you are gone and they are mourning.

I made the mistake of attempting to view Art Prize downtown yesterday. It was HORRIBLE. It started out being horrible because of the crowds and two small children (I wasn't alone though). Then the horribleness was increased ten-fold when I happened to walk by a bride and groom getting their pictures taken outside of the hotel. The same place Matt and I had some of our pictures taken. Her dress was even similar to mine. I tried not to look, that's just what I saw at first glance before I realized what a sucky situation I had just created for myself. I was trapped in hell. All I could do was look straight forward and try to walk as fast as I could pushing a stroller down a crowded sidewalk. I actually made it to the car and as far as 131 before I finally lost it. Thank goodness for that much. I'm doomed.

I wonder how long it will be before Noah asks, "Mommy, why are you crying?"

I stopped by the cemetery again today with Chloe. Noah was with the g'rents at church. I stayed behind because Chloe has a pretty bad cold. Snot fountain. Boogery eyes. But it was really nice out today so I wanted to stop by one last time before coming back here. I took back Matt's anniversary card (sorry, Matt). It was either that, or it be thrown out so I took it. I also took a stroll through our section. Getting to know our neighbors, if you will. Plus, I was just paying attention to the headstone designs since I am close to having ours done. Well, I noticed a young man who died at 24 (born in '82, died in '06). He was in the air force, I think. There was a picture of a helicopter on his headstone so I hope that's a safe assumption. He and his wife got married in April of '06 and he died that same year in October. Sigh. They got married the same month and year Matt proposed to me. I wonder if they have any kids. There was a bible verse on the base; Philippians 1:21:

For to me life is Christ, and death is gain.

Dream

I did get my dream last night but it wasn't really him; he was just a character. I'm writing this early so it's relatively fresh in my mind.

I was going back to change the outcome of Matt's accident. It was basically like The Butterfly Effect, lol. It took me several tries. I was there at the scene of the accident and I saw Matt. I thought it didn't work this time but when the paramedics arrived on scene, Matt was conscious (barely). I don't know what I even did to change it. Somehow, his injuries were less severe on his head and it was mostly his chest.

Maybe I created this in my mind because one of the officers at SHP told me if Matt had been sitting up higher, he probably would have survived. And also because the medical examiner told me that tension pneumothorax was not the immediate cause of death (meaning, maybe if that's all it was, he could have been saved). If he had been sitting up higher, it also probably would have been a less severe case because that would have meant that there was more "car" in front of him to block the farm equipment (versus it coming through the windshield with nothing to block it).

Anyway, they put him on a stretcher and then I just remember being next to him while they worked to save him. I touched his arm and said something like, "I'm here. You're going to be okay." I think they were going to transport him via helicopter even though the accident took place literally right down the road from the hospital (which was lucky, all other possibilities considered).

Then I wondered if I made a mistake because I messed with the natural occurrence of events. Yes, I saved him, but what if it would end up worse than before somehow? What if he ended up in a vegetative state on life support or something? What if, because I saved him, now I would lose someone else instead (like one of our kids)? Because if you've seen The Butterfly Effect, every time he "fixed" one thing, something else would go wrong.

That's all I remember of my dream.

I know they say, "'Til death do you part", but I don't believe it.

Matt will always be my husband. And he'll always be with me even though I can't see him. There's nothing wrong with getting remarried but Matt is a tough act to follow. How could I ever replace my husband? I don't like that line... "'til death do you part" but I suppose it could be interpreted to mean in the physical sense. That's how I interpret it.

I went back to work yesterday. It was fine. I was really nervous to step back into the building where my entire life shattered to pieces in about one second. But it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I worked three hours.

I dreamed about Matt the last two nights. In the first one, the world was ending. I remember looking down at the ground and it was covered in fire. And then I was dead. But there was no fear or pain; and Matt was right there with me. He comforted me.

In the second one, I was at the funeral but Matt was with me. I was the only one who could see him.

