I hate you, September

I felt the weight of this month bearing down on me today. It's amazing to me how in one minute you can be happy and carefree and then just a few minutes later some little trigger can have you transported back 6 (holy crap!) years and reliving every detail. Do any of you do this? I have this automatic video-reel type experience where I relive it all over again. The day I found out. The day he came home. The memorial services. The funeral. It seems-- it was-- so long ago, but very quickly it can seem like yesterday. And we just keep walking forward through these days. Head on through what we know is coming. We just keep walking because it doesn't get worse. It gets rough, but it doesn't get worse than those days.  

Do you know how incredibly guilty I feel when I get stuck down the rabbit hole? Being stuck reliving those days takes so much energy. That's energy I should be giving to my beautiful baby boy. I'm so very blessed to have what I have when I never thought I'd get there. To be able to live the life I dreamed of, just a regular life, is such a privilege. I don't know how to convey my true gratitude for it. So September is a balancing act that I have yet to master.  P

Thankful.

This week I experienced a day that ended with me feeling nothing but entirely thankful for the blessings I have in my life.  It wasn't much different from an ordinary day, but the small things that happened filled my heart with love. 

I received a gift from a friend that I put on as soon as I opened the package, sitting in my car in front of the clubhouse where I had to pick the package up. Sometimes I forget how much something little can make someone feel special and I was so grateful that she took the time to think of me and remind me I'm loved.

While I was at work later in the day, I heard a song on the radio I haven't heard in so long.  Faithfully isn't a song the mix station we listen to ever plays.  I choose to think it was him.  It came on at a time when I was working the desk by myself, so I was able to truly enjoy it without having to explain to anyone why I was teary-eyed.  I smiled and thanked him.  He has to know how much I needed to hear from him.  I laughed because following that song is one of the songs I hate the most right now, "If I die young."  One of my girlfriends chalked it up to the radio's sense of humor. It just all felt very good, very familiar, and filled my heart to the brim with love.

That night after work I headed to a yoga class. I am always drained after work, but I know that going makes me feel amazing so I try to shove the tired to the side and go anyway. I am so glad I did.  The class was packed! I mean only-a-few-inches-from-your-neighbor, we-all-kept-scooting-to-make-more-room packed.  But the class- the best! The music mix that accompanied us was a mix of iron and wine, mumford and sons, florence and the machine, and other fantastic artists.  We did a lot of chest openers, which is exactly what you need after a day sitting at a desk. And I left feeling euphoric.

Talking with my husband after my day, I couldn't stop jabbering about how all these amazing things happened to me and that I felt like more great things were on their way. I am so, very blessed in all area of my life that it's funny how I don't always recognize it.  

Thank goodness for amazing days like this. 

Remember.

photo from here

I'd like to think I do a post about this every year, but at the very least I can remember doing one on the memorial day after Mike was killed. What's the meaning? Where did it come from? My history-buff and West Point educated husband is probably a wealth of information on exactly where it comes from, but I don't know quite as much. I had read it was originally Decoration Day and is a day to remember those who have died in service to our nation. I've been reading up the last few days and if you're interested, feel free to click on any of the collection of links below. 


USMemorialDay.org told me: To help re-educate and remind Americans of the true meaning of Memorial Day, the "National Moment of Remembrance" resolution was passed on Dec 2000 which asks that at 3 p.m. local time, for all Americans "To voluntarily and informally observe in their own way a Moment of remembrance and respect, pausing from whatever they are doing for a moment of silence or listening to Taps." (p.s. How hard is it to listen to Taps!?!)


Written during World War I, In Flander's Field  is a poem often referenced on Memorial Day. 


What's going on this Memorial Day 2012 in DC?


* My thoughts and prayers are with the many, many women I know who have personally felt the meaning of Memorial Day in the loss of their spouse. As always, I am so thankful that there is an organization out there to connect us all--the American Widow Project!

Stacey, full speed ahead.

