A widowed friend of mine became engaged this week. I could not be happier for him and his children as they begin this new adventure together. I know his late wife would have wanted a woman to come into their lives - not to replace her, but to bring those things a special lady brings to the family. As I have said before, it takes a special person to love the widowed, therefore, I know she must be special.
I also know how hard it can be to move forward when you feel the eyes of judgement upon you for it. He has chosen to live his journey of love and loss and grief very publicly, which has been incredibly brave in my eyes. He and his late wife have opened the eyes of many by sharing their story, and he continues to do so by sharing this part of his life openly.
He shared an article that I enjoyed and want to share as well. You see, it is not always easy for those around a widowed person to understand re-coupling, and this article addresses that in a straightforward way that is easy to understand.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/carole-brody-fleet/remarriage-after-widowhood_b_3545400.html
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Off The Radar
Recently I had a revelation. I don't like Facebook. Maybe this is a temporary feeling, maybe it isn't. Time will tell.
I have been on it for years, since back when nobody aside from college kids had heard of it. Of course now it is so commonplace that most people have an account. And that is reflected in the fact that I have (or had) over 450 "friends".
On several occasions, I tried to pare down my list of friends, but it was difficult for me to virtually erase people from my life because I do actually know all these people. Friends from grade school, distant family, business associates, former classmates, friends from the prostate cancer community, fellow widows, friends and old classmates of Tim's, people within my social circle.... I felt bad deleting them.
Facebook takes too much time. For it to be an enjoyable experience in which you are participating, you need to interact with people - post things, respond to the posts of others, keep your photos up to date, etc. That was time that I would rather be spending with my "real" friends - the ones who will take the time to call, text or email ME, just me, just to see how I am. That time is better spent with A&A, laughing or going on a walk. Reading up on something I would like to know more about. Pretty much anything.
At some point I realized that by being on Facebook, I was causing myself to feel as though I was living in a fishbowl. People could see what was going on in my life at will, and I didn't even know they were watching. And by looking in on the lives of all these "friends" I started to feel like a voyeur. I had so much information floating around in my head about people with whom I had not spoken in earnest in years. Sometimes decades. It just didn't feel right anymore.
There were times I felt envious of other people's vacations or the simplicity of what I viewed as their "freedoms". Times I felt excluded when an event I had attended was talked about and my attendance wasn't mentioned. Rarely were the times when I felt that my time on FB was well spent or that I walked away feeling better than I arrived.
Standing in a line or waiting in a waiting room, instead of striking up a pleasant conversation with a stranger and having a face to face conversation where I could learn something interesting, I would pull out my phone and look at Facebook. It feels silly now when I say it.... an embarrassment, really.
In the last month of Facebook free living, I have gotten more phone calls from my "real" friends than I have in the previous 6 months combined. I have emailed people, even sent and received actual mail.
Since leaving, several people who have actually noticed my absence have asked me about it. The assumption seems to be that because I have chosen to disconnect, something must be wrong. To that I reply that it is just the opposite. I am both content and happy. My children and I are blessedly healthy. I have a wonderful man in my life who loves me. I get to spend time with his kids doing fun things. And now more of my time can be dedicated to them, and not divided among my 450+ "friends".
It feels good to be free and anonymous.
I have been on it for years, since back when nobody aside from college kids had heard of it. Of course now it is so commonplace that most people have an account. And that is reflected in the fact that I have (or had) over 450 "friends".
On several occasions, I tried to pare down my list of friends, but it was difficult for me to virtually erase people from my life because I do actually know all these people. Friends from grade school, distant family, business associates, former classmates, friends from the prostate cancer community, fellow widows, friends and old classmates of Tim's, people within my social circle.... I felt bad deleting them.
Facebook takes too much time. For it to be an enjoyable experience in which you are participating, you need to interact with people - post things, respond to the posts of others, keep your photos up to date, etc. That was time that I would rather be spending with my "real" friends - the ones who will take the time to call, text or email ME, just me, just to see how I am. That time is better spent with A&A, laughing or going on a walk. Reading up on something I would like to know more about. Pretty much anything.
At some point I realized that by being on Facebook, I was causing myself to feel as though I was living in a fishbowl. People could see what was going on in my life at will, and I didn't even know they were watching. And by looking in on the lives of all these "friends" I started to feel like a voyeur. I had so much information floating around in my head about people with whom I had not spoken in earnest in years. Sometimes decades. It just didn't feel right anymore.
