One year ago today

One year ago
today
You were taken off life support
A little bit after 7am
I'm not sure if I slept the night before
I'm not sure if I slept the whole time you were there
I hugged you- as best I could
I kissed you one last time on the lips
and the cheek
and the forehead
I felt your body
I leaned in to your breath
I touched your warm hand
I told you how much I love you
that I would love you forever
and ever
and ever
and ever
It's almost a blessing to not have been fully aware
of what was happening
to you or
to me
I could not have handled it
Looking back
I have no idea how I handled it
How I could have even turned around
and walked away from the hospital bed
as they wheeled you in to take your organs.
One year ago today
You passed from this life
I told you I would see you again
and you better be there to greet me when I go
I told you how sad I was
I told you I would take care of our animals
I told you how much I was going to miss you
How this was unfair
and I told you that you better watch over me
I told you over and over how much I love you
how I could not believe this was happening
how I would try to be as strong as I could be
and I told you again how much I love you.
Then, they took you away
and my life changed forever
and I miss you still
and I love you still
and I'm still not sure how to live without you.
But I'm trying...for you, because that's what you would want.
One year ago today
I left that hospital with half of a heart
and you left
One year ago today.

I may have...to be more present

"Life is fortified by many friendships. To love, and to be loved, is the greatest happiness of existence." Sydney Smith

I had a not-so-good day yesterday, but I'm having a decent day today. I have lost touch with things that make me happy. Painting. Running with Drake. Cooking. Writing. Listening to music. Laughing. Dancing. Sharing in my friend's joys. Reading. Traveling. Hiking.

I played Wii for the first time on Thanksgiving. It was a lot of fun, but it made me realize (based on how bad I was at it), that I have truly missed a year of my life by not really being there. How is that really the first time I played Wii? Jonathan and I were talking about getting one last year around this time.

I may have seemed okay. I may have smiled. I may have listened. I may have hugged you. I may have let you hug me. I may have laughed. I may have talked about the future. I may have been positive. I may have gone to a birthday party or a concert. I may have sympathized with you. I may have gone to work every day. I may have stared at the stars and been hopeful. I may have had one too many beers. I may have enjoyed your company. I may have enjoyed your wedding. I may have gone to mass. I may have kept up with the garden. I may have been to quail camp and driven to AZ for the 4th of July. I may have met a lot of beautiful, new people and new friends. I may have gone hiking. I may have watched a billion football games. I may have cried with you. I may have talked your ear off. I may have been happy for you. I may have wanted to open up to you.

Sometimes I have listened, but I'm not really listening. Sometimes I have wanted to understand what you are saying but I have not understood. Sometimes I have wanted to tell you more. How I really feel. I wanted to tell you that even though I am smiling, I am not always smiling. Sometimes I have wanted to let down my guard, but I can't. Not yet... but I'm trying. I never thought I would be so reserved, so careful. So scared. I have always been open and honest and loving. I have always been able to talk about everything. I jump into everything with an open heart and mind. Not this time...and I hate that. Sometimes I don't ask questions even though I am really eager to know more. Sometimes I don't act excited or happy when I really am! I can't explain ANY of my actions but I am going to try with everything I have to be the girl I used to be. It's only fair.

From today forward, I am going to be more PRESENT in life. A gift I think I only feel from time to time. When you talk I will be listening and I will be present. I will give you my heart and my whole self. I will tell you my thoughts and feelings instead of shutting down and asking you about yours just to change the subject. I will live in the moment and be the girl I was one year ago. I know her and I miss her. I think I can become that girl if I take ownership of my life. As painful as it is, I can give some of your stuff away. You aren't here and you won't need it. I don't need it. They are just 'things' that I need to learn to let go of. When I can start to do this, I think that girl I used to know will come back. Maybe it's okay that I'm still attached to Jonathan's things, but at the same time, it is grabbing me by the hoodie of my sweatshirt as I am trying to run...

Winter

November 24th was four days ago. I got through it. Tuesday, the 23rd was actually harder on me than the 24th. I think it's the day. The day of the accident, not the date of the accident. Four days later, I am ok. I woke up today and had one of those moments when I realized I am alone. The trees and the sky and the weather have all been triggers of this. The leaves on the ground and the cold in the air all bring the vividness of that night flooding back to me.  It was unusually warm for a November night. I had my green, collared shirt on and my red jacket. It's not heavy... Jonathan wasn't wearing a coat. He had on his black and blue plaid long-sleeved shirt. The sleeves were rolled up a little ways. He had on green corduroy pants and chacos.  Jonathan could wear his chacos year round, but it was still an indication of how warm it was.  The only thing I got back were his chacos; they had to cut his clothes off of him. Probably for the better. I don't want those clothes.