I lost my ability to gauge the conversation today. You know what I mean? Someone at work started talking about rank, so I was talking about Nick and his rank, etc. For those of you in this situation, do you do this? I truly have no problem talking about Mike and who he was and things that happened. Sometimes, I think, to a fault. I went full speed ahead in this story, switching from Nick to Mike and back. Then the person I was talking to asked one simple question, "Do you mind if I ask, did you get a folded flag?" Broke my filter WIDE OPEN and I kept talking and talking about the flag, and how his parents got a flag, and where he was buried, and why, and the funeral, etc. At one point my co-worker said, "Um I don't want to really talk about this." followed by a casual, awkward "ha. ha." Snapped me back, a little too late.

I kinda feel bad if I made that person uncomfortable. I am always willing to tell people who don't know about what happens, what happens. It changes opinions and perspectives. However, I may have been a bit too willing.

Working on trying to keep myself in check the rest of the day!

My Husband Takes a Turn

Nick recently had some training that hit a little close to home for us. We talked a lot during those two days and tried to keep each other in a "now" state of mind. I asked him if he would be open to writing a blog post for you all, just about his training and how he felt. I think it might be interesting to hear from his point of view.  Below is his post, enjoy!

            The Army sucks at establishing priorities!  I am preparing to take command of a troop of soldiers and so the Army requires me to take a myriad of classes in preparation.  There are tidbits of great information, some good and a lot of repeated, convoluted and useless information.  This week I was sent to the casualty notification (CNO) and casualty assistance officer (CAO) course.  This is a two day course that covers, as the name implies, how to notify the families of casualties of the death of their loved one, and how to assist the family with all the important tasks in the months thereafter.  We were sent so that as commanders we would understand the process and also it is our unit’s turn for this very solemn duty.

            I was deployed with Stacey’s previous fiancé.  In fact, I served under Mike while he was an executive officer and acting commanding officer for about a month.  I knew Mike, but not well.  I wouldn’t even say I had the privilege of calling him a friend.  I remember the night that Mike was killed.  I was filling out a report on a computer in the troop command post.  The computer was in the same room where we monitored the radios.  All of a sudden someone called in a contact report (which means they had come under attack).  As the details unfolded we realized Mike had been very close to the explosion and was seriously injured.  I ran out to get the other three platoon leaders, the guys who could call Mike a friend, and told them that he had been hit.  I remember looking up at the stars that night and thinking of Mike’s fiancé and how this would change her life.  Mike was battling for his life at that moment, but I knew either way that across the world Stacey would either be receiving a call or a car would be pulling up to her door with the terrible news.  The next day a car pulled up to Stacey’s door.

            As I sat in class this past Wednesday it was very different than the other classes I have taken.  This one was personal, and it was difficult.  Everything we spoke about brought thoughts of this difficult time in my wife’s life.  Stacey and I texted back and forth during our breaks, as we often do, and she reminded me that she is happy now and everything is ok.  That helped.  During our texts I got the idea that maybe Stacey could come in and share her story, and from her experience what helped her and what the Army did that she did not like.  Like most things in the Army, training is very structured and usually with a lot of PowerPoint slides.  As I said at the beginning, we also go through a lot of classes.  So it is very easy for soldiers to just want to check the block on training and move on to the next item on their list.  This training was too important!  I remember a widow friend of Stacey’s who we got to spend some time with, Jayme.  Jayme had an awful experience with her CAO.  Her experience was so bad that she has done graduate work on how the Army trains our CNOs and CAOs.  I thought that this was an opportunity to show at least my class of twenty-five soldiers that these are real people and that if we have to perform this duty we are changing their lives forever.

