Chasing My Blessings

Dear Bill, Some people dream of fame and fortune. Some want to spend their lives climbing the corporate ladder. Some dream of traveling to far away lands. Others want to be the best at their sport. I just wanted a family. You and the kids were my dream. I picked up your belongings from the state patrol recently. Everything that you were wearing that day, came home with me in a box. It was heartbreaking to go through it all. Why do I torture myself like this? Because I regret the fact that I wasn't there with you at the end. I hate that they wouldn't let me see you and I wish I would have fought harder to do so. Because I didn't get to say goodbye. Because I had poured my life into you. Because you were my person and I was yours. This loneliness is enough to make a person crazy. I know that I need to learn to be comfortable being alone, but I don't want to. That isn't how I want to live my live. I miss being in a partnership. It's pretty incr...

It's been a little over 17 months. We have all come a long way. Our hearts are healing. We have made new memories. We have vacationed. We have made new friends. We have met new challenges and worked through them. There is a new man in my life. A really wonderful man, who I am certain Bill would have really liked. We are moving forward into a new life without him. One that he will never physically be a part of. I am very grateful for the life that I have and I have found happiness again, but I am also mourning the life that we would have had with Bill here. I frequently find myself rejoicing in things that happen to us, but at the same time feeling sorrowful that Bill isn't there to experience them with us. I have accepted that this is likely how it will be for the rest of my life. We will always miss him. We will always love him. What happened to him will always haunt me. The second year is hard. In nearly every grief book I read this was addressed, but I failed to se...

I miss Bill to the depths of my soul. Nothing could ever take away or replace the love that I have for him and the life we shared together. Some made say collateral beauty is a term invented by hollywood to sell tickets at the box office, but I am here to tell you that it is a real thing. Through the immense pain and devastation of my husband's shocking death, I have been given some incredible gifts. Gifts that I may have never received had this not happened to us. This tragedy has given birth to an extraordinary sisterhood that I am now a part of.  I am a believer that certain people come in to your life for a reason. Since Bill's death, I have been crawling through the darkness in search of light, and there has been a group of women surrounding me the entire time. These women came to my side, unasked and without hesitation. Some of us were friends before, some of us mere acquaintances, some had never met each other. I can say without a doubt, that I am better and s...

Last night two of the kids needed help with their math. TWO KIDS. NEEDED HELP.  WITH MATH. I hate math. It has never been my strong point. Bill, of course, was a math genius. I was trying to make dinner, deal with my whining 4-year-old, and help the two of them all at once. Naturally I started crying. This is total bullshit,  I thought. He should be here, doing this with them. He was so much smarter than I am. Math, among other things, was definitely his wheelhouse. This is so unfair.  After I made dinner I managed to pull myself together and figure out how to teach long division AND measurement conversions. Thanks YouTube. A couple days ago I was working on Owen's baby book, which I swore I would have finished by his fifth birthday and I have exactly three weeks to make good on that. Needless to say this little activity was torturous and should have been paired with a bottle of wine. Off to the liquor store I go. Kidding. Sort of. Blake's cyclocross coa...

Dear Bill, In case you were wondering how things were going lately, I will fill you in. Blake is learning cursive at school, so I have to remember how to do that again which is super fun and not at all frustrating since I have the worst penmanship ever. Luckily he did not take after me in the writing department so he doesn't require a lot of help there. Another bonus for me... his teacher said that she rarely sends home math homework. Reason being is that if the students are having trouble with it in class, she doesn't want them going home and either risk getting too much help or (and this is the category I would fall into) having the person at home who is helping them actually not know the correct way to do it either. Fantastic. I am in awe of how grown up he is. He is such a sweet boy and he makes me so proud. In 5th grade they have to chose an instrument to play for either band or orchestra. Blake chose the violin. I introduced him to your personal favorite, “Th...

After Bill died, my love became trapped deep inside of me. I couldn't see a way for it to ever be freed. I wanted so badly to be able to give it to someone and was afraid that would never be possible. I feared I wouldn't be able to ever let anyone in again. My heart had been so broken that I had warranted it beyond repair. A million pieces scattered amongst the ruins of of an unfathomable tragedy. They told me it would happen. I didn't believe them. And to be perfectly honest, there was an element of fear in loving another man. I didn't think I could handle another loss again, if that were to happen. I remember talking to my mother a few weeks after Bill died and telling her that I thought I was also dying. At the time I was feeling all the physical effects of traumatic loss and it was more than my body could physically handle. Over the next several months, and with the help of lots of trauma release therapy, my body slowly recovered and I got my energy back an...