I have kept myself so busy over the months that rarely do I have these sick to my stomach moments anymore. Rarely does the reality of Jonathan's absence hit below the belt. It's usually a slap across the face, but not something that stops me from moving.  Today it did.  I stopped for a moment or two and allowed memories to flood me.  I moved a lot slower doing things around the house.  Casually taking a moment or two to look out the kitchen window and see the frozen garden.  Looking at Jonathan's ashes and still wondering if I should scatter them in the river or leave them. Still wondering...  Still not able to believe that is his body.  Memories flood me, but I keep moving.  They say that some day I will smile when I think of these memories... they won't be filled with pain.  Hoping that happens soon.

A year later, I am realizing that many people around me do not realize the extent of what I have been through, and continue to go through, nor do I expect them to.  That I may seem okay on the outside, but they don't know how much pain still exists inside.  There's no other pain like this. My past is so precious to me but I know I must live in the present and look forward to the future.

What it really means

It is November 19th. I just got home from an evening at the boss' house. I remember last year when Jonathan came. I played foosball, Jonathan and Kaufman talked about fishing that next Friday together.  My boss told Jonathan how much they thought of me at work.  That next Tuesday is when the accident happened. 

I didn't have Thanksgiving last year.  I had it in the hospital cafeteria. How I managed to put anything in my mouth, I don't know. I remember eating a lot of juicy pears that John and Judy brought from Grand Junction.  I am having vivid memories and dreams about being in the hospital. I remember the smell and how I started to smell like it after a few days. I remember the braces around Jonathan's legs to help keep the circulation going. I remember his feet being cold. They were never cold. That's how I knew how bad it was- before I was told.  I remember sleeping on two, hard, plastic chairs in the waiting room. I remember sleeping anywhere I could and not sleeping at all. I remember wearing that hospital gown. I remember holding his hand while he lay in that bed day after day. I remember how we brought in photos of him and put them up around his room. I remember a night where we all prayed in a circle around his bed. I remember my brother found some Rush songs on his iPhone that we played for him. YYZ was one of them. I remember when there were a lot of people in the room, Jonathan's heart rate would go up. I remember that stupid breathing tube and watching the stupid machines that scared the crap out me. His oxygen level would drop, he couldn't regulate his own body temperature. He would have a fever one minute and be freezing the next. When he wasn't getting oxygen, the machine would make an awful sound that I will never get out of my head.

I would squeeze his hand and hope to God that he would squeeze it back. He never did. I talked to him- non-stop. I know he could hear me. I sang to him. We kept a washcloth over his eyes because they wouldn't stay closed and they would get dried out. The nurses had to put drops in them from time to time.

The worst part is that he Looked fine. He had hardly any cuts, scrapes... nothing.  The nurses would fix or change his breathing tube and it would make him cough. He would sit up and cough just like he did.  He had the same facial features when he coughed. I could have sworn he would just open his eyes after he coughed because it was so real.  He looked like he was in pain. Like he wanted to just say 'help me. I'm here and I don't know what to do.' He twitched a lot. He rotated his arms and legs inward which, the nurses say is just a reflex and not purposeful movement. They checked his reflexes often, but it gave no indication that his brain was functioning.  Hi MRI scan looked bad. The neurologist was as nice as he could possibly be. I learned some things about the brain and then I stopped listening. 

I was able to come home a few times during the week. I felt like there had to be something I could do. Jonathan knew how much I researched everything. He would be disappointed if I didn't research this and try to come up with options... with solutions. After absolute exhaustion and lack of food, I wasn't able to read very clearly. I couldn't concentrate very well on what I was reading. I didn't understand half of it. But, I wanted to do everything I could. I wanted to challenge the doctors and tell them they were giving up. That miracles happen every single day. Why can't Jonathan be a miracle? Couldn't brain cells regenerate? When they told me they can't, I didn't believe it.

What I did believe is that even if Jonathan started to get a little bit better, even if he could open his eyes, his brain wouldn't work. He would have been like Teri Schaivo.  Would Jonathan want that or would he want to be let go? I wanted to take care of him. I wanted to have him in my home. I was not giving up.  Something happened one day in that hospital. As I was talking to Jonathan. As I was praying... All I kept thinking is that Jonathan could never fish again. He would be in a bed for the rest of his life. Whether or not he could move was one thing, but his brain wouldn't even work. I started to think less about what I wanted (him here with me) and more about what he would have chosen.  It's a beautiful thing to be able to know your husband as well as you know yourself.  To know what he would say and do and think...being so young, you don't talk about things like this. 

As Thanksgiving approaches, I am going to try to think less about the pain and the situation. I am going to give thanks that I had such an amazing and beautiful husband and give thanks that I am alive to witness the things that he is missing.  I am going to give thanks for my family and friends and for the immense support I received. I am going to give thanks that I have grieved in a healthy way... that I have grieved enough to move forward.  I am going to give thanks that I still feel the same love I always have for Jonathan, but know that my heart can continue to love even more. 