My father in law and I are going to meet with the district attorney and first trooper on scene this morning. I'm not exactly sure what I expect to get out of this except for yet another affirmation of shitty North Carolina law. And I will probably ask what can I do to take steps (no matter how small) toward preventing this from happening again. And I will probably press the first trooper on scene for details, yet again.

The details are driving me crazy. I want to know everything despite the reality that "everything" isn't pretty. I can't even get images of what Matt looked like and what the car looked like out of my head. And I haven't seen either one. My mind is just making these images up from the descriptions I've been told. But even before asking for details, I would still imagine. So at least hearing what Matt looked like and what the car looked like... gives me a more accurate imagination. How that helps anything I don't know. I almost feel like something is wrong with me for wanting to know this stuff. But I want to know what happened to my husband.

Untitled

I went down to the state highway patrol office with my father in law today to obtain the accident report. We ended up talking to a sergeant for over an hour about everything. I received more details. I want to know everything. I think that the people I ask for information are afraid I will regret hearing what they have to say... but I haven't yet. I appreciate being able to understand every single thing that occurred and I think it helps me with closure. I didn't see his body, I'm not going to look at the car (at the advice of the sergeant), so hearing descriptions is what helps me.

The details aren't pretty and I could tell that the sergeant was having a difficult time answering my questions. I could tell that even he found the photos of the car to be disturbing. And at one point, when I asked what the first trooper on scene saw, he said, "M'am, are you sure you want to hear this?"

Yes. I was very sure. I almost felt bad for making him re-live the things he's seen/heard... but I had to know. I can't describe how it makes me feel to hear those things or explain why I want to know those things. I just do.

That Day

When every single nightmarish thought I ever had in my lifetime still paled in comparison to that day.

I woke up, ate breakfast... I can't remember if Noah woke up first that day or not. I think he might have. I made him some breakfast, hung out on the couch and watched a little TV. Matt woke up shortly thereafter. I went to go get ready for work. Chloe was still sleeping. Once I got ready and picked out some clothes for Noah to wear, I got Chloe up, dressed her and went out to the living room to nurse her before leaving, as usual. Matt had changed the channel to TBS... pretty typical. Home Improvement was on. Matt got Noah dressed in the clothes I brought out to him. Once Chloe was finished eating, I packed up the car and Matt helped me get the kids to the door. Mornings were always hectic and rushed. I tried to be out the door by 8a.m. (seldom happened but I think I was close this time) with both kids every day so I had time to drop them off at daycare and have a chance of making it to work on time. Sometimes Matt and I kissed, sometimes we hollered "love you", sometimes both and sometimes nothing. On this particular day, it was nothing. Nothing but a "bye!"

Rewind about 15 minutes. Matt had just dressed Noah and he thought out loud, "Well, Daddy will just go to a few offices today," after I had suggest the night before that he stay home since he wasn't feeling well. So he implied that morning that he would still work but take it easy; go at a leisurely pace.

I dropped the kids off and continued on my way to work. I don't think I had called Matt for anything that morning... meaning the last time we talked was before I left the house. I'm sure I would have remembered if we talked on the phone after that. But not that day. Not until I was menu planning for the following week, at which point I texted him. The flyer for the store we always did our weekend family grocery trip at, Harris Teeter, came out on Wednesdays. I would usually try to plan meals around what was on sale. I texted him at 11:25a.m... later I would discover that was exactly 10 minutes before he died. I was meal planning while Matt was dying. And I had no idea.

"I'm menu planning for next week. Quiche? Fajitas? Pulled pork sandwiches? Let me know what you think of those."

The last texts I ever sent him.

I didn't think much of the fact that we hadn't talked or texted all morning. Some days were busier for him than others. Sometimes he had lunches planned that would start around 11:00. Sometimes he would barely talk or text me all day; other times we would text quite frequently. It just depended on how far he had to drive that day or how long he had to wait in a doctor's office.