            Stacey agreed and we scheduled a time for her to come in the next morning.  She did an awesome job!  I am so proud to have her as my wife.  I took away a great deal from this course.  I learned about the process and through reflection and conversation with Stacey I learned about the non-tangible aspects of the process, the emotions involved, what goes through the head of someone hearing the terrible news, the things that are difficult to put on a PowerPoint slide.  I believe that Stacey was able to pass some of that on to the other soldiers in my class and it is my hope that if they are called to do this duty they will be able to do it with the reverence and honor that is required.  Our unit’s roster has been turned in to do our duty.  I hope I don’t receive a call to do it, but if I do I will be ready.  

Here you Me.

I got home from class tonight and I have that distantly familiar feeling in my eyes again. The tired, drowsy, heavy feeling of a night drive home in a cloud of tears.

I don't even know where it came from except that I'm mentally and emotionally exhausted in a way I haven't been before. I'm caught in a world of balancing- no highs, no lows, no extremes- just trying to keep everything in check. I spend my time in my classes loving what I'm learning and wanting to spend all hours of the day doing that. I come home and remember that now that I am a full-time student I must also keep things around here in order, which seems completely normal to most, but I am a slob. Plain and simple. So keeping things in order takes work for me. I'm helping to plan a wedding that is taking me off in to left field, costing too much, but will be no less than breathtaking. An amazing one night that we spend 6 months coordinating. All I wanted to do was get married and now I remember why I wanted that, but was not anywhere near ready to plan a wedding. I quit my job and still somehow can't come up with a schedule to get everything done.

~ ~ ~ ~

"You're the heaviest weight, when you're not here, that's hung around my neck." -DMB

But it will come through at some point, no matter how much I pile on top of it. I miss him. There are things about him that I will always, always miss. I feel so heavy right now. Naturally I'm drawn to remembering his gift of being optimistically carefree. I could melt right into that with the confidence that nothing bad could ever happen if we were together, my footsteps in his, tumbling through this world together.

~ ~ ~ ~

"What would you think of me now? So lucky. So strong. So proud. I never said thank you for that. No I'll never have the chance." -Jimmy Eat World

Also on my drive I reflected on where I am now. It started because I was thinking that all I wanted was to be in my little condo bathroom with the yellowish light sitting on the floor in a ball with the warm shower running, steam filling the room, me letting it all out. That led to our house now, and really every time I think of our house now I immediately think of how much love I have for it. That somehow led to a string of thoughts on my hardheadedness and my pride in everything I've been through. Even though it may seem strange to those on the other side, it's like showing off my scars because I lived through it. I had no hope of coming up on the other side of this, and I have, and what it's given me I will share.

~ ~ ~ ~

A night I'm feeling quite weighted down. I am so happy with where I am in life, but losing my independence and gaining another half causes some moments of great introspection. But I am thankful for a loving pup, respectful fiancé, and true friends :)

It's all I can think about now.

Got home tonight and feel like I'm walking around with no purpose except not sitting down for too long. Maybe it's better described as when you have 10x too much caffeine in your body and you sit down, stand up, walk around, and all you want to do are the things you can't sit still long enough to do. I just want to scream- DONT YOU KNOW WHATS COMING?!?!

How can you not acknowledge it every time you talk to me this month?

How can you not read my mind and know when things slow down thats where I end up. That day, over and over and over and over in my mind.

How can you try to plan things for that weekend? Like I can do things that weekend.

What am I supposed to do?! Just tell me what I'm supposed to do.

I just want to scream anything. and everything. and all the time. The screams are running through my blood, making me antsy and anxious. Making me think, and not think. Making me want to cry and not be able to cry. Making me mad. Just plain mad at anything that I can be mad at.

I do not want to do this week again. ever. and it keeps coming back.

Army 10-miler 2010 vs 2011

Last year I set the goal to run the Army 10-Miler with Mike's sister, Amanda. She's had about 5 ACL surgeries and I've never run further than 200 meters so it was a lofty goal but in the spirit of doing things we've never done and honoring Mike's life in a way he would love, we saddled up. I took training seriously as 10 miles is a freaking lot. I started running 1-2 miles in April and it was so difficult for me, but once I got into it, I gradually increased to 4, 5 and even 8 miles before we actually did the race. The last 2 miles of the race were very difficult and all I kept thinking was "Just. Keep. Going." And we finished and I thought- never again will I do this. On the plane ride home I looked at Amanda and thought, ya we could do this again next year. And here we are.

