I'm not sure what possessed me.

I all but blurted out the fact that I was a widow in chemistry on Wednesday. It happened like this: we were just taking a little break (two hour class) and I sit in front. Somehow, the conversation between the instructor and another student led to the fact that they both had ex-fiances and they needed to share stories. Then I was sitting there, listening, and said, "I got you both beat. I'm a widow." Yup. It was the perfect opportunity. Many were shocked and felt sorry for me. My professor asked some questions and she had already known that I have two young kids so she was just amazed. She had to collect herself for a minute before continuing class and said now chemistry doesn't seem so important, lol. But it was good. I'm glad I had the opportunity to share. I had been feeling kind of angry and bitter all week leading up to that. Then I had support group right after class....

Several of the people there shared how they spent time with their kids and they were able to talk to each other about their feelings of sadness. That was heartwarming to me because I don't have that "luxury". My kids barely have a clue and say Noah knows what's going on... it's not like we can bond over our feelings about it. It is pretty depressing that it was our little family of four that has turned into a family of three and I'm the only one who has a concept of it. I know what my kids are missing. They don't.

Last night, as I was putting Noah to bed I said, "Do you remember when Daddy played XBox?" He replied, "Uhuh". Then I said, "Remember when Daddy mowed the lawn?" "Mhmm."

"Remember when Daddy cooked on the grill and you helped him?"

"Mhmm"

I stopped and layed there with him for a few seconds and he said, "More."

So I kept trying to think of other things.

"Remember when Daddy blew big bubbles in the backyard?"

"Uhuh."

"Remember when Daddy would get all dressed up for work in his suit and tie?"

"Mhmm."

"Remember Daddy's sunglasses? He would let you wear them?"

"Mhmm."

"Remember when Daddy would play his guitar?"

"Mhmm.... more."

It was really quite sweet. I went on until I fell asleep with him.

I took both kids to the cemetery with me last weekend. The weather was nice. I took Noah out of the car first and said, "Go see Daddy!" He walked over to the headstone and placed his hand on our picture that's etched on the front. Then he ran off to go kiss statues. He ran up to one and said, "angel!" Then he pointed to the wings and said, "Butterfly!"

It's amazing I haven't yet missed an exit on the expressway. Driving puts me in such deep thoughts that sometimes I don't even know how I got behind a certain car. Where did that car come from? That's what I think. This morning was a close call. I was in the lefthand lane... deep in thought, always has something to do with Matt, life, God, etc... and there's my exit. No warning whatsoever! I got over in time. Barely. On my way back to Newaygo, I all of a sudden think, "Where am I? Did I pass my exit?" Then I check out my surroundings to try to figure it out. I could totally fall victim to a farm tractor these days.

In other shallow news - school has been going well. I ended up with 100% on my chemistry exam and 94% on my biology exam. I have a research summary to write for psych and an exam in that class next week. I also have to start working on my biology lab report.

I finally did a will and trust. I can officially die and it will be okay.

This song makes me cry:

I'm sure there was something else I've been wanting to write. I get all these ideas in my head throughout the week but finding the time to blog now is rare. So, by the time I have a chance, I can't remember anything. I wanted to make writing a priority today.

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

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

"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.

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.

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.

"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.

If I didn't have Noah and Chloe...

If I didn't have our two beautiful children, I would feel like I had nothing. There would be no purpose in my life. So in a way, Matt, you saved my will to live by giving us these precious little ones. Without you... they are all I have left.

At his visitation, I knew the initial sight of his casket would be a difficult moment. And it was. I just couldn't believe that my husband's body was in there. And his soul was not. I don't know exactly what went through my mind as I wept on my knees in front of it. He was gone. Our children's father was gone. Our future was gone. Taken. Stolen from us. I regained my composure for most everything else. Up until the funeral procession. His funeral was beautiful, by the way. Exactly how he would have wanted it.

