I wish you...

Over the past month, I have watched my life unfold from what I thought was a perfectly wrapped gift into an immense, heaping pile of a crumpled mess. How fitting that this happened during the holiday season when the focus is on gifts, beautifully wrapped and given to those most deserving in your life.

The last four weeks have been difficult. There are stages that one must travel through when you are dealing with such intense grief. The death of a marriage, especially when you are kept in the dark for over a year and taken by complete surprise, is devastating. When you pour your heart and soul into creating a marriage, a family, a life only to have it ripped out from under your feet is shocking. To be told by the one person that you thought you could trust that he had been emotionally and physically involved with someone else for over the past year is like having someone rip your heart out of your chest. To know that you had given your all to him only to have him give himself to someone else is an indescribable pain, especially when it happens more than once.

Everyone said that things do get easier with each passing day. The first two weeks, I couldn't imagine how any of this could become easier. Easy seemed so far out of my vocabulary. My world had been shattered. My life, unrecognizable. Each day was a struggle. I watched him walk away from his family, his responsibilities, from our marriage so that he could play and enjoy his newfound freedom with her. I had to push myself just to get out of bed and perform my daily functions. My life, although it seemed over, still went on. The world did not stop so that I could deal with my grief. My children needed me more than ever. The household still had to function. Life moved on and once again, my strength came through and allowed me to pick up the pieces that he left scattered on the floor.

Four weeks later, I still try to wrap my mind around this; however, I know deep in my heart that I will never be able to. I will never understand how you can intentionally hurt those that you declare to love so deeply in the fashion that it was done. Unimaginable. To be so deceitful, dishonest, and carry yourself in such a cowardly fashion is unexplainable. How difficult it must have been to live such a double lifestyle for so long. Once you weave such a tangled web of lies, it entraps you, allowing you to spin lie after lie until eventually you can’t keep up with them any longer.

Through this all, people have and will continue to form their own opinions, including your children. Just as each coin has two sides, so does each story. The evidence speaks for itself and it is very abundant. I know who I am, what I stand for, and that I am not to blame for your infidelities throughout the years. Those who you thought you could trust with your dirty little secrets have come out of the woodwork and exposed you for who you really are. The credibility, integrity, ethics, and morals become questionable when things are done out of pure deceit. Every day brings a new deception, more damning evidence and more lies that had been woven so tightly but are now becoming an unwoven mess that falls around you, trapping you inside and preventing your escape. From the inside, you continue to believe that the window into your soul is tinted, prohibiting those on the outside from seeing the real you and all that you have done. However, the window to your soul is clear, allowing everyone around you to take a glimpse inside, witnessing your troubled, broken soul. From the outside, it is painfully obvious.

And so, life moves on. A new beginning. A new chapter. It's still difficult. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't. The pain, sometimes so overwhelming, is still there. The disappointment increases with each day. The broken promises continue to increase as well. The fear of the unknown takes my breath away. For I must now find a new life, for the life I thought I had made was nothing but a farce. Everything I had hoped for, dreamed about, worked towards in hopes of creating a better life for my family is gone! The values that I thought were important to both of us were only important to one of us. I am saddened by the loss of what I thought we had and what I thought we stood for. However, with each passing day, I am discovering that all of those things were created on lies. When something is built on lies it has no other choice but to crumble.

Something built on truth, trust, morals, love and a solid foundation will flourish into something magnificent. I know that my magnificent is out there, waiting to be discovered. I will discover it. It may not be this year and it may not be next year but in time, I will find love again. True love. Love that is pure, healthy, and abundant. Love that is unconditional. I will find someone that not only extends their love to myself but most importantly, to my children. Someone who is willing to accept them unconditionally. I know that the wait will be worth it. Until then, I will guard the hearts of my children and myself for I know what is best for them. I, being the adult, know that the minds and hearts of my children are confused and broken. They are traveling a new road just as I. And while they may put a front on for you, they are hurting inside. They are afraid. They are filled with uncertainty. They walk this path with unsteady steps for fear that if they express disappointment, hurt, anger, or disagree with you, that you will leave them all together.

