Nothing is ours.

If there is one thing I've learned since losing Matt, it's that nothing on this Earth... nothing in this life... is ours. Anything that we think is ours is only temporary. Everything we have is temporary. What we do with those things in the time we have them is what really matters. Make it count. Everything belongs to God. It is heartbreaking to lose the people we love... but I am to the point where I realize everything is His and I am prepared to surrender all that I have for Him. It's all a part of our plan and the greatest gift I have been given is that very realization. I call it "surrendering" and "giving up" because I know in my heart that taking heartbreak with faith, strength and grace will ultimately lead me to what really matters - eternal life after death. That means being rewarded with the indescribable joy that will come from being with those I love again. All of this is temporary.

We oftentimes say, "I just wish I could wake up and this would all be a bad dream." It is. It will happen one day. On the day I die, Matt will be there to say, "It was all just a bad dream." It will seem like a very very long time between now and when that happens. But it will happen.

I start each day reading my devotional and accompanying Bible verses before I step out of my car. Then I try to keep God at the forefront of my mind in everything I do. I try to take everything one week at a time... one day at a time is even better. And one task at a time is even better. I try to focus on the exact present because it's what I have control over. My future is taken care of. The present is what I can control. That's all I can control. So that's what I try to do.

Matt has been my greatest inspiration for strength through all of this. He took the event that changed his life - the car accident that almost took his life 11-1/2 years ago - that left him unable to perform all of the basic functions we perform every day - and he powered through it with strength and faith and made that event something for which he was thankful because he allowed it to change his life for the better. And he was only 17. He took his experience and it shaped the wonderful person he was and he grew from it. He was thankful for it. He was able to thank God for a tragedy because it gave him a new appreciation for life.

So rather than letting the details of the car accident and what he was doing that day get in my way of the big picture, I have been trying my hardest to set all that aside and focus on the things that really matter. The things I can control - one of which is being faithful to God and understanding that everything is His. I want to believe that there is hope for a bright future for all of us that Matt left behind. I want to believe that I will be happy again one day like I was with him. I want to believe that someday God will bring me someone with whom I can share my life and who the kids can call "dad". I am growing more each day in my faith and I know what kind of person I want to be. It's a process.

I think about where I was six months ago and look at where I am now... I don't think I imagined I would be doing this well. I hoped I would be doing this well but I didn't think I would be. It's just amazing what God can do.

Untitled

Why I try my best to get to campus early: Because when I realize 15 minutes before lecture that I didn't print off my outlines, I still have time to run to the library. That was close. I worry about myself sometimes. Oh, but I did get 100% on my first bio quiz. ;) I'm on the right track so far but all of this ionic bond and hydrogen bond stuff is getting a little insane.

About this revelation I had last night while attending the support group... one of the people there mentioned that his daughter said 2011 was a great year. Even though she had lost her mom, a lot of other good things still happened.

Which got me thinking. I guess I still wouldn't describe 2011 as a "great" year. However, it was a very special year. It was the last seven months of Matt's life and I was there to spend it with him. We didn't know it would be the end, but we still made many good memories (the birth of Chloe, for one) and I'm happy and thankful for those seven months of 2011 that ended up being Matt's last. I kind of confused myself when I said that 2011 sucked and I have no reason to celebrate it and yet I was sad to leave it behind. Of course I was sad to leave it behind... 2011 contains my last memories of my "old" life. And that's something to be cherished. Okay, so the first half of 2011 was wonderful. The second half was very dark but very important and shaped who I am today. Just like everything that happens to us shapes the person we are. Most importantly, the second half of 2011 was the period in my life where I feel I truly found God. That should really surpass everything.

Back to the day-to-day... the kids seems to be doing fine in daycare. Although I feel that now Noah is starting to take on his own form of grief and only time will tell where that goes. I have been working through my grief since the day Matt died and yet... Noah is just beginning. I don't even know how it's going to unfold. Same with Chloe.

Anyway, I found a Bible verse I love today (another one):

"Rejoice in hope, endure in affliction, persevere in prayer." - Romans 12:12

Christmas

I typed the following into a Word document last night due to my sketchy internet connection.

Christmas. It was honestly not as bad as I anticipated. I kept myself busy and these kids make it impossible to ignore the joy that this time of year brings. They are my angels. It was fun. I wish more than anything that Matt could have been here to watch their faces light up (well, Noah’s face) at the Christmas lights and presents… and I hope that he was able to see that. I just wish we could have been together; the family that we should have been. We should have been together in our home in North Carolina doing all this. We should have been packing up to leave for Michigan tomorrow. This was supposed to be OUR first Christmas together in our home.