I can't even begin to describe how haunting it is to know that I was just going about my normal life while my husband was trapped in a car with severe injuries, unconscious, being transported to the emergency room, dying. And I was thinking about what I was going to have for lunch that day. While I left to go nurse Chloe on my lunch break, Matt was dead. And I didn't know. From 10:30a.m. to 3:30p.m., state troopers were trying to track me down to either a.) tell me my husband was in a car accident and nearly dead at the hospital or b.) tell me my husband had been involved in a fatal car accident. They didn't have a large window of opportunity for option a. So option b. it was.

While my friend and co-worker, April, brought her baby girl into the office for a visit that afternoon and I was smiling and playing with her, my husband was dead.

I was pumping... it was my afternoon pumping session which I did every day around 3:00. I believe it was just shy of 3:30 when my boss came around the corner of my cubicle and just said, "I need to talk to you." I said, "Okay." And he had a moment of hesitation before turning to my co-worker in closest proximity to me and he said, "And, Karla, you come, too." She said, "Okay."

I got myself all disconnected from my breast pump, which was slightly awkward in itself, set everything aside and we followed him downstairs to a conference room. I can tell you exactly what was going through my head.

At first, I thought we were in trouble. Then we got down the stairs and turned to go into the conference room. I saw two state troopers standing there and my office manager was also in the room. They turned their attention to me, not Karla. I greeted them with a "hi", thinking... and I'm serious... maybe I was a witness to something and they wanted to question me. A tiny percent of me thought that maybe I was in trouble with the law and didn't know it.

And then Trooper Coley said, "Ms. Hales?"

"Yes"

"I'm sorry to inform you that your husband was involved in a fatal car accident."

I don't know what provoked my response. I immediately said, "No he wasn't," almost before he could even finish what he was saying. And at that very moment of sheer denial... the reality hit me at almost the same exact time. He replied, "Yes, he was." It hit me like a million tons of bricks and I turned to Karla and just hugged her... she hugged me. We cried... I bawled. It was like an out-of-body experience. I can't even begin to describe what I was physically or emotionally feeling; what was going through my head. I mostly thought about Noah and Chloe. About Matt's family. About how I was stuck in North Carolina and everybody we really knew was in Michigan, where we're originally from. I thought what the hell was I going to do?

I hugged Karla and I never wanted to let go... because when I let go it would be real. I wanted to go back upstairs to my ignorant little world in my average little life and return to believing it was just another day. I would go home after work, after getting the kids, I would open the garage door and see Matt's car parked there; probably while cursing him for parking too close to my side.

But it was final.

So what now? I was able to form some questions. I think in the midst of my life crumbling to pieces right before me, the troopers were explaining what happened but I barely heard anything. All I heard was 264.

Where on 264? Where is he? What happened? And I don't even know what else. I could barely process anything anyway. Karla asked them if I could go see him. They told me they did not recommend I see him due to the extent of his injuries. I kept thinking of our kids and then I realized that I was going to have to be the one to call his parents... or at least one of them. I called my mom first. Actually, I couldn't even do that. Karla called her and talked to her, then I talked to her. Then, I decided I would call his dad. I literally sat there for at least 15 minutes discussing with the troopers and my co-workers how I was ever going to do this. I could barely even think straight to dial numbers. But I called my father in-law and told him. I hope nobody reading this ever has to call a father to tell him his son is dead.

I meant to add this earlier but I forgot so the following is a later edit I added:

I forgot to mention what one of my biggest concerns really was: Matt. One of my questions, and the one I most wanted answered was, "Was he unconscious?" Basically, I wanted to know whether or not he felt any pain and/or suffered. I wanted to be sure that he felt nothing. And I think the trooper could sense that that's what I really wanted to know. He said he was unconscious the whole time and he said, "I don't think he suffered at all."