You have hurt them beyond anything you will ever comprehend. Allowing a new person into their lives less than two weeks after their family unraveled is selfish. For if this were “true love” then why the rush to bring her into their lives? You will find that they will grow to resent you for these actions. Your limited time with the children should be focused on them, not on creating a new instant family. She may have started “playing house” with my husband but she will NEVER take the place of me in the lives of my children. The children have one mother, period.

Try as you may, these children do see through your selfish ways. They do see where your loyalty lies. They see where your commitment is. They are much smarter than you give them credit for. You believe that the children are fine and have no issues with regards to creating this instant new family or your abandonment. This idea is far from the truth. I would encourage you to sit with them in a counseling session, read their journals, and research what you can on the various ways a divorce will impact a child. Or perhaps you are too afraid of what you may find out.

And so, I wish you luck. You will need it, as will she. As you both are enjoying your greener grass on the other side, keep in mind that what comes around, goes around. While you are off building your new life on lies, deceit, infidelity, lust and instability the children and I are building a much bigger, brighter, solid future without you.

I wish you...

Over the past month, I have watched my life unfold from what I thought was a perfectly wrapped gift into an immense, heaping pile of a crumpled mess. How fitting that this happened during the holiday season when the focus is on gifts, beautifully wrapped and given to those most deserving in your life.

The last four weeks have been difficult. There are stages that one must travel through when you are dealing with such intense grief. The death of a marriage, especially when you are kept in the dark for over a year and taken by complete surprise, is devastating. When you pour your heart and soul into creating a marriage, a family, a life only to have it ripped out from under your feet is shocking. To be told by the one person that you thought you could trust that he had been emotionally and physically involved with someone else for over the past year is like having someone rip your heart out of your chest. To know that you had given your all to him only to have him give himself to someone else is an indescribable pain, especially when it happens more than once.

Everyone said that things do get easier with each passing day. The first two weeks, I couldn't imagine how any of this could become easier. Easy seemed so far out of my vocabulary. My world had been shattered. My life, unrecognizable. Each day was a struggle. I watched him walk away from his family, his responsibilities, from our marriage so that he could play and enjoy his newfound freedom with her. I had to push myself just to get out of bed and perform my daily functions. My life, although it seemed over, still went on. The world did not stop so that I could deal with my grief. My children needed me more than ever. The household still had to function. Life moved on and once again, my strength came through and allowed me to pick up the pieces that he left scattered on the floor.

Four weeks later, I still try to wrap my mind around this; however, I know deep in my heart that I will never be able to. I will never understand how you can intentionally hurt those that you declare to love so deeply in the fashion that it was done. Unimaginable. To be so deceitful, dishonest, and carry yourself in such a cowardly fashion is unexplainable. How difficult it must have been to live such a double lifestyle for so long. Once you weave such a tangled web of lies, it entraps you, allowing you to spin lie after lie until eventually you can’t keep up with them any longer.

Through this all, people have and will continue to form their own opinions, including your children. Just as each coin has two sides, so does each story. The evidence speaks for itself and it is very abundant. I know who I am, what I stand for, and that I am not to blame for your infidelities throughout the years. Those who you thought you could trust with your dirty little secrets have come out of the woodwork and exposed you for who you really are. The credibility, integrity, ethics, and morals become questionable when things are done out of pure deceit. Every day brings a new deception, more damning evidence and more lies that had been woven so tightly but are now becoming an unwoven mess that falls around you, trapping you inside and preventing your escape. From the inside, you continue to believe that the window into your soul is tinted, prohibiting those on the outside from seeing the real you and all that you have done. However, the window to your soul is clear, allowing everyone around you to take a glimpse inside, witnessing your troubled, broken soul. From the outside, it is painfully obvious.

And so, life moves on. A new beginning. A new chapter. It's still difficult. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't. The pain, sometimes so overwhelming, is still there. The disappointment increases with each day. The broken promises continue to increase as well. The fear of the unknown takes my breath away. For I must now find a new life, for the life I thought I had made was nothing but a farce. Everything I had hoped for, dreamed about, worked towards in hopes of creating a better life for my family is gone! The values that I thought were important to both of us were only important to one of us. I am saddened by the loss of what I thought we had and what I thought we stood for. However, with each passing day, I am discovering that all of those things were created on lies. When something is built on lies it has no other choice but to crumble.