Except this year is much different. I'm in NC but beside that I'm finding every excuse in the world not to run. I've been doing about 2/3 miles every couple days. I'm so worried the 10 miles will kick my butt so hard! The race is in October and tomorrow is the first day of September. Ummm train for a month?! Not exactly the plan. Nick's doing it this year with me, and a bunch of other friends are running. I need to get my butt in gear.

When you're not motivated to complete a goal that you've set, either physical or otherwise, how do you get yourself going?

(see how I'm blogging and NOT running...)

Knowing me, I thought about it too much.

"One of my great comforts since Liz's death had been talking about her- I was afraid that if her name went unmentioned or the stories went untold, our memories of her would forever disappear, and so would she." -Matthew Logelin, Two Kisses for Maddy

I somewhat freely talk about my relationship with Nick on here and I have a need today to explore some thoughts. I am about to finish Two Kisses for Maddy and there have been a couple spots where things have jumped out at me. Today it's the quote above, because of recent discussions Nick and I have had. After some poorly thought out statements and hurt feelings on both sides we sunk to the bottom of it all and uncovered the real issue were struggling with.

I talk about Mike often, and in a way, at inappropriate moments. It's not even always about Mike, but rather about making mention of losing my fiance' in Iraq in 2008.

I have grown accustomed to talking about his loss, as since day one I tried out new verbiage (ie: I am engaged but he was killed in Iraq; I was engaged but he lost his life in Iraq; No we weren't married; prefacing the story with a big long sigh and sad face; He passed; he's dead; he was killed; I'm a widow; I'm kind of a widow, etc.) often enough to know what type of reaction I would most likely receive. I do sometimes throw it out at inappropriate moments. Since the beginning my thought on this has been that yes, when I do this it may really impact that person and they may have a few awkward, rough, sad moments. I have had more than a few. In some way it is me shoving some of my pain in their direction. That's not the right thing to do. I also think it will make some people realize what they have, and frankly I'm ok with that. My other feeling is that I am damn proud of where I am right now. If you would have told me that I would be here in my life, having accomplished everything I have, having made several of the most amazing friends I could have, and knowing things that someone my age often does not yet know, I would have threw your words into the metaphysical trash can. So when people take a minute to get over the shock I smile at them, and I hope they realize that YES it was a traumatic event that I deal with every day, but I'm ok. And I'm proud of that.

Also, like the quote above, I have this responsibly to make sure no one ever forgets him and what he has done, even before he was killed. You can tell me it's not my responsibly but I won't believe you. So mentioning him, recounting stories, or the opportunity to bring up what I've been through assures in some small way that he's still a part of this world.

As I understand it, Nick's thoughts are different. He know's I will throw it out there are moments that people wouldn't expect that to be the case. He is prepared for it and has dealt with it on more than one occasion. As he was able to explain to me though, he feels like once I "drop the bomb" it's a conversation stopper. Not only does everyone feel awkward, but they will no longer inquire about me personally, or about us as a couple. He, in his most endearing way, told me that I am so much more than what has happened to me and he want's people to be able to see that. I've started my own business, I've gone back to grad school, I've made many new friends, I've become a runner and now am starting another very difficult workout, I've raised a pup from puphood to be a fully-adjusted functioning member of dog society (ok, I added that one.) But no one will get to know all those things about me, or be able to experience Nick and I as just Nick and I, a couple who met through some friends, when I explain part of our crazy story so early on.

I get what he's saying and I know his concerns are right on target but there are things about the way I handle the situation that he will never fully understand. I know it's different for me now because I am trying to make new friends in a new place and I haven't done that much outside the widowed world since losing Mike so sometimes I do talk about it when I should have waited. We've been able to discuss this continually and both adjust a little what we are thinking, as least enough to remember where the other person is coming from when it may happen. Luckily, we're both extremely aware of our craziness and are willing to adjust them for each other at times as necessary.