There were times I felt envious of other people's vacations or the simplicity of what I viewed as their "freedoms". Times I felt excluded when an event I had attended was talked about and my attendance wasn't mentioned. Rarely were the times when I felt that my time on FB was well spent or that I walked away feeling better than I arrived.
Standing in a line or waiting in a waiting room, instead of striking up a pleasant conversation with a stranger and having a face to face conversation where I could learn something interesting, I would pull out my phone and look at Facebook. It feels silly now when I say it.... an embarrassment, really.
In the last month of Facebook free living, I have gotten more phone calls from my "real" friends than I have in the previous 6 months combined. I have emailed people, even sent and received actual mail.
Since leaving, several people who have actually noticed my absence have asked me about it. The assumption seems to be that because I have chosen to disconnect, something must be wrong. To that I reply that it is just the opposite. I am both content and happy. My children and I are blessedly healthy. I have a wonderful man in my life who loves me. I get to spend time with his kids doing fun things. And now more of my time can be dedicated to them, and not divided among my 450+ "friends".
It feels good to be free and anonymous.
Oh, Happy Day.
Yesterday was a very special day that was met with much anticipation.
Tim's daughter Brittany was married. I am still wrapping my mind around it. I guess to me, she is still partly that 15 year old girl I was so terrified to meet 7 years ago. Just like to her parents, she must be partially the little girl they walked to her first day of Kindergarten or that baby they rocked on sleepless nights. There is something about watching someone grow up that freezes them in your memory, I think.
Truthfully, I ran through every possible scenario in my head leading up to the day, knowing it was going to be a joyful day, but knowing that, more than any other day I can think of, Tim's earthly absence was going to be felt. I knew there was no avoiding that - it just came with the territory.
Of course, Tim was on my mind, but having Ayla & Anson there for the ceremony was a great distraction. Thankful for helpful friends and family or they would have both been running wild. Apparently the exchanging of wedding vows is not great entertainment for toddlers. Who knew??
Brittany and Zac looked wonderful and so in love - it was such an honor to witness their commitment to one another.
My parents put on their "Nana" & "Papa" hats and picked up A&A so that I could enjoy the reception and they could enjoy some toddler time.
Sitting with Tim's family at the reception, there was quite literally an empty place at our table. A seat all set with plates and silverware and glasses missing only one thing - Tim. I don't know if that was intentional or just how it happened.
Their introduction, their first dance. Brittany's bouquet with Tim's badge shining from the ribbons wrapped around her flowers - the symbolism quiet, but the reminder loud - that Tim was there. Toasts were made. Tim's Dad talked about how Tim felt Zac was a good guy. (He did, indeed. He said to me on several occasions, "What do you think of Zac?" When I told him that I liked him he would always say, "Yea, seems like a good guy.")
Still, there was an elephant in the room as we all knew that at most weddings, the "Father Daughter Dance" would happen next. Brittany's stepdad broke the silence in the classiest way, addressing who we were all thinking of. Brittany chose to dance with several important men in her life - her stepdad, both grandpas and her uncle, Tim's brother. It was perfect.
As "Over The Rainbow" faded into "What A Wonderful World", I couldn't help but think of how the lyrics reminded me of Tim's favorite brand, "Life Is Good". That is something he truly believed all the way to his core: life is good.
I know Tim would have given anything to be there walking her down the aisle and to dance to Tim McGraw like she had always envisioned. But it was a beautiful day. And somewhere over the rainbow, Tim is proud of his little girl - his beautiful, grown up little girl who is now Mrs. Walker.
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Tim's daughter Brittany was married. I am still wrapping my mind around it. I guess to me, she is still partly that 15 year old girl I was so terrified to meet 7 years ago. Just like to her parents, she must be partially the little girl they walked to her first day of Kindergarten or that baby they rocked on sleepless nights. There is something about watching someone grow up that freezes them in your memory, I think.
Truthfully, I ran through every possible scenario in my head leading up to the day, knowing it was going to be a joyful day, but knowing that, more than any other day I can think of, Tim's earthly absence was going to be felt. I knew there was no avoiding that - it just came with the territory.