Dear Bill, Where the hell are you? We were supposed to do this together. Raising children was a mutual decision. And we were a great team. And then nine years and three kids in, you were taken away. Most days I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders from doing this alone. This widowed parenting thing is SO HARD. Somebody ALWAYS NEEDS SOMETHING. It is constant. And now I am the only one here to deal with it. I must hear "Mom," or "Mama," no less than 700 times a day. Someone is always whining. They bicker about the most ridiculous things. They want me to feed them ALL. THE. TIME. I don't remember the last time I took a shower without someone interrupting me because they need to poop, or they want a snack, or they are tattling on one of the others. And the questions. My God the questions. "Are we there yet?" "When is dinner?" What are we having for dinner?" "Can I have a friend over?" "Can we watc...

It's been a year. I have made it no secret that the past month has been difficult. My birthday, Father's day, the year marking of Bill's death and our wedding anniversary are all within a ten day span. While I am certainly allowed to have ups and downs in my grief, I also realize it is hard for those around me to watch.  There is a glass house that comes to those who grieve a loss this big. All along I have been marveled at for my strength and bravery. But I have also been very sad and scared and lonely. A year later I am still having episodes of total devastation and breakdown. I cannot be a beacon of light all the time. I am not a phoenix rising up from the ashes of this horrible storm. I cannot demonstrate inspirational resilience all the time. I am allowed to be weak. To be human. No one person should ever have to shoulder this burden and there are no set instructions on how to navigate this storm. We all have to follow our own path. Grief is not some neat ...

Dear Bill, It's Father's Day. Our first one without you. I struggle every single day knowing you aren't here to parent these children with me. I struggle knowing that I will never be able to give them everything you would have. I cannot give you back to them and that is what upsets me the most. The kids are too young to realize what they will be missing out on without you here, which is heartbreaking in and of itself. While I don't know the details of what would have been, I do know their lives would have been enriched in countless ways with you here to father them. And I also know that you would have done anything possible to be here raising them if you were given the chance. Your fatherhood was cut short by someone with very messed up priorities, and that isn't fair. But that's the way it is. You were denied so much, and so were the kids. My grief has many layers and it has become as much a part of me as another other physical part of my body. I am learnin...

I am dating. And I am in love with a dead man. It's as complicated as it sounds. And yet, it isn't. We met a few months ago after we were introduced by mutual friends. He is smart and kind and funny and so very patient with me. I was immediately charmed by his beautiful blue eyes and warm smile. He is so easy to be with that in some ways I feel like I have known him forever. I went into this expecting exactly zero. I knew he would be there that night, but was certain that nothing would come of it. I am a widow. With three young kids. Not exactly something most guys are willing to take on. Apparently that wasn't as big of a deterrent as I thought because he asked for my number and after speaking on the phone a few times that week, he asked me to go hiking. I cannot possibly describe the range of emotions I felt, and still feel on some level, that first date. And I was so worried that if people knew I was dating they would think I was over what had happened to Bill a...

Sentencing was yesterday. This is the impact statement I read in court.... June 26, 2016 should have been mine and my husband’s 12th wedding anniversary. Instead of celebrating, I spent the day planning my husband’s funeral and explaining to my children that their daddy had been killed and was now in heaven. The evening before, he had done something he had done nearly every day of his adult life. He went out for a bike ride. The only difference this time, was that he didn’t get to come back home. My children and I have been walking through hell for the past eleven months. I have been through intense trauma therapy for PTSD. My children are also in therapy. We are crippled with grief, fear, and anxiety. Callie has stolen our sense of trust and security in this world. Our family and friends have been completely devastated by the loss of this man. The pain and trauma that we have all been put through has been unimaginable. Never again will we hear his infectious laugh or see his br...

Today is Mother's day. My first one as a widowed parent. Thus far, my children have not acknowledged it. And you know what? That's OK. It isn't their fault there father isn't here to remind them to wish me a "Happy Mother's Day." Or to help them secretly prepare some craft for me or go shopping for me. And I am certainly not going to make them feel guilty for not realizing what today is. They are little boys. My friends tried to help by taking them shopping and reminding them yesterday to give me the gifts they both bought and things they made at school. Those things remain hidden in their rooms somewhere while my children run through the house in their Halloween costumes, giggling with the dog on their heels. Honestly, the gifts and the attention are not important. And while I know my friends and family have their hearts in the right place by trying to help the boys celebrate me, it still stings a little. It is yet another reminder that their father is...