Something built on truth, trust, morals, love and a solid foundation will flourish into something magnificent. I know that my magnificent is out there, waiting to be discovered. I will discover it. It may not be this year and it may not be next year but in time, I will find love again. True love. Love that is pure, healthy, and abundant. Love that is unconditional. I will find someone that not only extends their love to myself but most importantly, to my children. Someone who is willing to accept them unconditionally. I know that the wait will be worth it. Until then, I will guard the hearts of my children and myself for I know what is best for them. I, being the adult, know that the minds and hearts of my children are confused and broken. They are traveling a new road just as I. And while they may put a front on for you, they are hurting inside. They are afraid. They are filled with uncertainty. They walk this path with unsteady steps for fear that if they express disappointment, hurt, anger, or disagree with you, that you will leave them all together.

You have hurt them beyond anything you will ever comprehend. Allowing a new person into their lives less than two weeks after their family unraveled is selfish. For if this were “true love” then why the rush to bring her into their lives? You will find that they will grow to resent you for these actions. Your limited time with the children should be focused on them, not on creating a new instant family. She may have started “playing house” with my husband but she will NEVER take the place of me in the lives of my children. The children have one mother, period.

Try as you may, these children do see through your selfish ways. They do see where your loyalty lies. They see where your commitment is. They are much smarter than you give them credit for. You believe that the children are fine and have no issues with regards to creating this instant new family or your abandonment. This idea is far from the truth. I would encourage you to sit with them in a counseling session, read their journals, and research what you can on the various ways a divorce will impact a child. Or perhaps you are too afraid of what you may find out.

And so, I wish you luck. You will need it, as will she. As you both are enjoying your greener grass on the other side, keep in mind that what comes around, goes around. While you are off building your new life on lies, deceit, infidelity, lust and instability the children and I are building a much bigger, brighter, solid future without you.

Up in Flames...

Have you ever stood by, watching something very important to you go up in flames? I mean, literally, go up in flames?

One of my biggest fears was that we would have a house fire and we would lose irreplaceable things from our childhood, photos, mementos, as well as each of those things that we have for our own children. Many of nights, I have often thought of how we can be sure we never lose any of these precious treasures. We all know that through the years, we lose certain events from our memory. While digging through an old box of goodies, you tend to run across something that reminds you of your previous years.

I don't have many things that are mine. You know, things that I have from my childhood, my teenage years, even my early adult years. Surely, I have plenty of things that are for the children. Tim has enough "memories" to fill a semi tractor trailer. However, myself, I would say that most of the treasures that I kept would easily fit into two or three small cardboard boxes, at most. I didn't keep many things through the years but the items I did keep, meant something to me. They marked an event in my life that I wanted to remember.

Today, while burining off a pile of brush and such, I spotted a box in the middle of the fire. As I took my stick to spread out the stack of smouldering stuff, my heart nearly stopped beating. There, in the middle of a raging fire, was one of my boxes of childhood treasures. My heart sank.

I tried pulling some of the things out, burning my fingertips. As I brought the things closer to me using the stick, I noticed that there were so many of my things that lay there buring. My grade school report cards, all of my mementos from each of my class trips with the band, things from my senior year, my graduation cards, bridal shower cards, wedding cards, and even well wishes for our first child. I had pages and pages of short stories, poems, journal entries, and so much more that lay before me just burning.

I felt my eyes sting as the tears began to well up inside of them. I knew that I needed to leave before I lost it entirely. There, before me, lay so many memories, physical reminders of the things I had accomplished, things I had to remember my childhood by, letters, poems, journal entries and things that really meant alot to me. There I stood, watching each of those moments burn up into nothing more than a pile of ash.

Angrily, I started shoving the things back into the fire, scattering them among the flames. I threw down my stick and began walking away. "I need a drink" was the only thing I could manage to speak. As I walked away, tears running down my face, I heard, "I'm sorry. I didn't know these were your things. I wouldn't have put them in there if I had."

How many times do YOU throw things into a fire or burn pile without making damn sure that they are not something of importance?

My heart is breaking tonight. I think it has shattered into a million little pieces.

The Grandpa I lost...and grandmother who I never had.