I guess I’ve gotten used to the “should have beens”. I tend to think of them now as “never meant to be’s”. It just wasn’t meant to be that way. I always thought it would be but God had other plans. Even when I think of it that way… doesn’t make it any less sad. The busyness of the holiday kept me from becoming depressed. I’ve been constantly surrounded by loving family and I’ve been focused on trying to make this time of year fun for others (like the kids, of course). What is kind of cool is that Matt saw what half of their presents were. I bought their Christmas presents throughout the year – one per child per month to be exact. I had a lot of fun doing it that way. I looked forward to a new month because I got to keep my eye out for presents and I would show Matt what they were. I wonder what he would have gotten me for Christmas this year. I haven’t even really thought about what I would have gotten for him. I push that to the back of my mind although every time I go shopping, I still can’t help but to glance at the men’s clothes and think about what he would look good in or what he would like. I oftentimes think, “I wish Matt was here so I could buy that for him.” The only difference between Christmas this year and Christmases past is that I would be sad when Christmas was over in years past; I would start counting down the days until the next Christmas on December 26. Now, I am just glad it’s over and I don’t really care about the next one. It’s just another day without Matt. I don’t mean for that to sound as negative as it comes off; it’s true. I still partake in celebrations but the bottom line is… it’s just another day without Matt. Everything is duller now.

Overall, Christmas was okay. Different but okay. I get up every day and think, “I’m okay” and I thank God every night for the strength He has graced me with. I know He will direct me, I just have to let Him lead. And I continuously think about the day I will see Matt again. That alone makes me happy. It’s what I live for.
I found a new daycare for the kids. It is so great that it was the only place I toured. It’s very similar to the center we used in North Carolina so I felt comfortable with it right away. It’s new, I like the way it’s set up and it’s very close to the highway. It’s just around the corner from where I grew up. I thought today while I was driving that I appreciate my hometown so much more after being away for 3-1/2 years; especially under these circumstances. It feels good to be back home where my support system is. I’m so glad that our kids will be raised here, around people who knew their dad and will be able to share stories about him.

I went for a manicure on Friday and she asked straight away what my “hubby” did for a living. When Matt comes up in conversation, I automatically go to say, “He’s dead,” but I stop myself because it sounds so horrible. I always end up saying, “He died in July,” but I still shared that he was a pharmaceutical sales rep. One of these days I will feel comfortable just saying he’s dead. I just need to say it. Maybe I still can’t grasp it so I try to use nicer terms. Turns out, the woman doing my nails lost a child years ago. She said after a while, it just becomes a part of your story and you don’t worry about other people feeling sorry for you. It is what it is and it can never be changed.

Right now, I am just doing the best I can with what I have and letting God do the rest. I hope everyone had a merry Christmas with good food, good family and good faith!

Then and now

I was not very religious before Matt died. I wanted to be. I believed. I respected religion. But anything I had just felt it was coming from the outside. I was religious according to what I saw in other people. I was just trying to do what they did... going through the motions, if you will. It was not coming from within. I don't even like to admit this but it was almost as though I turned my nose up at the idea of really trying. But now I realize that I shouldn't have to "really try." It should just be there. It wasn't there. I don't know why. Matt was a good start though. He brought me to church and he encouraged me to attend Mass regularly and pray regularly. I was baptized because of him. And that is a really big deal! I only now realize what a big deal that is. Because now I realize how important it is to "Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10), "Fear not for I am with you" (Isaiah 41:10), "Trust in the Lord with all your heart" (Proverbs 3:5), etc. etc. Just live in Christ. I was not before. Now the gospel is on my lips and on my heart; something completely uncharacteristic of the person I was before Matt died. I truly feel it from within where I didn't before.

I received an incredibly kind and gracious letter from the CEO and president of Mary Free Bed. As if he isn't busy enough, he took the time to hand-write a thank you card in response to the donation and letter I sent in memory of Matt! The donation will be used specifically for resources related to traumatic brain injury patients, which is so wonderful and exactly what Matt would want. I can only imagine how happy this makes him and I am happy to have been able to contribute to an organization that Matt held near and dear to his heart.