I believe in second chances. I believe that while life can take away something wonderful and amazing, it can give you something just as beautiful and extraordinary in return, but you have to be willing to look for it. I also believe that in order to fully appreciate what we have been given in this life, we have to love and respect ourselves and to have the courage to know that we are not in control here. I believe that when tragedy strikes, those that have fallen its victim have a view on the world that no one else has. I love harder, smile bigger, and live fuller because my eyes have been opened to the unimaginable. I no longer let fear get in the way of my dreams. This is not to say that I'm not afraid. I am. When I find something great, I fight that much harder to keep it, because I know what it is like to lose it. What scares me now is losing what is truly precious. Not taking the chance to say what I am feeling. Not letting others know how much I love and appreciate them. Not ...

For a long time my life felt like an endless sea of darkness. I was struggling to keep my head above water. Struggling to not inhale too much water while my arms flailed around me. Struggling while so many people sat, calmly, in ships surrounding me. Watching me while quietly encouraging me to go on. The voices are louder now and they are cheering for me. My flailing arms have found their stroke and I move with purpose. My breathing is relaxed and rhythmic.  I am tired, but I feel myself getting stronger. I can see the shore. It is still a long way off, but it is visible. The sky is lighter and the clouds are beginning to part. I have hope. Today was Easter. There were some dark moments, but overall we had a good day. He should have been there last night with me, meticulously stuffing and hiding the easter eggs for today's hunt. This morning he should have been obsessing about setting up the camera at just the right spot in the yard to capture the video of the kids finding al...

From March 2016 (forgot to post) I'm not very good at widowhood. I feel equally inadequate in the department of widowed parenting. I am trying, in vain to move forward with our lives, but I feel like all I am really doing is slogging through the muck and darkness, getting nowhere. It's like treading water. For days on end. Trying to use just enough energy to keep my head above the water, but not waste too much energy so I don't get so tired that I drown. How does one remain sane through all of this? The anti-depressants are helping, but they certainly don't change my reality. The kids are constantly pulling me in different directions with their activities, and needs and not to mention their grief. One wants me to read him a book, another needs help with his homework, and another one is trying to tell me about what happened at school My head is spinning while I try to attend to all of this and cook dinner at the same time. Trying desperately not lose my cool and st...

We were in the mudroom. All 5 of us getting ready to leave. The kids and I were going one direction, Bill in another, getting ready to head out for his ride. We stood face to face talking while the kids danced around us scrambling to find their shoes. He was putting his sunblock on. He had done his arms and neck and face and was rubbing it into his ears when he said he would be back by 5 o'clock, 5:15 at the latest. I took one last look at him methodically rubbing his sunblock onto his left ear with his right hand while holding the bottle in his left. He had his white Rally sport jersey on. I told him to have fun and I'd see him later. The kids and I left the house. After our errands, and a quick stop by a neighbor's house so Blake could feed their fish while they were on a camping trip, we arrived home. I showered, fixed my hair, and put my make-up on. At 5 o'clock when he didn't arrive home I didn't get worried. I figured he or one of the other guys had a me...

Shortly after he died I cleaned out most of the drawers in his bathroom. I just needed a release and most of that stuff I had no connection to. I threw away countless tubes of sunblock, various oral care devices (he was prone to cavities and Bill Davis was NOT going to let anything get the best of him, least of all a cavity.) I threw out a random assortment of ointments, chapstick, eye drops, and shaving lotion. But I could not throw out the socks. I bought a new bed, new bedding, a new mattress, and new end tables. I gave all the old stuff away. I could not stand sleeping in our bed any longer. It was too painful. I would toss and turn all night long thinking,  he should be laying right here next to me.  Now I just have a big bed all to myself and while this is incredibly lonely, he never slept here. This is just mine. Well, mine and Ruby's. Now when I lie awake at night I'm thinking about all the stuff I'm doing wrong as a widowed mother, and wondering how I am ever ...

I'm so tired. I'm so tired of the grief. The stress. The longing. The ache. The lonliness. I'm tired of watching my kids cry and plead for thier father. I'm so tired of being a single mother. A widowed mother. I'm tired of not knowing if I will ever see the light again. I'm tired of tossing and turning at night. I'm SO TIRED of him being dead. I'm tired of being everybody's hero. I don't want to be a hero. I just want to be a girl, who married an amazing guy that makes everyone (including herself) think, how' d she get so lucky??