Let's just be honest here.

I've had some tension building up. Let's just see if we can get to the bottom of this, shall we?

I've had heartburn for about 2 weeks off and on. The last 3 days have been absolute murder. When I eat I have a hard time swallowing. My headaches, the ones that I thought we figured out were from my clenched jaw through the 8ish hours I sleep a night, are back. Still wearing the night guard so I know it isn't the jaw. At the end of the day I'm pretty sure Nick is tired of trying to figure out how to cure my headaches and lack of sleep due to the heartburn. He's getting a little fed up. Well sure I could go to the doctor but that leads me to another small issues... in order for me to continue my current health insurance I will now be paying somewhere around $486 a month. Um yea, that's not going to happen. So I'm on the search for health insurance. We will see in 7-10 days if I have a new plan.

Mike's annual golf tournament is June 11. It's a great time to catch up with a lot of his friends that are spread throughout the country. Although I've moved and hardly helped coordinate anything this year, I was absolutely planning to be there. How would I not? I was caught off guard to get an email about the tournament when I hadn't talked to anyone about the preliminary stuff, but I know that his friends enjoy planning a lot of that so I don't need to step in. I moved, so I guess it's harder for me to help much anyway. Did I mention my younger brother graduates from college in Cincinnati on June 11? Oh ya, that's happening. My little brother, who single-handedly kept me alive some of those bad days after losing Mike, is graduating from college. He sat through my graduation in 2006, but that's kind of irrelevant, because I would feel absolutely horrible if I wasn't there for him. That aside, my mom would pretty much disown me if I didn't go. I've already had enough crazy parent stuff, I'm not trying to throw more pain on that one. I've been avoiding this overlapping schedule. Just avoiding dealing with it. I think it's a big source of anxiety for me. And I think I'm straight up upset that I care that people will be wondering where I am. I hate that I will be at Matt's graduation thinking about the golf outing. I just hate the whole thing.

I have a lot of weddings this summer, much like last summer. That's exciting. Since most of my weddings are not in NC I have to take the whole weekend off of my new job to attend. I don't mind but I hate the idea of asking for time off. I've always felt nervous and guilty when I take time off of work, no matter how important the job actually is. It makes me feel horrible, like I'm inconveniencing my boss and the other people who work with me, since there aren't that many. But I have to be at my friend's weddings.

Nick is deathly afraid of being "lame" as we get older. I am deathly afraid of being the one who makes us "lame." (Well, maybe not deathly). So every time I decide I don't want to do something for some valid reason to me, I feel like he is secretly thinking that we're being lame.

I hate worrying about money, but I guess that one is just par for the course, seeing as I didn't work for a year. Being that the condo still hasn't sold I feel the money just slowly dripping out of me. However, I'm pretty sure almost everyone worries about money no matter what anyway.

Well I guess that's the big stuff that is floating to the top of my brain right now. Maybe typing through and sorting it all out will help me relax. I appreciate you all letting me vent and I know some of these things are total non-issues, but thanks for your support!

Yoga

I enjoy the running habit I have grown into in the last year or so because it has gotten me somewhere I never imagined I'd be. I was not a runner as a child or as a teenager. It was not my thing, and that is putting it mildly. I "ran" track in high school mostly because everyone else did and it was some scheduled hang-out time with my friends. My two events were the high jump and the long jump. I loved the high jump- it was so fun! (Side note: it has been said that my dad was watching the high jumpers of the 1984 olympics in the minutes of my birth as he waited in the waiting room while my mom was having an emergency c-section. I was destined to high jump.) Coach Craig eventually made all of us participate in one of the running events and since the 200 Meter dash was close to the end of the meet, that was usually what we'd all have to run. Anyway- too far off track- I was not a runner. To have run a 10 mile race at a pretty solid average pace in my 25th year of life is quite an accomplishment. One I am very proud of- one I wish Mike could know he was the inspiration for.

