The Definition of Undefined

With Dave being gone, we will at some point in the next few months need to find alternate insurance benefits. I decided to be semi-proactive and check the healthcare market place to see what our options will be when it is needed.  I started filling out the online application, but stopped after one of the first question: Married or Single.... 

I have never imagined spending a day with anyone besides Dave; we were picture perfect.  He was the first and only boyfriend I ever really had.  Sure having met him at 14 (he was 16) we had bumps along the way, small breakups, fights ect.  However, we haven't had any "issues" of that sort since before I graduated high school, basically 10 years now.  We just worked so well together.  He was rather easy going and agreeable, I am neither of those.  Dave loved not having to think about much of anything, I know it sounds silly to some, but he was quite content with just going along.  As long as I left time for him to fit in a game hockey or round of golf, or for a stop at the brewery; he didn't much mind what I planned.  When I decided it was time for a project he never complained, knowing I would surely compensate his hard work with his favorite; a back rub.  Did we argue and disagree, of course, but we aren't the type of people who would stay angry for any real amount of time.  We talked about how we would be those old people you read about on Facebook, who have been together for 50+ years and pass away lying side by side holding hands; like the old people in the movie Titanic.  My great grand parents were together for what seemed like an eternity, I really don't think they ever spent a day apart.  I grew up spending most summer days at their house, and I am sure watching their marriage had a huge influence on mine.  My great grandma was much like I am.  She wanted things her way, and my great grandfather just went with it; not really minding.  Even on the night before our wedding, Dave and I slept in the same house, just different rooms.  I didn't want to be farther from him then that.  We had no problem doing things separately, we just chose not to.  

Married or Single? I feel like the definition of undefined.  I haven't stopped being his wife, he's still my husband.  The word Widow is something I don't even like to look at... it sounds so; old. But what happens when even that isn't an option on a questionnaire? Am I married?  We weren't divorcing, I didn't choose to have him removed from my life.  If not for his accident we would be just as married and happy today as we were 3 weeks ago.... But that accident did happened; and he's gone.  I don't want to be "single" or even defined as such.  I am as devoted to him and as in love with him today as I have ever been.  I haven't even taken into consideration NOT wearing my rings, and I don't plan on it anytime that I can think of.  Will there be a day I decide differently? I have no idea.  Even at the hospital sitting with him, the only time a I really really lost it; was when the nurse took his ring off of him to give me.  He NEVER took that ring off, I placed it there April 5, 2009 and it hadn't moved since that day.  Dave was so proud of that; so am I.  He wouldn't even take it off for me to clean it, I had to do it on his finger (which really isn't very effective).  We never stopped being married, he just stopped being here.... so what does that make me? I couldn't be more proud of the man/husband/father that he was, and I feel so incredibly blessed to grow up loving him, I will happily and so very proudly tell anyone and everyone I was (am?) his wife. I find it interesting now, that at our wedding ceremony the vows we used never mentioned "till death do us part".  I actually found/wrote the vows we both used, and that phrase is one I didn't want included. It seemed so morbid, and unnecessary at the time; it still does.  I don't need a definition of what I "am" in terms of our relationship for myself.  I will never stop being his wife.  On paper, I'm not sure.  Maybe someone out there with some legal knowledge can decipher that for me; but I honestly don't much care either way.  

The Straight Away

I've written so much these past few weeks that has been brought out by pain and sorrow.  Today isn't one of those days.  Everyday there is pain, and there is sorrow; but somedays there are smiles and hope.  Today was an "average" day.  I LOVE AVERAGE!  Average means we all woke up did our thing and are ending our day as normally as we know how.  There were fun things today.  A surprise package for the kids from a lovely friend in Canada, with a special treat of Kinder Eggs (I know you know what they are, because your 5 year old is watching other kids open them on YouTube too).  A fun order from Justice for Kam of spring clothes she excitedly picked herself; and ordered with gift cards she hoarded.  Some cute new outfits from my Grandma for Miss Kendall Mae... homework, puzzles, playtime.  There was an ice cream delivery (Thanks Marc!), giggles, and being silly.  Granted I sit here on this couch, occasionally glancing at the recliner where Dave should be, busily playing his latest iPhone game addiction.  That part sucks, it's going to keep on sucking for a long long time.  The countdown to Kendall is ON, only 6 days left, she is a welcomed distraction (as in welcome to get her butt out here ASAP). It's been two and a half weeks since we have seen Dave or been able to hear his voice.... odd is still the best way to describe it.  But there is hope today.  I still cried, I cry at some point everyday.  Today it was much less then other days, I am thankful for that.  Days like this let me know that this road might not be as long and sad and winding as it seems at times, there might be some bright sunny straight aways on it too... I know it has plenty of bumps and pot holes; but we don't have to dread every turn.  