"I had heard of you by word of mouth,

but now my eye has seen you." Job 42:5

My first guest entry

I felt that Tracy (Matt's mom) would provide a good perspective on the things we are experiencing so I asked her if she would like to write something up for my blog. I was hoping she would write about her after-death experience and she did! :)

My dearest Stephanie,
Your words, “I was so heartbroken over the fact that he died so tragically and suddenly and I was never at his side” struck a deep chord with me. I had that exact feeling over eleven years ago when I learned of Matt’s first accident. Despair quickly set in, as I wanted my son to know that I was nearby when and if he took his final breath. Hundreds of miles and a long drive home stood between us. I was so afraid that he might die alone, without Mark and I; his mom and dad. I have since learned that this is far from the truth. On August 20, of last year, as you well know, I experienced death first hand. Thank you for asking me to share my story.

I had taken a four to five mile run along Lake Michigan with two friends. I felt great, though it was a very warm August morning. Three hours later, I began to shuck corn on our front porch to freeze for the winter. I had been bent over for quite some time and when I stood up, I had pressure and a pinched feeling in my chest. I walked into the house, thinking that if I stretched, it would go away. It didn’t. Mark was just getting out of the shower. I told him I didn’t feel well. He said, “You don’t look good. You are as white as a ghost.” When I described the chest pressure and pain, he told me I might be having a heart attack.

“I can’t be having a heart attack!” I replied in disbelief.
The pain began to radiate into my jaw. Mark insisted I go to the hospital with him, as he was on his way to work there.

Ten minutes later I was in the emergency department. As a nurse and Mark were wheeling me into a room, I distinctly remember looking up at Mark from the wheelchair. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

I began having the most remarkable dream I ever remember…

…as Mark and the triage nurse quickly lifted me onto the table. Mark watched in horror as my body postured and seized, gasping for a breath. I turned shades of red as my lungs cried for air. My face contorted into a silent scream. My body became lifeless; eyes open, staring at the ceiling. For three long minutes the emergency department fought to save my life. Mark held my hand, thinking “I can’t believe I just watched my wife die.”

…In my dream, a feeling of pure love and peace enveloped my very being. I walked into a sunny clearing where I met at least five people. I clearly remember they were different ages and sizes, but their faces are only shadows to me now. I remember talking to these people, thinking “This is so amazing, I need to remember this.” I was completely happy and loved. I felt like I knew them.

Then I felt very annoyed, and I believe this was when the second shock of two-hundred joules of electricity coursed through my body. I could hear Mark desperately calling my name. I turned away from the faces, thinking, “I can’t believe you are interrupting me right now! This is so important.”
I then found myself staring at the stark fluorescent lights. “You had a heart attack,” Mark said.

I began to pray, wondering if I might die. At that moment, I didn’t realize that I actually had. I had been given CPR for three minutes before I was revived by a second shock.

I talked with Matt on the phone that night. We had both survived events against all odds. Ninety Seven percent of all people who experience what I did do not live. Had we arrived at the hospital one minute later, I would not be here.

Today, I draw a great sense of peace and comfort from my event. While my body appeared to be in great pain, I have no recollection of that. I know in my heart that Matt did not feel pain, either.

It was difficult for me to return to that peace that I once felt upon learning of my son’s death, even though I knew it should comfort me. It is now a memory that I return to often, as it does bring me a great sense of peace.

I KNOW that Matt was not alone when he died. He is now in the most remarkable place in the world. It is my hope that I can someday make it back to that place where I felt such tremendous peace and love. This yearning will remain with me for the rest of my days that I walk this earth.

My journal entry from August 7, 2011:
I plan to honor Matt’s memory by loving more; showing my family and friends the appreciation, love and affection that they deserve. God’s joy exists everywhere, I just need to notice it. I will take this journey, however unwelcome it may be, with honor, faith, hope, grace and love. In doing so I know I will be reunited with Matt again, someday.

2 Cor 5:2,8
So we are always courageous, although we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yet we are courageous, and we would rather leave the body and go home to the Lord. Therefore, we aspire to please him, whether we are home or away.

I love you dear Stephanie.
Tracy

"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.

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

It's one of those days where I'm thinking...

My husband is gone, my best friend is gone, my kids' father is gone, my life sucks.

Now that I have that out of my system...

I called the tattoo shop today and he said they CAN tattoo someone who is breastfeeding but they advise against it. And if I felt like I truly NEEDED it now, I would need to bring written permission from my doctor. The chance of a staph infection is really small but, if I got one, it would pass to Chloe through my milk so I'm going to just wait. I plan on weaning her in the spring so I'm going to set a goal of having her weaned by my 27th birthday so I can get one for my birthday. :) That will be my gift from Matt, lol.

