Friday, March 21, 2014

because it's March 21st

thinking of Rob, who today would have been 42.
I would love to do his favorite thing and go for a run on the trail today, but my messed up ankle and knee are keeping me indoors.  
     We'll have a Mt. Dew, some dark chocolate, and perhaps try to grill out, though.  Maybe watch some Star Wars or old Godzilla movies.  
   For Rob, go for a run, drink a Mt. Dew, grill some meat, spend time with your family, remember your faith, wear something purple, and break out your converse.  These simple things were all Rob needed, and he was at his happiest in his recliner, with his dog on his lap, and a beer in his hand.  He never needed the grand gesture and wasn't big on making them, but we KNEW how very much he loved us.  I thank God every day that my kids, that I, know how well loved we were.  
     How I wish I could hear your voice, smell your skin.  I close my eyes and I can picture you - young, skinny, long-haired - coming to pick me up from work when we were 19.  When I am out on the trail I can hear your footfalls beside me - healthy, fit - training for your next run.  And I can't help but remember your frail, ravaged body struggling in the hospital bed.  
It's everyday.
For me, it's every day.
How very, very loved you are.  

Tuesday, March 4, 2014


I am tired all the time. 
I am tired of dwelling
I am tired of trusting,
 trying, or pretending
tired of succeeding.
And, dear God – I am so tired of failing.

In psychology class we recently finished a chapter on human development.  As the authors described the latter part of the life span there was a paragraph on the stresses older adults face.  Death of a spouse has been found to be the most significant, stressful event in a person’s lifetime.   Most never recover and it’s not uncommon for couples who have been married a long time to die within 2 years of one-another. A broken heart.
But what if you’re 40? 
I saw a table where life events were given a rating (a stress factor) of 1 – 100.  (The Holmes and Rahe Stress Scale
Death of a Spouse sat at the top with a solid 100, 
followed twenty-seven points later by divorce at 73.  
Death of a child ranked at 63. 
What do you do with that?  
I’m one-hundred tired. 
and I can't go back

I moved out of my parents house and lived with Rob at 19.  We were so young.  Stupid.   
 Neither of us had ever lived on our own.  We grew up together and figured things out. We became parents at a young age and, for the most part, we figured that out together, too.  Neither of us were attending church when we started dating – but through God’s grace we made God the center of our lives and learned that part together as well.  We didn’t know a whole lot about anything, but the little things that each of us brought to the relationship complimented the others lacking knowledge and so we made our way. 
We messed up - A LOT.  but, we laughed a whole lot, too.

 A friend recently pointed me to a blog called a lovely frame, and asked me if I felt like this woman in one of her posts titled “a girl named wild” (if you chose to read it, be warned, it’s explicit). 
this. every day.  

I don’t want you to tell me how great you think I’m doing or that you’re praying for me.
I just want you to know that it doesn't get easier. 
I don't want to figure anything else out by myself today   
I miss him. 

And I’m so fucking tired.