The Oddity in the Peace

These last two weeks have been the most difficult of my life.  Mentally there is more then I can even handle thinking about at any one given time.  I think of Dave, and then I think of all of the years and memories, then I add in the kids and then the kids feelings; and I get to Kendall and what this all means for her.  I find strength in those two little people every minute of everyday.  If they can both get up, get dressed, and go to school; I can do anything.  Life is still flying past us. These have been the shortest two and a half weeks of my life, but it feels like an eternity since Dave's been here.  There is an odd sense of peace in our house.  We get up and go about our day.  Lunches get packed, kids are dropped off, chores are done, kids are picked up, activities are attended, dinner and baths happen; then we are onto the next.  Yet the days go so so slowly. The most insignificant things suddenly take me back to what is missing from our life.  The moments are filled with emptiness.  We lived our life making moments, mostly for the kids; but also for ourselves.  We always worked our hardest at still being best friends before anything else.  The unfinished plans and the moments without him are what make the days long, and the hearts ache.  Hearing a video with the sound of his voice cripples me, and brings me the biggest smile simultaneously.  It is so real, yet so surreal.  I swear one day he is going to walk through that door, but I am far to rational and have too much common sense; I know that will never happen.  I took the kids to dinner last night in Atlantic City, our last date before their sister arrives.  They threw pennies into the water feature in Caesar's, Colton of course shared his wish with me... That his daddy was still alive.  That word, alive, coming from his small voice is loaded; it shakes me to my core.  To hear a little boy who's best friend in this world was his daddy, use the word "Alive" in reference to a wish for him.... I can't even hold it in as I type this; despite best efforts.  There is NOTHING in this world worse then hearing your sweet, innocent, cheerful little boy wish his best friend, role model, and father were simply...ALIVE. Although she didn't say it there, Kamryn did of course when we were home; confirm her wish had been the same as Colton's (and mine).  I LOVE that he (and Kamryn) can talk about him, we remember him through out each day.  I didn't want to put Dave's memory away, I want to make him as much a part of their everyday lives as I can still.  He wasn't the kind of dad to just leave me to "raise the kids", and go about his business.  I never worried about leaving him with them to do something as I often hear other moms joke (in a non joking way) about.  I didn't have a concern in working a few nights when Kendall was born, because he could handle it; he was that kind of man.  I had eternal and unconditional trust in him; especially with our babies.  There is no part of the day that he is not noticeable absent because of how GOOD of a husband/father he was.  The kids and I have a new bedtime routine now, which includes a sweet goodnight, in unison to their dad.  There is SO MUCH PAIN, but there is also peace.  The peacefulness is the oddest feeling I can describe.  I am a person that thrives on facts, details, information.  If I have answers I have everything.  I thankfully, was able to gather a lot of information about Dave's accident.  I have been able to find a "reason" and come to some terms with why it ended as it did.  I will NEVER accept it, I will NEVER be ok with it... but I can get through the day because of what I know about the circumstances.  There is a modicum of peace because of what I know.  I can fall asleep most nights without crying, which feels like a strange accomplishment.  One of the most appropriate adjectives for all of it, aside from tragic, is Odd.  Everything about it is odd: the simplicity in our lives before he went to work that day, the "completion" of so many goals and projects in the months/weeks, even days before he left us.  Knowing that other then in videos, we won't hear his voice again.  The simple menial everyday things that I/we can't do or now do differently... You never realize how much you take for granted running out to wawa to grab a coffee before everyone is up on a Sunday morning; until you can't do that anymore.  Asking him to grab X, Y, Z on his way home from the store.  Granted I have a list of willing helpers into the 100's at this point, which I am so eternally grateful for.  However, it makes you reliant on EVERYONE.  It's painful, tragic, heart wrenching, yet peaceful; in the most odd way possible.  Life feels simpler, simplicity brings that odd sense of peace.  I don't feel like we have to keep living, looking to what's coming up next.  Although I still strive for their lives to be filled with big exciting moments they will cherish and remember, I instead work towards what matters most.  To me, at least for now, what matters most is taking advantage of every minute together.  Whether they are minutes spent laughing, crying, playing, smiling, or hurting.  I soak in every hug, every kind word, every I love you.  There is pain, but there is peace.  Learning to live with that is odd, but we are doing just that; learning to live again....