I'm going computer shopping this weekend. I will definitely miss Matt, the computer guru. I don't feel right going to buy a new computer without him. But I kind of need one. I'm currently using a five-year-old laptop that Matt bought when he worked for Dell. It had turned into our crappy computer that I used as a cookbook in the kitchen or gave to Noah to play with. Thank goodness it still works. But it's definitely on its way out. Even a piece of the corner is chipped off, lol. Oh, and it doesn't hold a battery charge anymore. It must be plugged in to function.

I have listened to this song for a while now and I finally just took notice of the actual lyrics the other day:



Side note: There are clips from The Passion in there. I remember when Matt and I watched that movie together at his apartment. It was my first (and only) time seeing it. I was so affected by it and Matt told me I was feeling the Holy Spirit. I can't remember if I was baptized at that point or not (if not, I was close). That memory just sticks out to me.

"Be prepared to suffer for Me,

in My Name. All suffering has meaning in My kingdom. Pain and problems are opportunities to demonstrate your trust in Me. Bearing your circumstances bravely - even thanking Me for them - is one of the highest forms of praise. This sacrifice of thanksgiving rings golden-toned bells of Joy throughout heavenly realms. On earth also, your patient suffering sends out ripples of good tidings in ever-widening circles.

When suffering strikes, remember that I am sovereign and that I can bring good out of everything. Do not try to run from pain or hide from problems. Instead, accept adversity in My Name, offering it up to Me for My purposes. Thus, your suffering gains meaning and draws you closer to Me. Joy emerges from the ashes of adversity through your trust and thankfulness."

This was the most perfect devotional today. It's from "Jesus Calling" by Sarah Young.

"My brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance, and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing." James 1:2-4

The greatest gift.

I've been thinking. Obviously. I've been thinking for the past two and a half months. I try to keep my mind on the bright side. That's something Matt always admired about me so I want to keep that quality through this nightmare. For him. It's what he would want me to do.

When I look at the big picture, I have been given the greatest gift. I was given the gift of love through Matt. We had our own little fairytale. I have been given the gift of two children with him; two little blessings who will keep him alive. And, most of all, I've been given the gift of a guardian angel watching over us. The best guardian angel I could ever have... my husband. My husband will be there waiting for me when I die. He will walk me to the gates of Heaven, hand in hand. I couldn't ask for a better angel to welcome me home. There's no one else I'd rather have there than Matt. And I can't wait.

This life is just a stepping stone.

I thought about all this at roughly 12:45am. The night was so bright. I could see the lake. I just stared out the sliding door and looked at the stars. And I was overcome by the beauty of the night. And I just felt Matt was out there.

I told him before I fell asleep that he "made me so happy today". I hope he heard me.


(That photo was taken in the church on our wedding day.)

I just prayed my rosary for the first time.

I will say it's about time... I remember Matt trying to teach me once. I wasn't taking it seriously though. But now I am different. I feel different. I almost feel as though I've been given a new pair of eyes; I see the world differently. I've been given a new heart; I have more compassion than I ever felt possible. I look the same but I don't feel the same. I almost feel... fearless. Because God is with me at all times; I never saw it before. Now I see it and it's a wonderful gift; I just wish there could have been another way to it.

This was in my daily devotion from yesterday (I had to catch up today):

If you look back on your journey thus far, you can see that days of extreme weakness have been some of your most precious times. Memories of these days are richly interwoven with golden strands of My intimate Presence.

And this is one of my favorite Bible verses:

"Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hard ships, persecutions, and contraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12:10

When I am weak, then I am strong.

Transitory Phase

What am I doing? Relaxing. Reflecting. Thinking. Praying.

Until school starts, that's what I'm doing. I think Petoskey is the perfect place to do that, too. It is so quiet, peaceful, somewhat isolated and beautiful.

I'm going to enjoy this phase while it lasts because soon I will be delving into a new life in Grand Rapids. I will have school, therapy and support groups. But right now I just am.

I feel as though Matt and I have had similar challenges when I go back and read his accounts of his experience recovering from his accident. They are very different events; Matt’s was very much a physical AND emotional battle while mine is just emotional. But what his tragedy did for his faith is what my tragedy is doing for my faith. I suppose that God is most apparent through heartbreak. It seems somewhat contradictory but when all else fails you, God is the constant; God is what I have left when everything else has been stripped away. This has been a wake up call.

