"Note: Book"

I remembered a short while ago that Matt had a Yahoo account. So I hacked into it (not really) and looked at his "sent" folder. Yes, I do feel weird going through his stuff. But I found some notes he sent to himself from his old phone. This is his first memory after his car accident in 2000. I think he wanted to write a book about his recovery, hence the subject line. So here is this little piece I found:

Note: Book
Date: Dec 10, 2009
Category: Book

Note: Book

Colors and shapes faded in and out on a wall full of reminders of the life I once lived. The urge to urinate was at the front of my mind, so I turned to the right, to find my father who was fast asleep in a cot, nestled against the windowthat overlooked a dimly-lit parking lot.

I called out to him, "dad." but a weak jumble of sound was all that came out.

I decided to let him sleep and shoved the bedsheet to the left as I slid my right foot to the side of the bed. I snapped the safety gate down, which awoke my dad. As my right foot landed on the cold floor, my father said "Matt, wait!." while he ran out the the room calling for help, I swung my left leg off the edge of the bed. I held on to the bed for a moment to allow myself to get oriented.

I let go of the bed and crumbled to the floor.


------------------------------------------

My father and a women ran to me, lifted me up and walked me to the bathroom, where I sat on the cold toilet seat. After urinating, I was helped back to my bed.

On the way to the bed, I passed a full mirror and saw a reflection that wasn't mine. It looked like a shell of a young man. His face appeared to be sunken in, blotchy, and his once perfect hair was lopsided. His long legs were lke the legs of a spider and his arms were like two twigs. It was me.

in my neck, there was a hole with a clamp. I touched it. Somehow I knew something happened to me, but I had no idea what caused me to be the stranger I saw in the mirror.

I was abruptly awoken early the following morning by my parents. I wished I could sleep more, but a woman in her twenties steppped out from the hall and said good morning.

I smiled as she introduced herself and walked over to my bedside. She helped me to the shower, where I undressed and was seated on a wheelchair.

the shower started and as I began to wash myself, embarrassment flooded my mind as the women helped wash my frail body.

Under normal circumstances I wouldve loved the position I was in, but the formerly smooth guy with the muscular body and perfect hair didn't exist. I hardly had the strength to lift my arms. How did I get here?




-- Sent from my Palm Pre

"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.

"... He that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved." -Mark 13:13

This is a lot of posting for one day but I feel like I better catch up to the present and this is another one I actually wrote over the weekend.

We were on the airplane on Saturday, July 23... still very fresh with grief and shock. We were awaiting departure to take off for Detroit. There was a couple with a young child sitting in front of us and for some reason I just picked this out of the conversation the mom was having with their son. She was trying to entertain him and distract him while waiting for takeoff. He was probably a bit older than Noah. He must have been looking at her wedding ring because she said something like, "See my ring? Daddy has one, too. When you get older you can wear a ring like Daddy."

Matt, Noah just loves the water. He is a fearless little fishy. He jumped right off the raft into my arms with no warning whatsoever. You would be so proud. We sure wish you were there to give him his first swimming lessons. Everywhere we look, Matt, we are remind of you... we miss you more than words could ever truly express. You will be missed forever.

I made an attempt at watching The Bachelorette finale. As much as he might hate for me to dish this (or maybe not; he was pretty good about owning up to his guilty pleasures), Matt and I watched this show together every Monday. But I couldn't get through the first 10 minutes. Hearing them talk about kissing each other for the rest of their lives really struck a nerve. I was supposed to kiss Matt for the rest of our lives. But it was cut short. I don't get that luxury anymore. It was taken away. It is so very difficult for me right now to watch husbands and wives together... or even just couples in general. I had that companionship - that perfect companionship - only a few short weeks ago. I only had it for six and a half years. I thought we'd have it for much longer than that. I thought we would grow old together; I would say it's a pretty fair assumption that most people make. Thought we'd watch our children have children. I thought this was our fairytale... after all we had been through... I thought we were free.

Sometimes Noah gives me a really hard time. Typical two-year-old. It is tons more difficult now though. Matt was so good at helping me through a toddler meltdown. Noah is defiant, stubborn... but Matt and I would work together (although he was much better than I was). Now, sometimes I just want to cry right along with Noah. Sometimes I just feel so angry that I am left with two very young children to raise and teach and nurture. Sometimes I just think, "Matt would know what to do." It is so dangerously easy to slip into that dark place and just feel sorry for myself... to be angry with God for taking Matt away from us - leaving me with the gigantic burden of raising a family, financially supporting them, doing everything. EVERYTHING. Leaving a four-month-old and a two-year-old without their father. But I just have to remember that it is important not to lose faith. I must play the hand I'm dealt and show God that I accept His plan... no matter how difficult. I must continue to live as Matt would want me to live and trust in God that this is my new path. I know He will guide me and I will serve Him along the way. Never losing faith. In fact, this has only strengthened my faith. I'm not going to lie, I didn't have a very strong faith before all this. It was always something Matt wanted me to work on. I did try but I didn't feel like I tried with much conviction. I always went to Matt with my questions about religion. I sure will miss those conversations.

Another thing it is dangerously easy to do is fall into the "what if" trap. What if we had decided not to move to North Carolina? What if we had chosen that week to go on vacation instead of September? What if Matt listened to me and stayed home from work that day? He would still be here. But when you step back and look at the hundreds upon hundreds of "what if" scenarios, you realize that there are simply too many factors to pinpoint just one.

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven." - Ecclesiastes 3:1

Sometimes I think that Matt could have survived this... but maybe he was granted a choice and decided that wasn't the best outcome for him or us. I don't at all want this to come off the wrong way... and I swear by all that is Holy I would have been right there at his side no matter what condition he might have come out in... but he had already survived a near-fatal brain injury 11 years ago. He had to re-learn how to walk, talk and eat. All basic functions we take for granted every day. He was left with a seizure disorder for which he had to take medication twice a day for the rest of his life and occasionally suffer a tonic clonic seizure, among other challenges. And he really persevered. Just look at all he accomplished. He considered those things a mere inconvenience compared to what other TBI survivors endure. He knew he was lucky. But maybe surviving another one wouldn't have left him so lucky again. Sometimes I picture him in Heaven during that hour he was being worked on in the emergency room; he was in Heaven discussing his options with God. And God granted him the option of eternal life in Heaven instead of having to go through that again. Maybe I was saved from having to make a decision I would NEVER want to have to make. I have no doubt this accident could have been... should have been... avoided, but because it wasn't, this was our ending. And it hurts me to the core. It's a kind of heartache I never knew existed. But we just have to have faith.