From Four....and Back Again

There are many significant dates in history that people often refer to and say "I'll never forget where I was when."  For me, for us, that day is March 2, 2015.  It was a Monday, gray overcast skies.  Frigid, highs in the mid 20's with freeze/ice warnings the night before. I woke up earlier then usual, being 9 months pregnant with our third baby (a girl) that was happening a lot, it was around 6:30 a.m.  Dave was in the kitchen heating up his lunch for work that day, Colton 5, our soon to be middle child; sleepily made his way to join me in the living room.  He laid on the couch across from me, where I rested on the recliner.  Kamryn 7, our eldest was still tucked in her bed asleep.  Dave walked down the hall to whisper a goodbye and "I Love You" to her; as he did every morning.  Before he left for the day he laid a blanket on Colton, gave him a kiss, told him he loved him.  Finally he moved on to me, kissing my forehead, telling me he loved me; I told him to be careful.  It was 6:41 a.m., I heard him start his truck and wait a few minutes to let it warm up; and then he drove away... for the very last time.  Sometime around 7:00 I heard a slew of sirens, not the norm around here for that time of the morning.  I had an odd feeling and text Dave making sure he was OK.  I'd done that a few other times in the past, when the rare siren blare could be heard at that time.  After a few minutes I still hadn't herd back, not totally uncommon since his job often had them getting that days orders around those times; and I knew he couldn't answer me until after.  About 10 minutes later I got an odd text, offering prayers and help with the kids. The person who sent it to me didn't know that I had no idea what had occurred. Dave's truck had slid on a huge patch of black ice, it was a rear wheel drive 2002 Ford Ranger, no side airbags.  The driver door slammed into the only tree within hundreds of yards on the opposite side of the road. After a muddle of poor communication with a few people, I learned he was the reason for those sirens. I never imagined at that moment it would end the way it has. After a wait for a babysitter for the older two, and a 30 minute ride to the hospital Dave ultimately ended up at; I knew. It is never a good sign when there is a man at the door waiting for your arrival.  I didn't even have to give him my name.  They take you to the "family room", I couldn't even go in; I already knew. I can't even begin to describe the events that happened next, honestly because I don't remember much.  I sat with him for about 2 hours, it was some of the purest; yet oddest two hours of my life.  I thought a million thoughts in such a short time. I thought of the past, I thought of the future, mostly I thought of the two amazing people at home that I was now charged with sharing this horrific information with.  I stopped before going home to talk to the amazing guidance counselor at my daughter's school.  There is never a right or wrong when something like this occurs, but I wanted this to scar them in the most minimal way possible; if that is even a possibility.  I sat them on my bed, and I said it: "Daddy died, he isn't going to be coming home." Again, a blur.  They cried, yelled, sobbed; so did I.  It's a pain deeper then even what I was already feeling, which doesn't seem imaginable.  This is an unwanted journey, a story that I wish I didn't have the opportunity to tell. One week from today our now family of three, will go back again to four; as Kendall Mae joins our family.  There is so much change and heart ache, love and excitement all in only 23 short days.  I may be the only one to ever read these words, but I want to share them; even if only with myself.  I want to one day be able to show the details, the memories of years prior to and far past March 2, 2015; with our children.  For anyone else taking this unwanted journey with us, I pray it is only as a spectator, following our new path.  That in your life, you have not suffering the same fate. http://www.pressofatlanticcity.com/obituaries/thomas-david-m/article_4b43bf31-c556-538a-8f1b-ad0ba55e0c9b.html