Please know that these are past-dated posts. I'm warning you. This post is painful to read at times. Read at your own desire.
-Becky



January 23, 2009
For several hours, I have tried to compile this post. I have it written out perfectly in my head; however, when I go to type it, my thoughts freeze and my fingers sit still.

The past thirty six hours, although painfully real, still seem much like a dream. My mind replays so many of the things from those hours. From the pounding of my heart with the initial call to the visions my eyes saw, to the words I was sure to speak, even if only to the body that once held his soul, will remain with me forever.

Through it all, I tried to separate myself from reality, as if I was simply peering in on someone else's grief. Although short-lived, it did help me "hold it together" for a while.

I'm not sure how many of us "knew" what the outcome would be this particular day. What I do know is that I felt it hours before it happened. Intuition, perhaps, but I just had this nagging feeling that wouldn't subside. Of course I didn't want to be right. The outcome for those left behind is painfully devistating.

I remember the initial call on Sunday morning. The pounding of my heart was so strong that I was certain it would beat right out of my chest. The urgency to get there was strong. And yet, once there, the spirit of what was a very ill man was soaring high. His strength astounded me. To know that he was struggling for each breath he took was enough to take my own breath away. I looked into his eyes, searching for that spark that was usually there. It was gone.

The diagnosis was Pneumonia. To a healthy individual, pneumonia can take it's toll. To an eighty year old with compromised lungs already, this was very serious. Much more serious than some may have initially thought.

I left that morning after he had been admitted to the hospital. He had been tucked into bed with the hopes that he would get some rest and allow his body to fight this infection.

Monday, Tim and I were able to go visit with him. Although confused at times, he was sure to keep his spirits high and us laughing as he told story after story. His color was better but the amount of oxygen he needed did not decrease. Again, we left the hospital knowing that his spirits were high but that he was still not out of the woods.

Tuesday came and I felt the urgency to make another trip to see him. This time, I went alone. I had some one on one time with him before more family came to visit. Our time together is time I will cherish forever. Soon my Mom, Aunt and Brother joined us to visit. The stories kept coming and the jokes continued to be cracked. There came a point that we even shut his door so the staff couldn't listen to these famous stories he told. I reminded him that he had someone who loved him very much and wanted to see him. The look on is face was as if my words melted the hardness he had built up over the situation away. Truly, it was almost a sense of peace.

Several times through the visit, he mentioned Heaven. I didn't recall ever hearing him speak of Heaven during my childhood visits. At one point, I told him that he needed to be sure to save us a spot up there in Heaven with him. He told us it would cost us $5 and a patch of grass. This was just another part of an ongoing joke he had been telling us.

It wasn't the fact that he spoke of heaven often or that his mind drifted from the present to the past and once again to the present, that spoke volumes to me. It was the words he spoke at the end of our visit that made my intuition kick in a little stronger than it was before. The simple words he spoke as he looked directly into my eyes with his hands firmly planted on each of my upper arms. "I love you, too." In all my years, I have never heard him say those words to me. Rather, he would use the simple phrase, "You be good" when parting ways. To hear him say "I love you, too" gave me a feeling that is simply indescribable.

I remember pulling out of the parking lot and thinking to myself, "maybe you should go visit a while longer." Afterall, I really didn't need to leave. I could have spent more time there soaking up his wisdom, his stories, his humor. I had the urge to turn around but convinced myself that he needed his rest. He looked tired when we left and I had already been there a couple of hours. And so, I came home.

Wednesday I called my mom to get an update. He had been released. I still can't fathom who would have released him considering his status. Even so, he was released and was headed home. Around 8:30 PM, I received another update that he wasn't feeling well and was having trouble again. I'm not sure why he wasn't taken back in to the hospital right then but that's besides the point. Mom and I discussed our feelings of what we felt would happen. That night, I needed a break. I took a drive to the store and on my way there, the clock caught my eye at 10:16. Not that this time was of any great significance but it obviously stuck. I had told Tim earlier that the past couple days, 10:13 had stuck in my mind. I couldn't place either number at all but they kept coming to mind. When I drove home, I spent some time praying as well as talking (as if Grandpa was able to hear me).