Of course, Tim was on my mind, but having Ayla & Anson there for the ceremony was a great distraction. Thankful for helpful friends and family or they would have both been running wild. Apparently the exchanging of wedding vows is not great entertainment for toddlers. Who knew??
Brittany and Zac looked wonderful and so in love - it was such an honor to witness their commitment to one another.
My parents put on their "Nana" & "Papa" hats and picked up A&A so that I could enjoy the reception and they could enjoy some toddler time.
Sitting with Tim's family at the reception, there was quite literally an empty place at our table. A seat all set with plates and silverware and glasses missing only one thing - Tim. I don't know if that was intentional or just how it happened.
Their introduction, their first dance. Brittany's bouquet with Tim's badge shining from the ribbons wrapped around her flowers - the symbolism quiet, but the reminder loud - that Tim was there. Toasts were made. Tim's Dad talked about how Tim felt Zac was a good guy. (He did, indeed. He said to me on several occasions, "What do you think of Zac?" When I told him that I liked him he would always say, "Yea, seems like a good guy.")
Still, there was an elephant in the room as we all knew that at most weddings, the "Father Daughter Dance" would happen next. Brittany's stepdad broke the silence in the classiest way, addressing who we were all thinking of. Brittany chose to dance with several important men in her life - her stepdad, both grandpas and her uncle, Tim's brother. It was perfect.
As "Over The Rainbow" faded into "What A Wonderful World", I couldn't help but think of how the lyrics reminded me of Tim's favorite brand, "Life Is Good". That is something he truly believed all the way to his core: life is good.
I know Tim would have given anything to be there walking her down the aisle and to dance to Tim McGraw like she had always envisioned. But it was a beautiful day. And somewhere over the rainbow, Tim is proud of his little girl - his beautiful, grown up little girl who is now Mrs. Walker.
.JPG)
Lightning Striking Twice?
"Lightning never strikes twice."
That quote was in my mind after Tim died a lot. I mean, I never imagined that I would love a man as amazing as Tim. He was so good to me, truly teaching me the meaning of "how you deserve to be treated". I'm not just one of those widows who makes their late husband into a perfect person after he is gone - ask anyone who knew him - he was pretty close to perfect. He would deny being perfect, instead telling me that, "I'm just perfect for you."
So when Tim was gone, I pretty much convinced myself that I'd had the last of the Good Men out there and that I was destined to be alone or at best, with someone mediocre. And you know what, I was okay with that because I knew I'd had the best already. To expect, or even hope, for that to happen twice would be just plain greedy.
How did it happen, then, that instead I met someone wonderful? Was he a gift? A gift from Tim? A birthday gift from Tim? He always did love giving a good gift. Who knows. But he loves me. He looks out for A&A. He loves them, hugs them, helps them, sits in time out with them, builds them a new bed because they learn to climb out of the old one, reaches back to hold their hand in the car if they are crying. He listens to me, actually hears what I say, holds me when I cry, supports me, asks me questions about my past, my present and my dreams. He accepts me and doesn't think of my "baggage" as being "baggage" at all.
He is different from Tim in many ways, but he is exactly what I need right now. What we need.
Maybe lightning does strike twice.
That quote was in my mind after Tim died a lot. I mean, I never imagined that I would love a man as amazing as Tim. He was so good to me, truly teaching me the meaning of "how you deserve to be treated". I'm not just one of those widows who makes their late husband into a perfect person after he is gone - ask anyone who knew him - he was pretty close to perfect. He would deny being perfect, instead telling me that, "I'm just perfect for you."
So when Tim was gone, I pretty much convinced myself that I'd had the last of the Good Men out there and that I was destined to be alone or at best, with someone mediocre. And you know what, I was okay with that because I knew I'd had the best already. To expect, or even hope, for that to happen twice would be just plain greedy.
How did it happen, then, that instead I met someone wonderful? Was he a gift? A gift from Tim? A birthday gift from Tim? He always did love giving a good gift. Who knows. But he loves me. He looks out for A&A. He loves them, hugs them, helps them, sits in time out with them, builds them a new bed because they learn to climb out of the old one, reaches back to hold their hand in the car if they are crying. He listens to me, actually hears what I say, holds me when I cry, supports me, asks me questions about my past, my present and my dreams. He accepts me and doesn't think of my "baggage" as being "baggage" at all.
He is different from Tim in many ways, but he is exactly what I need right now. What we need.
Maybe lightning does strike twice.
