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...

"Could the Maker of the stars hear the sound of my breaking heart?"

I like to imagine what Matt would be doing if he was here with me. I never want to forget the expressions on is face; the look in his eyes. I visualize him with me when I am out doing things or at someone's house.

Our monument looks fantastic. I'm very pleased with it. Matt's date of birth and date of death are carved perfectly into the jet black granite. One day, my date of death will join the party and my body will be laid to rest next to his.

I went to Mass this morning alone. I went to Our Lady of Consolation, Matt's church; the one he invited me to years ago. We used to go there together. This was the first time I've ever been to Mass alone and I haven't been to Our Lady since his funeral. There were a couple of times I had to fight back tears.

Half of me is embracing this life and the other half is not. The side that embraces this new life is being thankful for all I have been blessed with despite the tragedy that caused it. The side that is struggling just keeps thinking about how long I have to (presumably) live without Matt and all the things I am going to encounter throughout my life for which Matt should be there, too. But he won't be there.

Heard that song today. Love it. Tenth Avenue North has some good stuff.

The other day (Friday) I decided that I still love this time of year. I can't not love it. It's certainly different without my soul mate here but I still love it. I am sad but there's still something magical about Christmas. I just pray that I continue to feel Matt's presence throughout the season. I know I shouldn't think about this stuff but I think New Year's is going to be the most depressing. I'm planning on going to bed early and just pretending like it's another day. At least with 2012 comes the hope of 12-21-12. A girl can hope right?

I miss him so much. I had been feeling quite well all weekend and then today it slowly went downhill. I know I need to be patient and understand that this is all a part of the LONG healing process but it's still annoying.

Lord, help me to be patient and allow my heart to heal in Your time. Amen.

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.

I'm in our house.

I keep envisioning Matt walking through the front door with his laptop bag, sunglasses on, dressed up in a suit as if he had just gotten home from work saying, "Hey!" "Hey buddy!" to Noah... as Noah runs toward him saying, "Dada!"

Like... is this seriously real? I will never see that again, will I? It's just hard to believe, that's all. It's hard not to look at the front door and expect him to walk in any minute.

So now I'm back and now the long process begins... getting everything sorted out. Cleaning up the life we built here and starting all over again in Michigan. Alone. And by alone, I mean... without Matt. I know I won't really be alone. I am so lucky to have all the support from family and friends that I do. But Matt won't be there. I always thought about how lucky I was to have him. And about how I don't know what I would do without him. Well, I guess now I better figure that out.

Here in Greenville, I'll continue to send the kids to daycare while I work part-time. Hopefully that will allow me to pack everything up and get the house on the market in a relatively short period of time. Then I'll move back to Michigan.

I'm going to look for jobs back in Grand Rapids. I will be living in Petoskey until I find something. Then, when I do find something, I will have to line up daycare and take up residence with some family down there until I feel comfortable moving out on my own with these two little ones. I'm scared for what the future holds but having a rough plan makes it slightly easier.

We visited Matt's grave last night. Even though he is not necessarily there, it's still a nice place to go to pray and reflect. This weekend, our church down here is holding a Memorial Mass for Matt. And then we will go put up a cross at the site of the accident. I like doing things to remember him... it just makes me feel good.

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.