Thursday, after getting the kids ready for school, I fell back asleep. I vividly remember waking up, as if someone intentionally woke me. I jumped up to see that it was 10:00 AM and Jonathon as well as Tim were gone. I called the Fire Station and found Tim. Jonathon had gone upstairs to play and fell asleep up there. Tim had taken both sets of keys so I was unable to go meet him so he agreed to finish up and come pick me up for breakfast. Very soon after I hung up, I received the call from my Mom that CPR was in progress. The time she received the call from my Grandma, 10:16 AM.

I took a friends car and started towards my grandparents house. I vividly remember saying, "Hold on, Grandpa. Hold on. But if you have to go, we understand." Tim met me at their house shortly after.

I pulled along the side of the road, trying not to run up the driveway where the ambulance was parked. My Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin all stood in the garage. I quickly handed off my phone so my Aunt could inform my mom and I headed inside. I met my Grandma at the dining room table. I stopped, making sure to give her a hug and support. She told me they were breathing for him and that she couldn't lose him. I told her I'd go see if there was anything I could help with.

I walked down the hallway, peered into the bathroom and there on the floor, he laid. So still, his color gone. They continued pushing meds, getting him packaged up to go to the hospital and breathing for him. I was sure to call out to him, letting him know that we were there. They say their hearing is the last thing to leave them. I wanted him to know that he wasn't alone!

Tim ran for the cot while the rescuers continued their jobs. I remember watching his pulse being checked before they loaded him on the cot. Once loaded, they came down the hall and through the dining room. His color looked different than before. I remember it vividly. Down the steps, out the door and through the snow they went. I grabbed his hand as we headed to the ambulance and told him we were there. His hands were still warm. I let go so I could get the doors open to the ambulance. Tim and I were at his feet when we loaded him. They were white. Tim directed the ambulance out into the street where they pulled away, headed to the hospital.

I walked away, my heart sank. I remember telling Tim, "He's gone." I had no doubts that we would get to the hospital only to be directed into a private waiting area to be told that very thing. I hoped to be proven wrong but that gut instinct that I have learned to trust over the years had kicked in full force.

The drive to the hospital seemed so long. I was quiet as I sat there holding the hand of my own spouse. I can't imagine the pain you feel when you are told your spouse is gone. Once at the hospital, we valet parked. We went to the ER where they directed us to Trauma Family Waiting Area. We met a cousin and my grandma there. Grandma went to the bathroom and my cousin asked if we were about to get bad news. I shook my head yes. She said, "really bad news?" Again, I shook my head yes and said I was pretty certain. Moments later, a doctor as well as a nurse met us. They were looking for Grandma and the family. She returned and we were directed to another, more private room. After an explanation of what had happened prior to calling the ambulance from Grandma, the doctor continued. He explained, in detail, the events from the time the ambulance arrived at the house to what the hospital did after arrival. After what seemed like a three to five minute time line ending with, "...we were unable to get his heart started again." The room grew silent. In a quiet voice, my Grandma asked, "Is he gone?" "Yes, I'm sorry. He is gone." Sobbing filled the room. I remember looking up, seeing my Mom, Aunts and Uncle who appeared in the doorway, missing the doctors words by sheer seconds. All I could do was shake my head "No" as if to tell them that he was gone.

I thought my heart was going to explode. Watching the family being washed over with such incredible sadness was more than I thought I could bear. And yet, I didn't find myself crying like the rest of them. Surely I wasn't insensitive. So why wasn't I crying as everyone else was? Was it because I had tried to separate myself earlier as if it wasn't my reality in hopes to avoid the pain that would eventually wash over me? I'm pretty sure that was the reason.

After regaining some composure, we were directed back to see and spend time with Grandpa. Some went in groups and some went alone. I did both. Again, I had the chance to have a brief minute alone with Grandpa. A man who was once so full of life, stories, wisdom and love now lay there motionless. His shell remained while his spirit soared above us.

After a few hours, we decided to come home. My cousin and I were the last to go in and say our goodbyes. I walked out of that room, glancing one more time before shutting the door behind me. This was real. Painfully real.