Broad Shoulders
When is it that people start to go away? When do people figure you've got it under control? That you don't need them anymore?
Many widows or widowers can answer this question. It's when you start dating. Maybe that is why I have refrained for talking about that here.... It is certainly not a secret in my "real" life. But in my "real" life, I know who is watching me. Here I don't.
Once that leap of faith into dating is taken, people start to pull away. Mostly the people associated with your spouse, I would guess - their friends, family, co-workers. Maybe it is because it is painful to see you moving forward, a constant reminder that time marches on. Maybe it is because they think this means you are "all better" now. Maybe there is some discomfort thinking that you are "replacing" your lost spouse.
The new man is expected by some to sweep in and repair the pieces of your broken heart while taking on all the responsibilities that your spouse had, that other people had helped with up until now. He is supposed to not only be okay with all these sudden expectations, he should be gracious about it. He should respect your spouse and all the talk of him and all the photos of him on the walls. He should take on some of the fatherly roles but know that he will never be their father. Inside he wonders if he will always feel like second best. It takes some pretty broad shoulders to carry that weight.
The truth is that moving forward does not mean that you love your spouse any less. It doesn't mean that you are leaving that part of your life behind or trying to forget. Moving forward is not the same as moving on - moving forward is just starting a new chapter. It doesn't mean that you want to erase the ones that came before. All it means is that you recognize that you deserve to be happy once again - that your spouse showed you a love so great that even after the heartbreak of losing them, you still believe in love.
I read somewhere that it takes a strong man to handle a broken woman.
When a man dates a widow, he is getting a lot more than he bargained for - a truly broken woman. Women as a species are different from men, and therefore a lot of men have a hard time with them. With a widow, there is a lot of emotional baggage that must be dealt with tenderly, but not so tenderly as to make her think that you think she is weak. Those men are constantly walking the tightrope that is loving a broken woman. This is to be commended. Respected.
I can tell you one thing, I think Tim would respect the hell out of the man who loves me now. And he's got some pretty broad shoulders.
Many widows or widowers can answer this question. It's when you start dating. Maybe that is why I have refrained for talking about that here.... It is certainly not a secret in my "real" life. But in my "real" life, I know who is watching me. Here I don't.
Once that leap of faith into dating is taken, people start to pull away. Mostly the people associated with your spouse, I would guess - their friends, family, co-workers. Maybe it is because it is painful to see you moving forward, a constant reminder that time marches on. Maybe it is because they think this means you are "all better" now. Maybe there is some discomfort thinking that you are "replacing" your lost spouse.
The new man is expected by some to sweep in and repair the pieces of your broken heart while taking on all the responsibilities that your spouse had, that other people had helped with up until now. He is supposed to not only be okay with all these sudden expectations, he should be gracious about it. He should respect your spouse and all the talk of him and all the photos of him on the walls. He should take on some of the fatherly roles but know that he will never be their father. Inside he wonders if he will always feel like second best. It takes some pretty broad shoulders to carry that weight.
The truth is that moving forward does not mean that you love your spouse any less. It doesn't mean that you are leaving that part of your life behind or trying to forget. Moving forward is not the same as moving on - moving forward is just starting a new chapter. It doesn't mean that you want to erase the ones that came before. All it means is that you recognize that you deserve to be happy once again - that your spouse showed you a love so great that even after the heartbreak of losing them, you still believe in love.
I read somewhere that it takes a strong man to handle a broken woman.
When a man dates a widow, he is getting a lot more than he bargained for - a truly broken woman. Women as a species are different from men, and therefore a lot of men have a hard time with them. With a widow, there is a lot of emotional baggage that must be dealt with tenderly, but not so tenderly as to make her think that you think she is weak. Those men are constantly walking the tightrope that is loving a broken woman. This is to be commended. Respected.
I can tell you one thing, I think Tim would respect the hell out of the man who loves me now. And he's got some pretty broad shoulders.
F#@% Cancer: A rant rated PG-13 for language
I know a lot of people don't like "the F word". Yea, it can be pretty harsh, but to me it is the quickest, easiest one syllable way for me to express my feelings for Cancer. I shouldn't even capitalize that word because it doesn't deserve it.
It seems like almost daily now I am reminded of the hate that brews inside me for that disease. It is a malfunction on a cellular level, but a malfunction that changes everything. Everything.