“You are my rock and my fortress, for your name’s sake lead and guide me.” –Psalm 31:4

I had another dream with Matt last night but I barely remember it. All I remember is that it was our anniversary and he "came back" for it. I know there was so much more to it and there was dialogue; it seemed kind of lengthy... but that's all I remember.

Grief is a gift.

I have been struck down by tragedy. My entire life has changed. But I can see through the darkness. I am still lucky. I am lucky to have known Matt; to have loved him and to have been loved by him. I am lucky to have two beautiful children, who are a living piece of him. And I am lucky that I am closer to God than I’ve ever been before.

There is beauty in grief. Grief is a reflection of the love you had for someone. It is a feeling that leaves you so raw and so bare; you have nothing left to hide. It leaves you at your lowest point, from where you have nowhere to go but up. It makes you reevaluate your life; makes you regain appreciation for things you may have taken for granted before. In a way, grief is a gift. And it should be embraced; not hidden.

One big test of faith

Being "home" is bittersweet. Like I said earlier, it doesn't feel too much like home anymore. I don't feel like this is our home. It's just a place where all of our stuff is. It is nice to be around his stuff, though. Just makes me feel closer to him. Even though it makes me miss him terribly at the same time.

I wore his cross today just so I had it close while traveling. When I took it off later after we had been home for a while, it was turned around again. The last time this happened was the morning of his funeral. I keep trying to find some obvious explanation for it, but I always clasp the necklace using my left hand. The clasp is in my left hand and I use my right hand to guide the other end onto it. So when I go to take off the necklace and find that I need to unclasp it using my right hand, I realize that the cross is facing the other way. I just think it's Matt there to comfort me when I need it most. And I REALLY needed it today. I love him so much. Even from the other side, he's there for me. I may not be able to physically touch him but I know he's here.

This is going to sound really crazy but I've seen hallucinations of him out of the corner of my eye several times. Like, just for a split second. Funny how the mind makes these things up when you yearn for them badly enough.

I'm wearing one of his t-shirts. I might as well get rid of all my pajama tees (well, the ones that don't remind me of him) because I will be wearing all of his! Same thing with his boxers. :) Actually, I didn't think of that tonight; I'm wearing my own shorts. Maybe I'll change before bed.

I'm thinking about getting a tattoo on the inside of my wrist that just says "Matthew 28:20" (small and easily concealable with a bracelet if need be for professional reasons). Feel free to tell me if that is a totally bad idea and I'll regret it later. I always thought tattoos were too permanent so I didn't have much of a desire to ever get one. But Matt is permanent - and anything that symbolizes him and my faith... how could I regret it? Matthew 28:20 is the last verse of that chapter and it simply says, "I am with you always, until the end of the age." So it kind of has a double meaning. And then from there, I have gone a little wild with the tat ideas. Like... getting John 3:16 on my side. But not just "John 3:16", the actual verse. And a small, simple cross on the back of my neck. I will let those marinate for a while... but I think the one on my wrist will happen first. And even that will be a ways down the road.

Tonight has been really difficult for getting Noah to bed. I'm not being super strict about it. I am not in the right place, emotionally, to make Noah cry at bedtime. Matt used to do this, most of the time... and I know Noah misses him. It's times like this where I really miss him. Because I get to thinking about him with the kids and it breaks my heart to know he won't be there to read bedtime stories anymore, tuck them in, kiss them goodnight. That is just one of the things about being home that weakens me.

I went through some his papers in the office. It was mostly achievements, awards, letters of recommendation, admirable sales records. Matt was a hard worker. He enjoyed what he did and he was good at it. I've seen numerous sentiments from his offices about what a joy he was, how kind he was, and how he often talked about us and showed off pictures of Noah and Chloe. It is so nice to see what a positive impact he had on his clients.

Tomorrow, I need to reschedule a dentist appointment, call about a medical bill in Matt's name that I have no idea about, go get Chloe's birth certificate, finish a bunch of paperwork, get packing supplies, call our realtor, call the church and call a counselor.

I wonder why this happened to me. I can't help but think this was just one big test of faith. It could have gone one of two ways... but Matt was such a man of faith that there was no way I could have rejected God in a time like this. Why would I turn away from Him when He has my Matthew? Matt is now with God and I want to do everything in my power to earn my place with them when my time comes. I'm going to trust in Him and I thank Him every night for giving me the strength to make it through one more day.