Once home, I showered and headed out for a quick visit at Grandpa's house before going to class. As I pulled out of my driveway, I felt relief. I finally had a few moments alone to let my guard down. I could cry if I wanted to. Instead, I turned the radio on. The first words I heard were, "I saw God today." If you're familiar with country music, you'll be familiar with that song.

After stopping in at Grandpa's house for a few minutes, I came out to the truck to leave for class. My drivers side window had been partially rolled down. Now I *know* I didn't do it. I hate my window rolled down. Besides, it's freezing cold here right now. And considering it's not a power window, I would have remembered rolling it down! Was it a sign from Grandpa?

This morning, Friday, was Jonathon's 3rd birthday. He and I went to the store to get his birthday donuts. Again, I turned the radio on in the truck and was greeted with the song, "You can let go" by Crystal Shawanda. If you're not familiar with this song, google it and listen to it. Instantly, tears filled my eyes. I tried to sing along with it but as you can imagine, it was pretty impossible. I came home and called my mom to let her know that I thought this would be a good song to have played at the memorial service. Tonight, I went and purchased it.

............

It has been almost two weeks since Grandpa passed away. Some days are harder than others. My thoughts are filled with him several times through each day. I try to remember that he wouldn't want us to be sad but sadness still fills my heart. I try to keep my anger in check as he did so well, but I'm afraid I am failing at that too.

As with most deaths, family drama soon follows. Our family is no exception. Although most of us are well aware of what Grandpa would have wanted to happen after his passing, a select few have decided otherwise. I suppose that's what happens when you let greed control you. My heart is at peace. It would have been nice to see his own children receive something....anything of his....but knowing that those who are the driving force behind the greed will get what is coming to them brings me peace.

Unlike you, Grandpa knew what true love was. He knew what family was. And much to your disgust, he truly loved each and every single one of his children. He loved every single one of his grandchildren and every single one of his great grandchildren. We mourn the loss of a loving, genuine kind-hearted, full-spirited, hard working, amazing father, grandfather and great-grandfather.

If for some reason you stumble upon this...and you will know who you are...
Your favoritism is so plainly obvious. It always has been. You constantly shove your favoritism into everyone else's face as if you're intentionally trying to intensify the pain you already inflict upon us all. For years, you have acted like you had only two grandchildren. It has always been about those two. Every grandchild you DO have sees it. Every great-grandchild you DO have sees it. Your own children see it. And yet, you just don't care. Just know that someday, you will need someone. Unfortunately for you, everyone that would have been there to lend a hand has been pushed away over the years. You severed those ties long ago and any hope that there was of repairing that thread was severed with Grandpa's death. You pushed those of us who reached out to you away because all you wanted was your favorite! You won't receive sympathy from me. You don't deserve it. You're selfish, greedy and cruel. I see right through the distraught widow front you put on. If you truly gave a damn, you would have made sure you were at that hospital every single day spending time with the man you proclaimed to love. You would have found a way to get there. Instead, you chose to sit home and lose those last few days that you could have had with him. Assess your priorities. What kept you home instead of by his bedside, holding his hand? Who was more important to you? Surely, it wasn't your husband of 57 years who was struggling with every breath he took. I sure hope it was worth it. The final hours you were given together, you chose to let your true colors shine through. I hope every night you lay your head down that you remember just how cruel, selfish, and insensitive you were those final days, hours and minutes of Grandpa's life. Then take time to think back to how you have been that way to nearly every single person in your life, except the select few who portray the same traits as you do! To know that within a matter of hours, you had already started giving your "favorites" material items while denying your own children an opportunity to have their father's things shows just how much of a heartless, self centered, greedy bitch you really are. You and your sidekick went as far as to make sure that the song the daughters and grandchildren wanted played at the service was not played. Why? Because "she" couldn't "handle it" and if we "thought we were going to play that song" she would "get up and walk out." How ironic that you say you know nothing about this song or why it wasn't played yet we overheard the two of you discussing it at the kitchen table a few days prior. We heard her complaining about the music and what was being chosen. The sad thing is that song wasn't about either one of you! And then to flat out lie about it when questioned why it wasn't played...why?

For the rest of us, we will mourn an honest, loving, genuine man who instilled his qualities into us. I couldn't think of a better example to learn from. It's a shame that you didn't pick up on some of those traits over the years. An even bigger shame is that you have chosen to push away almost every single grandchild and great grandchild that you were blessed with. What amazing memories you have missed out on. Too bad you chose not to see that.