At the burial, as I stated earlier, I did not have as hard of a time with it as I thought I would because I did not feel like he was in there. It was his body... that I will very much miss holding me, kissing me, cuddling me. But I know his soul is still very much alive and with us. He is watching over us now from another realm. I miss him. I planted a kiss on his casket before I walked away and my lipstick marks were left behind. There's the kiss I should have given him that morning before he died.

We are now in Petoskey... arrived late last night. I looked at the bed in "my" room and remembered the last time I was here. I was with Matt. It was Christmas time. And that was "our" room. The last time I was in that bed, I was with him. I was six months pregnant with Chloe and Noah was almost 16 months. I remember taking a family nap in that bed the last time we were here.

Chloe was born on March 31. Matt's birthday is July 31. She was almost two weeks "late" but, really, she was right on time. She wanted to share the 31st of the month with her daddy. Chloe, you will be four months old on Daddy's birthday.

Matt wanted Chloe to call him Daddy. He thought it sounded sweet and wanted Chloe to be Daddy's little girl. She will be. Always will be Daddy's little girl.

I have some sense of our new future. I will be coming back to Michigan this fall. Matt and I always thought we would want to come back to Michigan one day. Although we never would have guessed it would be like this. I'm a widow. A single mother of two. Matt would never have wanted it to be this way. He had very strong feelings about a two-parent household. I did, too. So now I feel that it is very important to be nearby family. Because their father is gone and they need a strong family structure. And I definitely believe they will get that. They have received so much love in the last week. There are so many people here for us and here for them that I have no doubt they will still grow up with a very strong sense of family and strong sense of community.

Exactly what Matt would have wanted.

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.

Strength.

Today I am feeling unusually strong. It almost scares me. I know it is going to come and go though.

Three days ago I was in our closet doing something I never imagined I would be doing so soon... or ever: Choosing a suit in which my husband will be buried. Nobody will see him. But I chose his light gray pinstripe suit because pinstripes are just his thing. And the gray is a nice, light color; fitting for summer. I chose his favorite white shirt. He wanted more for his birthday because he loved them so much. I chose a bright blue, gray and white striped tie. Blue was his favorite color. When I make decisions like this on his behalf, I don't worry about whether or not he will like it. At first I did worry a little. But now I feel like the reason I make the choices I do is because he is somehow guiding me.

We went to the funeral home this morning. Walking up to that door made me sick to my stomach but we kept each other strong. I walked inside and it was an inviting atmosphere. We sat down to discuss things and my eyes met an empty chair on the other side of the room. I wondered if Matt was there with me.

We walked downstairs to choose a casket and I got that feeling in my stomach again. But it was okay. Two caskets immediately caught my eye. Two that I knew would appeal to Matt had the material created something different, such as a table or dresser. So the decision was fairly easy to make.

My heart will be aching for a long long time to come. But I look to our beautiful children - into their eyes - and know that a piece of Matt is looking back.

He is everywhere.

I swear I heard him whisper my name this morning. "Steph" I know my mind is just making things up because I want so badly to hear him again. To see him again. To touch him again. But I don't care. Maybe it was real.

I was going through Noah's drawer this morning and noticed a brand new unworn pair of navy pinstripe pants. Pants that I grabbed off the clearance rack at Babies R Us last fall. I thought, "Matt is going to love these." Noah never did have a chance to wear them. I kept them around just in case he might still fit into them for some other special occasion like Easter or something. I didn't realize when I bought those pants, Noah would be wearing them to his daddy's funeral.

I think about what went through his mind right before it happened. Or right as it happened. I want nothing more than to know that he was unafraid, pain-free. But I won't know that, ever. I have to keep reminding myself that no matter how tragic his death was, he is looking down on us from a place that is providing him nothing but comfort and assurance that we will be okay. Because I know he is worried about us... that is how he is. And I am, too. But being surrounded by family and friends and thousands of warm wishes helps me realize that I am not alone.

The abundance of prayers for both Matt, myself and our families is so very much appreciated.