Then what? I don't know... I called my dad and then I was done. I was trying to figure out what on Earth was I going to do down in North Carolina with my husband's body and our two kids. The whole reason we were down there in the first place was for Matt's job. I was clueless.

Another later-added detail:

Before the troopers left the office, one of them handed me Matt's wallet. It had a gritty texture; tiny pieces of shattered glass were stuck to it. I didn't open it until later at home. It smelled like coffee. I got that wallet for him for his 26th birthday.

Matt's family flew down the very next day. My parents drove down. Everyone was with me by Thursday night.

April drove me to the daycare to get the kids and then home where she stayed with me overnight Wednesday to help out and be my shoulder to cry on.

I slept from 2:00-4:00a.m.

It was the worst day of my entire life... and I think every day thereafter has been just slightly short of worse than the day before.

That was the day Matt was killed. And a part of me, was, too.

"I have to tell Matt about this dream."

I just woke up from the second dream I've had where Matt survived. He was left worse off, of course... but he survived. And he was still able to walk and talk - just not as strong as before. His left hand had loss of feeling. We were walking, holding hands and we had to stop to get our fingers intertwined just right.

Actually, that is something we occasionally had to do if I was holding his right hand because he had loss of feeling in his fingers from his first accident. And I would sometimes help him put gloves on because he couldn't feel which holes they were going into... we would chuckle sometimes at his first attempt. Like a little kid trying to put on gloves. Matt was always so lighthearted about everything. Some days, I would help him to button the very top button of his shirt in the morning - it's that difficult one and gave him trouble sometimes.

So in my dream, he survived and it wasn't as long of a recovery. There was no drug-induced coma. But there were tiny scars across his chest and I remember he said that his shoulder blade had been shattered. But he made it.

He did have lots of tiny scars on his chest from his first accident... where wires & tubes had been held in place in the hospital. And he had scars from a feeding tube and tracheotomy. Noah would point to them and say "boo boo".

My first thought upon waking from this dream... for just a split second was, "I have to tell Matt about this dream." But then I remembered he was gone. How could I forget that for even a fraction of a second? Because I yearn so badly that it didn't have to be this way, I guess. But that miniscule length of time that I thought I should tell him about my dream sure was a nice one. A split-second of my old life. I'd always tell him about my dreams.

I frequently wonder what would it have taken for him to survive this. If he had veered left instead of right? If he had saw the tractor in time enough to apply his brakes some in order to lessen the impact? I doubt he had would have been any better off if he hadn't tried to avoid it and just went straight into the equipment. The first scenario I mentioned... going left instead of right... would have probably saved him - or at least given him a better chance. But he spared the other two cars that were in the left lane. If only they hadn't have been there. He could have gotten over in plenty of time knowing there was no one there. There's the "what if" demon again.

Chloe is getting baptized this morning. It is something Matt was working on the week he died. He contacted our favorite priest, Father Tom, that Monday to see if we could arrange her baptism for the week we were to visit at the end of August. I think Matt will definitely be there today. To watch his daughter get baptized; something he was really looking forward to. I wish he was there to hold that candle for her... but I'm sure he will be there doing so much more than that now - embracing us along with the Holy Spirit, watching over us, watching over Chloe. He will be there.

I miss you, Matt.

Photos of his necklace & wedding band

I was just looking through memory cards for more pictures of Matt and forgot I had taken pictures right after I opened the envelope.

More Pieces of the Puzzle

I called the first trooper on scene about an hour ago with some questions.

I asked if there were cars in the left lane that prevented him from moving over. Yes. There were two cars in the left lane as witnesses.

I asked if the tractor had any flashing lights or other indication that it was a slow-moving vehicle. Yes, the tractor had a reflective triangle. But it was covered up by the sprayer it was hauling so, therefore, not visible.

I asked if the tractor made an attempt to drive on the shoulder or if it was driving down the right lane of the highway as if it belonged there. The tractor was driving in the right lane as if it belonged there. Going 25mph in a 70mph speed zone.