Where are the words?

I know they are there. I hear them, screaming inside of my head. I feel them, lingering on the tip of my tongue. And yet, my lips remain frozen.

Perhaps it's a good thing that my voice is gone. For if it wasn't, I fear that the words that would escape my mouth would create great havoc.

I am hurting. Grieving. Saddened and upset. I am angry, no...furious, with the actions of some and intentions of others.

I'll never understand the reasons behind the actions. I'll never comphrend how you can proclaim great love when your actions don't show it. And I'll never understand why the intentions must be only for your personal gain.

I've always struggled with the thought that I wasn't "good enough" through the years. As a daughter, a grand-daughter, a mother and a wife. I've been able to let go of some of those emotions over time but there are those that still remain.

I can't tell you the incredible amount of willpower and self control I had to force upon myself today. It goes hand in hand with the amount of heartbreak I felt.

I understand that the grieving process is different for every person. The fact remains; however, that we all grieve. Some more openly than others. Some seek more attention than comfort in their time of need. And yet, some put on a hell of a show for those who happen to be watching.

I will continue to pray. I know my thoughts are heard, my struggles are being handled and my heart will begin to heal.

I just hope I can hold my tongue long enough to let that all happen.

I have a very lengthy post about our loss but haven't had the time to get it posted in a politically correct way. I'll work on that.

A Hard Goodbye

May you find peace in Heaven, Grandpa.

We love you.

Grandpa passed away. Please keep us in your prayers.

Time passes on...

I'm sorry! I have been completely overwhelmed. My lack of posting may have clued you in though.

Since the beginning of 2009, things have been so out of the norm. We started the year off with the death of our retired Fire Chief on New Years Day. Not only was he the Fire Chief when Tim started the department but he was also my Aunt's father-in-law. At that same time, we found out that our current fire chief has been diagnosed with stage 4 lung and aortic valve cancer. This is inoperable. It came as a huge shock to everyone and the news still has many reeling.

I had my midterm for my EMT class and scored in the top of the class. I believe I was second or third. That certainly was a welcomed grade. While I was doing that, Tim was attending Chief Wilson's service with the fire department.

I started classes up again at the college. I have three this term, not including my EMT class. So far, we're doing well.

This past weekend I was hoping for a relaxing weekend. That didn't happen. Friday was a horrible disappointment as anger and rage filled the space inside our home. Saturday I was "abducted" by a dear friend just so I could get out and away from the chaos here. We purchased the fabric to finish one of the sofas that we're making. (Photos will come soon). We had breakfast and lunch together and came home to put our purchases together. We finished the night watching a movie with some friends.

Somewhere around 1:20 AM Sunday morning, I heard the tones go off for my grandfather. After phone calls to my mom (who was sleeping really hard), A friend drove me to my grandparents. I had just missed the ambulance so I caught a ride up to the hospital with my Aunt, Uncle and Grandma. We stayed with him until morning when he was admitted for pneumonia. He's 80 and has compromised lung capacity already. Please pray for him. It's been a very rough few days.

On our way home from the hospital, we witnessed a lady lose control and roll her vehicle several times in front of us. Being first on scene (and to witness it), I felt that EMT pull. I called it in, approached the vehicle which was still up on it's drivers side and the driver started crawling out of the passenger window. In the end, she ended up being okay but surely must have been quite shook up. I can only imagine that she felt sore the next day. I'm just thankful that she was okay.

I came home and spent the morning/afternoon getting some sleep before just relaxing on Sunday night. Thankfully the kids didn't have school on Monday.

Tim and I have been to visit Grandpa. I went up today and was able to sit and talk with him by myself for a good hour. I'll cherish that time together.

He seems to be in good spirits but is certainly not fully "with us" in his thoughts. He has been moved to a room that is across from the nurses station so they can watch him a bit closer. He likes to remove his oxygen!