Thanksgiving will never be the same.  While I have a lot to feel sorrow for, I still have a lot to be thankful for. Thank you to God for the strength you have given me, the love in my heart, and the ability to keep going in happiness.

I went to the boss' house by myself tonight.  I don't know where Jonathan was. I invited him. 

Missing me

I found a website tonight that I had not seen.

http://www.drakemag.com/messageboard/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=13929

This picture made me cry... a lot. It's his tan face, his jacket, his hat, the way he is holding that fish...the background and all the fishing line, tippet, etc. at his side. I know this face, this look. I feel like he could walk right out of the picture into the living room.  When he comes home from a day like this, I ask him if he wore sunscreen that day.  I want to go out to dinner and talk about our day and dream about what's next on our agenda. I want to hear about this day... how was your client? How was the fishing? I want to have to go to King Soopers to get stuff for your lunches for the next day.  I want to bake cookies for your clients. I want to hear you wake up at 4-5am. I want to feel you kiss me goodbye in the morning. I want to come home to you- how you would greet me at the door and give me a kiss every single day. Not one day went by when that didn't happen. You would be making dinner and you would be so excited to show me... to have me taste the new recipe you came up with. We would take Drake on a walk. We would listen to music and have a beer.

Life is not the same without you. It will never, ever, ever be the same.  I don't know how to go from a married, stable girl to a single girl.  I'm probably not any fun to be around because I don't know how to become this other person that exists without you. I am moving forward because I have to, but I am still trying to figure out who this girl is. Once, I was part of a whole with you. I am now this 29 year-old, realizing I am going to be 30 in a year. Not knowing how I feel about that.  Feeling older and unsure of life.  Feeling out of place at a bar or a club. Feeling out of place hanging out with single, 26-ish people. Feeling out of place hanging out with my married friends. Realizing that all of my close friends are married.  Wondering if I will ever be so lucky to have kids or get married again.  Wondering what all of that would be like... then, seeing a photo of you like this and remembering what I had, where I was, who I was, and realizing I will never be that girl again. A part of me has died and it hasn't come back yet. Not only am I missing you, Jonathan, I am missing me.

In a weird place

I feel so distant from you.  Maybe it's because I have prayed to feel better and the only way I can feel better is to separate myself. I have been hanging out with someone for a little over a month. He's funny and smart and I really like to be with him. We take Drake for walks. He seems to really like Drake and Toby, which means so much to me. We enjoy being outdoors. We enjoy beer. We laugh a lot. It's strange to me to have found someone that I enjoy being with so much.

My life is drastically different. All of your things still sit where they were placed by you so long ago.  Your clothes sit folded on the top shelf in our closet. Your clothes hang in the closet.  I look at your ties one by one and remember each time you wore them. I remember you holding up a tie to a shirt and a shirt to a tie and I would help you choose the "right" combination. My combination...and you trusted me. Your jackets hang in the front closets, your hats in the spare room closet. Your waders hang in the garage. Your stuff is still everywhere.

The other day, I took your hat, your wallet, and your watch...all things you were wearing that night, and I put them in the closet. They have been on top of our bedroom dresser for a year. Just sitting there. Reminding me that your wallet is not in your back pocket. Reminding me that you aren't wearing your favorite Simms hat. Reminding me that you aren't hanging your watch out the window of our car as we go over a mountain pass... so you can tell me what your watch reads as the altitude.  The clothes you wore on November 22nd and November 23rd, sat by your side of the bed. Your pajama pants, or as you called them, your shleepy pants, a couple of t-shirts, a pair of pants with a belt, a red sweatshirt and a blue sweater. They have been there for a year. Some of the stuff I got out of your truck was sitting there. The face off your stereo, a couple of fly boxes, the smashed-up top to a rod tube, fly line, etc. etc. These all sat on your side of the bed... the side closest to the window. The side I never had to look at. The side I pile with clean clothes in order to fill the void. The side that still has your pillow lying there.

I picked up these things the other day and I put them in the closet and I put them in the laundry hamper. I can still smell your deodorant on one of the shirts.  Man, that stuff lasts a long time... that shirt is going to be hard to wash.  Sometimes I wonder if the only way I will do anything with your stuff is if I move out of our house.  I don't want to get rid of anything. I feel like maybe I can put it somewhere where I can't see it, but to actually give it away? Unconscionable.

I often wonder how if I can't do these things... how someone else could want to date me.  How if I went to a widower's house and he had all of his wife's things...how I would feel, never having lost so profoundly to be able to really understand.  I guess those questions don't really matter because he either accepts where I am in this tragedy, or he doesn't. So far, he does... and that is nice.

