Sunday, March 27, 2016

light & dark

Time moves forward.  New lives begin on this earth and come to an end.  It is spring, a time of new life coming out of the darkness of winter.  Your life ended in spring and mine became darkness, not how it's suppose to be.  Time cruelly moves forward taking my memories.  Memories of my finger tips caressing your face feeling that soft skin of your cheek and then your rough stubble as my fingers glide down to your chin.  Missing your embrace & resting my head on your chest.

I'm having trouble remembering you before you were sick.  All my memories are of the last 11 months of your life.  I'm trying to remember times of our life before your illness.

There was this one morning we were living in San Diego and I made coffee for us, I forgot to add the coffee, so I made hot water.  We tried again, the second time we forgot to put the carafe under the coffee maker & had coffee all over the counter.  We cleaned up the mess and went out for coffee.  It became a running joke "how many Smiths does it take to make coffee?"

You kept me calm and grounded, I don't know how to do that on my own.  I'm trying, struggling really.  I try to think what would you do or say when I get anxious about things I can't control.

I am so tired, but I don't want to lay in bed and let myself sleep.  This choice is not smart, life is so much more difficult when I'm tired, my thoughts and feelings just bring me down, yet I still choose to sit here.  I would also really like to start running again.  I always feel so good after I run, I think it would be good to have some time to myself.  That's what this is now, time by myself; maybe that's why I choose not to lie in bed.  In our bed our little girl sleeps, she feels closer to you because she sleeps where you slept.

This bed was a circumstance of your illness.  You never got restful sleep in this bed.  Your last week you lived in this house you slept in a chair in our living room. The living room, the room in our house you spent your last days living.  A living room we painted "lettuce alone green" with high gloss purple beams.  You slept in the chair & I on the couch next to you.  Our bed lay empty as you struggled for comfort & sleep.

I will crawl into that bed and close my eyes, it's spring, into the light and out of the dark.

I love you handsome.

take care

Monday, March 21, 2016

Eight thousand seven hundred sixty

It's not the same & obviosly never will be.  I see parents interact & a couple interact with each other, we were so in sync in everything we did.  I miss you so much every day even still.  I'm trying so hard not to loose focus, not to enter that fog.  When I think of this place I think of it has the setting in chapter one of our life.  The introduction took place in Des Moines & December 1, 2001 marked page one, chapter one.

I saw some friends that I haven't seen since our wedding day including the man who interviewed me for a position that shaped my career.  He not only opened the door, but was my mentor as I learned what it meant to perform tasks in a pharmacy.  He transformed those tasks into compassion & opened my eyes to a career where I could live out my passion: to help others.  

All the anticipation of this trip, the excitement of being on vacation has warn off & the emptiness has returned to the forefront.  I'm glad we had the big reunion lunch right after we got here I don't know if I'd be able to do it now. 

The last few weeks have been such a struggle with our little girl.  She thought I had the knowledge & power to save you, but I didn't & I let you died.  She didn't want to go to school, there was even a day she had to leave school.  She had an anxiety attack & I nearly took her to an emergency room.  Some how idea after idea came to me & finally I got her calm.  

I am doing the best I can & making decions with her well being as my goal.  I want to go & pay my respects to my Mom & Gram, but as I lay here with her next to me I don't think that would be a good idea.  

She & I went for a walk today, things were getting a bit much for her.  We were on the sidewalk along a busy street & my mind was racing & I was frightened she would run into the street.  I am so scared of losing her too, that would be the end.

As this first year of this existence without you  comes to an end I'm starting to realize that there is no magic & all will not be whole again.  It seems that society expects me to be "over it" after this first year.  I'm so tired of people telling me the first year is the hardest, like day 366 will be the dawn of a new life.  All I see is dusk.  

I love you handsome man & miss you so much.

take care

Monday, March 7, 2016

take each breath

What happened?  Everything was going so well, I felt like I could conquer the world.  I'm so tired, physically and tired of this world without you.  I have no motivation to do anything.  You know a few weeks ago I was cooking from that fancy French cook book you got me.  I'm just back to this emptiness and selfishness.  It's hard for me to focus.  I gave up on "Lord of the Rings" I just couldn't focus on it.  After work I tried a mystery "The Woman Who Walked in Sunshine" but just couldn't get into it, I don't know if I was just tired from work or if I'm just tired of this existence.

I learned something last week, you changed your mind.  Please know I wasn't giving up on you, I was doing my best to help you, to help you find peace, to help you have moments without pain.  Those decisions weighed so heavily on me.  I know in my heart of hearts those are the decisions that had to be made, they just weren't easy.

Someone asked me what would you say right now?  All I could say to that person is "I don't know" but I've been thinking about that question a great deal.  My gut reaction is you're dead, you're not going to say anything.  In your own words you've just "turned off" and you're gone.  Part of me thinks you would be mad at me because I just can't let go.  I sit here after she's gone to bed and just cry because I ache for you, or I'll be in the shower and just fall against the tile and let the water and fan conceal my grief.

What would you say to me now?  As I sit here and take each breath, feel my blood pulsing through my head, feel my chest pound, I wouldn't want this for you.  If we can't be together then I wouldn't want you to suffer like this.  I love you so much.

take care,

Wednesday, March 2, 2016


A story to share: May 2, 2000.  You made plans we would go out to dinner this evening.  I get home from class and we're ready to go, for some reason I drive us to the restaurant in West Des Moines, Mondos.  I order Chicken Marsala, my favorite dish at our favorite restaurant, you order salad.  This really should have tipped me off.  We talk, we laugh, and enjoy each other like we always do.  We finish our meal and I see the waiter leaving the kitchen with a dessert on his tray that has flames, I distinctly remember asking you if that was a flambe dessert, as it came closer and more in view I then remember telling you, that it must be someone's birthday.  All of sudden the waiter stops at our table with this chocolate dessert, candles, a ring and there you are on one knee telling me something.  I honestly do not remember all that you said, though I'm sure you worked on those words painstakingly.  All I know is that I said yes and there was a ring on my finger, I believe we even got applause from the Tuesday night dinner crowd at Mondos.

We left that restaurant as a couple engaged, I drove, and just drove.  We were headed in the right direction, and we just went.  I drove and I remember not knowing exactly where we were and it didn't matter because we were together.

October 1998: Chicago.  A group of us took a trip and it was wonderful.  You knew before I did.  Starbucks.  Chai tea latte.  kindness. the beginning of our story, a story that started before I even knew it existed.  Boone's strawberry hill.

Walnut Street East.  The Good The Bad The Ugly.  QuickTrip.  Chicken feather snow.  The grotto in winter.  "Damn it Feels Good to Be a Gangsta"  Basketball. Maurice Cheeks.

All these memories flood back to me and it makes me miss you so, but I won't let myself cry, well won't let myself cry too much anyway.  I will stop and my last thought will be the first time we shot pool together and you put a quarter in the jukebox and played our song.

I love you handsome man.

take care.