Just a side note, if you have a desire to have a DNR, PLEASE make sure it is a valid DNR and that your family, physician and the hospital you use has a copy of that. I'm not sure what your particular state requires; however, it is a requirement that as EMS workers MUST do everything that they can unless they have a VALID DNR order in their hands. Most times, the DNR order must be signed by yourself, your physician, one or two witnesses, and a lawyer. Different states may require something different. Just make sure your wishes are honored. Speak with your family about them and be sure they always know where that DNR order is in the event that it is needed. I only say this because what was thought to be a valid DNR order for my Grandfather has been found to be INvalid!

One thing that gave me comfort today was getting to spend some one on one time with Grandpa. He has always been a hard working, loving man, in my eyes. It is hard to see him laying there, much thinner than he has in the past and working hard to just breathe. One thing he doesn't do is to verbally say "I love you". In all my years, I have never heard him say that. I have only heard him say "You be good now." Today when I bent down, gave him a kiss and told him I loved him, he looked right at me, his hands on each of my arms and said, "I love you too!"

Keep fighting, Grandpa. Remember though, if you get up to Heaven, you need to save a spot for me! I'll bring the $5.00, you bring the patch of grass.

I'm off to do some homework. Thanks for thinking of me. I hope to be posting on a regular basis now that life is somewhat "normal" now.

Hugs,
Becky

Released...

I can't believe it's Sunday already! Things here have gone well this weekend. Saturday was filled with the services, two football games and concluded by spending the evening around the fire with great friends. We had a good evening which helped us unwind after a rough day.

I'll share with you the first family photo we've ever had taken of all seven of us. This was taken by a friend before the funeral.



And in color:


I couldn't think of a better day to have laid someone to rest. The weather was warm and sunny. The winds were calm. The only unfortunate events, besides the fact that we lost a loved one, was that the mosquitos were very hungry in the cemetary. Well, and the fact that the neighbor was giving grandma a 21 gun salute having target practice next door. We concluded the graveside service by releasing a white dove. I've never seen this done before. It was a beautiful ending to honor a life on this side of Heaven ending and Grandma's life in Heaven beginning.

I hope you had a great weekend! We will catch up with you guys this week.
Blessings,
Becky

Rest in Peace, Grandma!

This morning, my Great Grandma was found after passing away in her sleep during the night. Please keep us all in your thoughts this week.

Rest in Peace, Grandma. I'm sure you have met up with Great Grandpa



as well as your children and grandchildren and are having a wonderful reunion.




Until we meet again,
-Becky

How do you say...

Tim had been working all day and I had been on the road all day. We finally met up in town at the boys' football practices. Wearing our typical street clothes, we headed downtown. At one point, Tim asked if I thought we should go "dressed like this?" I looked at him and asked, "What do you think she would want?" Knowing we didn't have time to make it home, change and back in time, we wore what we had on.

This afternoon, family and friends gathered to mourn the loss of a special person and celebrate the life she lived. Tim and I were able to make it there for the last hour of the gathering. Hesitant, we walked up the sidewalk, hand in hand. Are there ever any right words to say? Do you really know how they feel? So many people don't know what to say or are afraid of saying the wrong thing so they say nothing at all. There's something about visitations that brings out the hesitation in people, us included.

As we walked, each step seemingly to take minutes, my mind wandered. As I held the hand of my husband, my heart ached at the thought of those who would give anything for one more touch of her hands. One more glance, one more word, one more kiss, one more hug. I looked at all the people, each connected to her in one way or another. Each person came to pay respect to not only Pam but to her husband, her children, and each of her other family members. As my eyes darted from group to group, all I could think was, "What an honor." What an honor to have made an impression, big or small, in the lives of so many.

How do you say Goodbye to someone who lives deep in the lives of so many?

My best answer tonight is, you don't. Until you meet again, watch those she's deeply rooted in. The lives of her husband, her children, her grandchildren. Watch closely and you will see her laughter, her looks, her mannerisms, and her love.

Our thoughts continue to be with each of you.

With a heavy heart...

I thank you for the thoughts and prayers I asked for a few days ago; however, with a heavy heart, I share with you that Pam passed away a few hours later. If you're from the area, I encourage you to send your well wishes to the family here. Perhaps a few kind words from those who knew Pam and/or the family will give them a little bit of extra strength as they endure the painful days ahead.

Our continued thoughts and prayers remain with her entire family.