I am needing to change my cell phone plan. Big step. I had a family plan. I still have your phone on the plan. I can still charge up your phone and look at your messages, call your voice mail and hear your voice. Your phone number still exists in this world. Speed dial #2 (because #1 is voice mail) still says 'Pumpy.'  When I lose my phone I can use your phone to call it and find it. Sometimes I do that, and I will check my phone and it says 'Missed call-Pumpy.'  I lose my breath when that happens. I am caught off-guard. If I change my plan and upgrade my phone, it will now just be my plan. One. Uno. Me. Just me. Your phone number will go into the land of la-la to be used by some person who doesn't deserve to have it or know anything about you. Who you are. It's amazing to me that I am even thinking this way because I am one of the last people to believe that a cell phone means something this profound.  It only does to me, now, because I have a record of your texts to me, I have a record of your phone calls to me.  Sometimes you feel so distant that I need this personal reminder of our interactions together.  Changing our plan is just one more thing that pulls you away from me.  I am no longer married on the outside.

The life of a single person is drastically different than that of a married person. I was talking to my friend the other day and she was saying how her husband can never complete a task. There are all these little things that need to be done that get done half way. She was saying how frustrating it is. I had two reactions. 1. I know this feeling. Jonathan and I had so much work to do on our house, we would often start something, get tired of it and come back to it a month later. 2. It was interesting to me to realize that I understood what that felt like and to want to tell her, well then why don't you finish it if it frustrates you so much? I, now, have to do all of those tasks on my own. Single people are probably much more productive because they are not always relying on the other person to 'do' something.  I don't get frustrated anymore, because the only person I can get frustrated at is me.

I still hate November. Can we just skip this month? Can I just go to sleep Thanksgiving week and wake up when it is over?

These days are my recent memories...

It might be that it is now fall. It might be that my memories of Halloween last year are so vivid. My memories of October and November are my last memories with Jonathan. It's that time of year again and that might be why I have felt like crap.

It is cold and I want nothing more than to curl up with my husband on the couch. I just spent the last 30 minutes deleting and organizing old emails. Difficult, to say the least. It's great that I have those for memories, but hard to see them. Hard to realize he's gone. Hard to vividly remember what I was doing this time last year. How happy I was. How happy and excited we were. I just looked through a photo album I had put together. In it, I kept some newspaper clippings, anniversary cards, a large wedding photo, and I kept our pieces of paper where we were brainstorming names for our new business. I have the front and back of 4 pages of paper covered with ideas for names. I looked at each one for a moment and I remembered the discussion about every single one of those names...I remember Jonathan's face. His reaction. His love for the name Riffle Hounds Fly Fishing. I know he loves that logo Paul made.    

Most days I'm fine and then others are just like a ton of bricks fell on me like in a Looney Tunes cartoon.  I know Jonathan is gone, but I miss him so much. I miss his laugh. I miss his smile. I miss his sense of humor. I miss his ability to make me happy after I've had a rough day. I miss his hugs and his kisses. I miss everything about him.  I miss how much he did to make me happy. How when I got home today and I thought about how cold it was, and how much I didn't want to walk Drake, how Jonathan would have already done it. True love. He loved me so much and would have done anything for me. It makes me realize that if the roles were reversed, how much he would not be dealing with this.  I wonder if I will ever find someone again who will love me as much as he does.

As I get back out into the dating world, it's not that the people I've met aren't great.  I realize that I have not been able to fully open up. I feel like I have been able to open up a lot, but there's still this 'unknown' about how to talk about Jonathan. I have mentioned things here and there, but after that, there is no more conversation. When is it okay? When will the person I am seeing want to talk more about Jonathan?  The hardest part is that I want to talk about Jonathan. I want to tell everyone how awesome of a husband he was. How much I miss him and how much I still can't believe he is gone. It is now November 3rd (almost 4th), and the date is coming up. 20 days to be exact. I'm not sure what I am going to do or how I am going to handle this day or this week- November 24-November 30. It is still unbelievable that it will be a year soon.

As I picked up candy for Halloween at the wal-mart down the street. I remembered that a year ago that day, I waited in the car and Jonathan went inside the wal-mart. I texted him: Get a bag of candy.  I remember going out to thrift stores to find our costumes. I remember him dropping me off at home and then heading to the mall to find a pair of suspenders. He only needed them for the costume so we wrapped them up with the receipt around them, ready to return them. Now they will never be returned. They are a reminder of some of my last days with the love of my life.  I know I have said this about a million times, but I cannot believe he is gone.  I keep his fly tying room closed and am almost afraid to open it some days because I think he might just be standing there like, 'I have been here the whole time. I have just been in here tying flies for a year.'
This month sucks. I HATE November.