"Welcome Home"

I had a vent here - but I wrote it out, continued my post and decided to erase it because it was too negative. And I'm not trying to dwell on the negative. I'm trying to strengthen my soul and focus on my new future.

I miss my old life... our average, ordinary, new-family life. I will say that much.

My mom and I went shopping in Petoskey yesterday. It took a little bit for me to actually get in the spirit. But I eventually went from why-am-I-trying-enjoy-myself mode to retail therapy mode. I was flipping through a clearance rack in one of the shops and came across a graphic tee that says, "Still think of you forever".

Maybe this really is all just a bad dream and we wake upon our death in Heaven. I like this card that we received:

Long before we're ready, we sadly say goodbye. But there are those in a far more beautiful place who are saying, "Welcome home."

I never realized how important sympathy cards were. But they really do help tremendously. It's amazing. I need to just compile all of them into a scrapbook so I can flip through it whenever I'm feeling sad.

I can't wait until it's my turn to be called home but I'm guessing God wants me to stay around here for a while for the sake of our kids. And I haven't proven myself worthy yet (or fulfilled my purpose). I'm not surprised Matt had though. He was such a good, genuine person. I hope to follow in his footsteps. I will.

"... 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.

"Remember, I am with you always, until the end of time." Matthew 28:20

We are back to normal internet access after being at the cottage all weekend. I was sure to keep notes on my phone of thoughts I felt were important so that I could come back here to record them.

We were sitting around the bonfire on Sunday night, Matt's birthday, and I was feeling completely hopeless, my heart full of despair. All I could think about was how Matt should have been there with me. I would have been sitting in his embrace; wrapped in his arms. I was just envisioning what should have been - something I should eventually try not to do but I know I will be doing for a long time to come so I'm not going to fight it. Everywhere I look, I either picture what we did at one time, like when I look at the fireplace in his parents' house and see us sitting there taking family pictures at Christmastime, or what we should be doing if Matt was still here right now, like around the bonfire.

It started to rain a bit while we were sitting around that fire but we were beneath a large tree so it wasn't hitting us directly... just a light sprinkle. I laid my head on my knees and just prayed. I thanked God for giving me the strength to make it through one more day. I thanked Him for embracing Matthew. I promised Him I would continue to grow closer to Him each day. I also pray to Matt. I told him, whether or not he wants to hear it, I cannot wait to see him again. I am ready whenever God is ready... and I am far from afraid. When I lifted my head, the rain just stopped.

I oftentimes wonder if Matt sees me. Or if he is right here with me. I find that I just stare a lot. I look out the window and hope that maybe Matt will be out there - like that scene in Forrest Gump when he looks out the window and sees Jenny walking toward his house but then she fades away. I also stare at empty chairs sometimes and wonder if he's sitting there.

That night, during my feelings of hopelessness and despair, before it started to rain, we noticed something that looked like a shooting star but it was much too close to be that. It was right over the lake. I took it as a sign that Matt was there and it lifted my spirits. It seems he gives me these signs when I need them most; when I am feeling very low and sorrowful. As if to say, "I am right here, darling."

I wore his cross all day on Sunday since it was his birthday.

I read the book Heaven is for Real in less than 24 hours. It helped me. Helped give me hope... or at least strengthened my hope.

Hope that Matt is in a good place filled with love and comfort.

Hope that I will see him again one day.

And hope that he will recognize me and love me just as he had here on Earth.

Hope that he is waiting for me like I'm waiting for him. I can already see the look on his face when we are reunited. I know that look.

The rest of my life, no matter how short it may be, still seems far too long to be away from him. I hate to be impatient... I know our kids will need me for a long time... but it still hurts.

I dreamt about him last night. I remember when we would watch Spouse vs. House together. We would say to each other, "I can't IMAGINE having to go three weeks without seeing or talking to you!" I wish that's all it was. I would go a year if it meant we could be together again after that year was up. But now all I have are dreams. And I will take it. No matter what, I will always have my dreams.

We were laying on our sides, facing each other. It seems like it was outside but I don't know where. We held hands; kissed. But there was no dialogue. At least not that I remember. We just looked into eachother's eyes. Matt was wearing a white button-up shirt. It could have been the one he was buried in. Those dreams, no matter how short, are the sweetest moments now. So I will hold onto them.

"Remember, I am with you always, until the end of time." Matthew 28:20