I asked him if that tractor was really driving down the highway illegally because I've heard/read conflicting things. He told me that any slow-moving vehicle such as a bicycle or moped (or tractor) should not be driving on a limited access highway.

Matt's phone and personal computer, among other things, are still in the car.

There were 25ft of yaw marks - where marks are left from the tires after making a sudden turn (these are not brake marks). No brakes were applied. Matt tried to avoid colliding with the tractor at the last minute. He went to the right because of the cars in the left lane. But going 70mph and coming up on something you don't realize and don't expect to be going 25mph leaves very little time to react effectively.

I still have a couple more questions I forgot to ask but right now, I have some of the answers I've been wondering about over the last week.

I look for him in reflections.

I think it was the book The Lovely Bones where he saw his dead daughter in a reflection. I never even finished that book. But I remember that part. I always look for Matt's face in reflections. Maybe something about reflections make me think they are set apart from reality and that maybe he will be looking back at me.

I wish I would dream about him more often. I only remember clearly dreaming about him once and it was Monday night; the night before visitation. I kissed him in my dream. And there was some dialogue about reassuring me that it was real but I can't remember what that pertained to.

I should go back further to ensure that I document other thoughts that occurred to me while I was still in North Carolina. The last time I posted, I was about to go open his personal belongings envelope from the hospital. I ended up making multiple trips around the house looking for a pair of scissors and I could not find any. I ended up using a pair of those decorative scissors used for scrapbooking. As I was walking down the hall in my search, my body was overcome with goosebumps, chills, whatever you want to call them. It was far from chilly. Maybe it was my nerves. Maybe it was Matt. I'd like to think it was the latter. I opened the envelope and pulled out the plastic bag that contained his gold cross - a necklace he wore every day. Right in the center of the cross there was a very prominent indentation. Right where he had gotten hit by that piece of equipment (just one of many places). But it was right in the very center. Now the extensions of the cross stick outward when I put the necklace on, instead of laying flat. The other thing inside was his wedding band; several blood marks were on it. I held it. I smelled it. I just looked at it. Now, it has a permanent home on my left index finger. I'm glad it fits. I wear his cross at night. It makes me feel like he is with me, like he always used to be at night.

I wear the cross in the same direction he wore it that day. It's easy to tell with the indentation. But I woke up Wednesday morning, the morning of his funeral, and it was turned around the other way. It was facing the other direction, the way it would be facing if he was wearing it and gave me a hug.

Noah knows who Daddy is. He is quick to point him out in pictures. I wish he would grow up knowing his daddy like the way we always pictured it. Playing catch, helping Daddy mow the lawn, going for walks. Family trips, giving him dating advice, shaking his head at his choice of music. Same goes for Chloe. She is going to miss walking down the aisle with her daddy on her wedding day. That just sticks out for me for some reason. But I have to erase all of those "plans" from my mind now. Erase our future. Start over.

We went to the cemetery on Monday and I chose Matt's burial plot. Actually, I chose both of our burial plots. When I die, I will be buried right next to him. I chose a place on a hill that's near the entrance. The headstones face west. One day, we will be together again on that hill, watching the sun go down behind the trees together. Matt, you have no idea how much I look forward to that day when I get to see you again. And I know you want me to live a long and healthy life but it's hard for me to think the same right now.

His birthday is Sunday, July 31. I ordered a book by Glenn Beck to give to him. It came to the door on Friday, July 22. I just set it on the counter.

This post is a jumbled mess but I'm just writing whatever comes to mind because it has been several days. I want to address a few things that happened on the morning of July 20. The officers gave me his wallet after delivering the news. It had lots of tiny pieces of glass stuck to it and inside of it. It smelled like coffee. I thought he must have done a Starbucks run on his way out of town because of that... and his wallet was in the center console after having taken it out to pay for his coffee, like he usually did instead of putting it back in his pocket. That's why it had glass stuck to it. And the coffee spilled all over it during the crash. I wonder what happened to his cell phone and our computer. I wonder what the Jeep looks like. I wonder if I will even want to see it. A part of me does want to see it. I don't know. It might help me with closure. The picture in my mind is probably not much worse than what it really looks like anyway.