You don't realize how bombarded we are with cancer until it touches your life. "Touches" may be the wrong word. It's not like a touch. It's more like a wrecking ball swinging through your life.
Today I read that Zach Sobeich has died. He was 18. He wrote this song that went viral on YouTube. A bunch of celebrities even made a video for him to his song. I have spent hours reading his CaringBridge journal and let me tell you, he was an inspirational and strong young man. I bet right about now his family and his girlfriend are thinking, "F#@% cancer".
The phone rings. I answer it. Someone on the other line works for a cancer charity I have never heard of and wants me to make a "donation to benefit cancer victims". I find myself lecturing the guy on how cancer patients do not like to be called "victims". Yea, I already gave the largest donation in the world to cancer - my husband. F#@% cancer.
Breast cancer seems to be running rampant. My own family members and friends have fought this battle. I marvel at their grace and bravery. Every month I am feeling myself up in the most un-romantic way because I am scared. Young women are making choices, seeking treatment and being bullied by insurance companies. A girl I went to high school with was recently diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. I am 33. That would make her 32. She has a young daughter. What is going on??? F#@% cancer.
A high-profile celebrity just had an elective double mastectomy and she is garnering both praise and intense criticism in the press. True, few of us will ever have the monetary ability to afford such a decision, but few of us have been in her position, so should we be judgmental? I don't know her, her situation or her fears, but I think that was her way of saying "F#@% cancer" and I support her strength in doing so.
My dad has a best friend he's known since his early 20's. He is strong and health conscious. He has a wife and college-aged kids. He and his family were incredibly supportive of Tim and me while he was battling cancer. He has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Although he always knew the words to write to make us feel better, I have no idea what to say. All that keeps going through my head is, "No! This is not fair!!" And of course, 'F#@% cancer'.
I need to channel this anger. Usually I am very good about finding ways to do that, but it's been a month since I worked a charity event for cancer. I haven't spoken in front of a group in months. Last year I went to Washington DC to participate in a conference on prostate cancer. The logistics of that are just too much with 2 toddlers, and I'm not sure I will make it this year. I guess I am just frustrated and wish there were more I could do.
It seems like almost daily now I am reminded of the hate that brews inside me for that disease. It is a malfunction on a cellular level, but a malfunction that changes everything. Everything.
You don't realize how bombarded we are with cancer until it touches your life. "Touches" may be the wrong word. It's not like a touch. It's more like a wrecking ball swinging through your life.
Today I read that Zach Sobeich has died. He was 18. He wrote this song that went viral on YouTube. A bunch of celebrities even made a video for him to his song. I have spent hours reading his CaringBridge journal and let me tell you, he was an inspirational and strong young man. I bet right about now his family and his girlfriend are thinking, "F#@% cancer".
The phone rings. I answer it. Someone on the other line works for a cancer charity I have never heard of and wants me to make a "donation to benefit cancer victims". I find myself lecturing the guy on how cancer patients do not like to be called "victims". Yea, I already gave the largest donation in the world to cancer - my husband. F#@% cancer.
Breast cancer seems to be running rampant. My own family members and friends have fought this battle. I marvel at their grace and bravery. Every month I am feeling myself up in the most un-romantic way because I am scared. Young women are making choices, seeking treatment and being bullied by insurance companies. A girl I went to high school with was recently diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. I am 33. That would make her 32. She has a young daughter. What is going on??? F#@% cancer.
A high-profile celebrity just had an elective double mastectomy and she is garnering both praise and intense criticism in the press. True, few of us will ever have the monetary ability to afford such a decision, but few of us have been in her position, so should we be judgmental? I don't know her, her situation or her fears, but I think that was her way of saying "F#@% cancer" and I support her strength in doing so.
My dad has a best friend he's known since his early 20's. He is strong and health conscious. He has a wife and college-aged kids. He and his family were incredibly supportive of Tim and me while he was battling cancer. He has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Although he always knew the words to write to make us feel better, I have no idea what to say. All that keeps going through my head is, "No! This is not fair!!" And of course, 'F#@% cancer'.
I need to channel this anger. Usually I am very good about finding ways to do that, but it's been a month since I worked a charity event for cancer. I haven't spoken in front of a group in months. Last year I went to Washington DC to participate in a conference on prostate cancer. The logistics of that are just too much with 2 toddlers, and I'm not sure I will make it this year. I guess I am just frustrated and wish there were more I could do.