Although I am proud of my running and intend to continue running to keep myself (in particular, my heart) in shape, the novelty is wearing off. Somewhere in the back of my mind keeps floating the thought of my rusty, but one-time ideal yoga practice.

About 4 months before Mike was killed we spent a lot of time talking about our future, what we would be like together in our future life, how our family would run, etc. We decided we would have a healthy family, and do as much as possible to control our own health and that of our future children. To do this we thought it was necessary to begin all the healthy habits we could immediately so that it was easy to pass them on. We called it the "Healthy Family Plan." He had a lot more down time and he was working out a lot, and I promised I would try some different workouts and find something that I really enjoyed. I had toyed with the idea of yoga before. The deep breathing, the stretching and building of long, lean muscles all appealed to me, but in that sort of "hip, hollywood" way. After some research I found a class at the Westlake Rec Center and went 3 times a week. I feel in love. What I mean is that the teacher was amazing and presented the practice in a way that constantly appealed to me. I looked forward to going, and on long work days when I wanted to skip the night class I would realize on my drive home that it was so very worth it for me to go. It completely changed my state of mind for the day. It was like a reset button for me. I told Mike how much I was enjoying it, how I had found the workout that not only was making me stronger but that I wanted to do. This concept was so foreign to me.

My yoga classes were on Tuesday and Thursday nights- and Saturdays. Thursday, September 24, 2008 I was in yoga class. I remember what I wore- a navy blue tank top and gray yoga pants. I remember where I sat in the class, on the right side sort of in the middle. I came home after, and wrote Mike an email saying that I was glad I went to class tonight, it had calmed my nerves from a stupid fight I had with my mom earlier in the day. Then I said to him something like, "Baby, I'm really done with this. I want you home. I want this to be over. I don't know how much longer I can do this. I just want to have our wedding, and you back, now." He was already gone. He never received that message. I had no idea.

I know many women who knew something was different in the moments after their husband's death, before they were notified. Because of the time difference and circumstances, it takes a little while for the news to travel. I had no idea. I felt no different, except for my need to be near him, which was not a new feeling in the 11 months we were apart. I wasn't even worried. I say that in the way that those of you who have experienced deployed spouses will understand. I was in a constant state of worry being that he was deployed to a war zone, but at that point I was accustomed to living with that feeling and although I had that constant worry, I was more impatient with the time we still had left. I was more consumed with the thoughts of how amazing our wedding would be if we could only get there. I never, for a second, thought he was dead until I talked to my father, and then his father, the next morning.

So in the moments when he was scared, nervous, in pain, worried about all of us back here, telling his commander to tell me he loved me, in all those moments I was peacefully breathing through some pose with no idea what was happening.

These thoughts have kept me from yoga. When I began to be ready to workout again, I knew that I could not get back into that. I have tip-toed and toyed with the idea for more than 2 years now. I have bought a couple DVDs that I've done zero times. I dusted off an old DVD that I've done once. I downloaded an app that I did for about a week. I researched and found classes around Westlake, and even at the bally's I was a member of, but I can't take that final step to actually do it.

I looked in my current location and found a couple studios that looked inviting and do-able. Nick found a groupon to one of those studios and when he sent it to me I decided it was meant for me to being again. I bought it. For 2 weeks now I've intended to use it. I've looked at their website about 20 times. I've planned out a schedule that will allow me to try several classes. I was going to go 2 days ago. Then I was going to go yesterday. Then I was going to go today. I haven't gone yet. It's difficult, but surely I've done more difficult things. Thinking about those minutes before he passed are one of the things that still hangs in the hollows of my inner caves of grief. I shut the doors and hope they will clear out, but until I face it, move past it, realize it may be more beneficial than harmful, I don't think it will go away.

Here's to hoping I get my butt back to yoga...