I chose not to view his body. I don't think it would have done anything for me. His spirit was not there so I wouldn't have been looking at HIM. I would have been looking at his vessel. Even during the visitation, funeral and burial, I did not feel like he was in that casket. I felt like he was around me but not in there. It was just ceremonial to perform everything around his body but his soul was and is elsewhere.

Matt would want me to make one thing clear, if nothing else: He did NOT die at the scene. I have read some news reports that say he died in the crash but he did not. In fact, the funeral director told me he was surprised he even made it to the hospital. Matt was strong-willed. He is a fighter. And anyone who knew him in the summer of 2000 would know that. The crash happened at 10:23am and Matt died at the hospital at 11:35am. His immediate cause of death was blunt force head trauma. I know he didn't want to leave us. He would never leave us. And so he fought until he could fight no more.

I told him to stay home that day. He was feeling a little sick on Tuesday and I told him to stay home and get some rest. He never took a day off. Like I said, he was very strong-willed and a hard worker. He was extremely devoted to his job and excelled in every way that he could. He said, "I can't take a day off." I said, "Yes you can. That's why they give you sick days." "I don't have sick days, I have PTO." Well, you can guess how that conversation ended. PTO, sick days... same thing, but no. I guess he sort of compromised. He decided to get up on Wednesday and just take his time. Take it slow. That morning I remember him saying, "Well, I will just go out to a few offices today," he helped me get Noah and Chloe out the door, as usual... and we kind of yelled "bye" to each other as I was out the door. I wish I had kissed him goodbye. Or at least told him I loved him. Although I never did put much money on the words "I love you". I always believed it was in the actions, not the words. We did say it at least once a day. But I just wish I had said it that morning. The last time I kissed him was Tuesday night and it was on the cheek before I went to bed. I told him I was kissing him on the cheek instead of the lips because he was sick.

Last night was really difficult. Everything was over. There was no more planning to be done. Nothing to take my mind away from the fact that this is it. And it really sunk in. My husband is gone. I woke up to him and went to bed with him and it will never be like that ever again. All I have are memories. And I never want to forget those memories. I never want to forget the way he smelled. The way he felt when he hugged me. His voice.

He really was my whole world. Noah and Chloe, your daddy loved you with all his heart and then some. He would never let you down. He would protect you with his own life. He was strong, funny, vibrant, inspirational, giving and so much more. He will always be with you.

My Love

If you hadn't left this Earth before me then my only wish would be that we left together because I would never want this agony for you, honey. But I am here for our children and I know you live in them.

Our long journey to Michigan begins in about ten hours. I haven't packed a thing yet. Neither for myself nor for the kids. I don't even know how long we will be there. I know this trip I am about to take is going to lead me right back to the pain I felt upon hearing the news of Matt's death. It will be like living it over again in a new location. The new faces I will see will bring me right back to square one. And I know that's all part of the process. Because once my wounded heart heals just a little bit at my mom's house, it is just going to re-open again at the visitation. And then again at the funeral. And I can't even bear to think about the burial. I can't. No. And thinking about Noah... Chloe is much too young to grasp a sliver of what's happening but Noah...

My Dad is going to view Matt's body at the funeral home before I do. If I do. He will tell me whether or not he thinks it's a good idea. I trust his judgment.

I am the only one awake right now and this is when I imagined would be a good time to go open Matt's personal belongings envelope that I was given at the hospital. It contains his wedding band and a gold cross necklace that he always wore. I'm going to go open it and then get some sleep. I hope I meet him in my dreams tonight because I haven't yet.