Who Your True Friends Are
"When times are tough, you find out who your true friends are." We have all heard that phrase. Often overused and sometimes told to us as children when we are have had a falling out with a friend.
A variation of this is brought up at nearly every meeting of my "Grief Group". People frequently mention that they are surprised about the people who have been there for them... and who has not. I understand this statement because I am walking that path.
I am not surprised about the close friends and family that have been here for me since Tim passed. I'm not "surprised", I am proud. Proud of them for being such a tremendous support and also proud of Tim & me for choosing such amazing friends to have in our lives. Something we had in common was intense loyalty - both of us have many friends we have had since childhood and early adulthood - we make our friendships a priority, and in return, when needed, our friends are there for us. Many of his friends have been there for me: a person they love only by association.
I remain (pleasantly) surprised when I get a call or an email from someone Tim worked with or knew casually just to check in and see how we are doing. It makes me happy to know that someone who wasn't super close to him would care enough and take the time to let me know that he is still on their mind. That they think about me and Brittany and the babies. That Tim has not faded from their memory.
Those he worked with closely (his "Squad") still invite me to parties and call and come to see the babies or meet me for lunch. They were his work family and I know that his absence leaves an empty place in the Department and in their hearts. They miss him, they grieve and they have constant reminders of him just like we all do.
I have fleeting memories of a conversation with one of Tim's friends - someone he knew his whole life. We were standing in our kitchen and I was crying. I told him I was afraid - one of the only times I have admitted that to anyone other than Tim. I shared with him that I was afraid of being alone. Not in the sense of not being married or being in the house by myself, but of being truly alone: when everyone else moves on with their lives and all of a sudden it's just me. Forever. He said something to the effect of, "The people who matter will still be here".
He was absolutely right. The people who care are still here. Even some who I was not close with before, I find myself closer to now. Apparently tragedy can sometimes help to grow friendships. And the others? Que sera, sera. I'm left with pleasant memories of when we were friends. And, yes, a vague feeling of disappointment that our friendship was not "true" enough to weather the "tough times". But I'm a big girl and I am fortunate to have the best people I could ask for in my life.
A variation of this is brought up at nearly every meeting of my "Grief Group". People frequently mention that they are surprised about the people who have been there for them... and who has not. I understand this statement because I am walking that path.
I am not surprised about the close friends and family that have been here for me since Tim passed. I'm not "surprised", I am proud. Proud of them for being such a tremendous support and also proud of Tim & me for choosing such amazing friends to have in our lives. Something we had in common was intense loyalty - both of us have many friends we have had since childhood and early adulthood - we make our friendships a priority, and in return, when needed, our friends are there for us. Many of his friends have been there for me: a person they love only by association.
I remain (pleasantly) surprised when I get a call or an email from someone Tim worked with or knew casually just to check in and see how we are doing. It makes me happy to know that someone who wasn't super close to him would care enough and take the time to let me know that he is still on their mind. That they think about me and Brittany and the babies. That Tim has not faded from their memory.
Those he worked with closely (his "Squad") still invite me to parties and call and come to see the babies or meet me for lunch. They were his work family and I know that his absence leaves an empty place in the Department and in their hearts. They miss him, they grieve and they have constant reminders of him just like we all do.
I have fleeting memories of a conversation with one of Tim's friends - someone he knew his whole life. We were standing in our kitchen and I was crying. I told him I was afraid - one of the only times I have admitted that to anyone other than Tim. I shared with him that I was afraid of being alone. Not in the sense of not being married or being in the house by myself, but of being truly alone: when everyone else moves on with their lives and all of a sudden it's just me. Forever. He said something to the effect of, "The people who matter will still be here".
He was absolutely right. The people who care are still here. Even some who I was not close with before, I find myself closer to now. Apparently tragedy can sometimes help to grow friendships. And the others? Que sera, sera. I'm left with pleasant memories of when we were friends. And, yes, a vague feeling of disappointment that our friendship was not "true" enough to weather the "tough times". But I'm a big girl and I am fortunate to have the best people I could ask for in my life.
Thankful 2011
Every year since I've been online, I have posted my thanks at Thanksgiving. Being grateful and expressing thanks is something that I believe strongly in and that I hope to instill in our children. All too often we tend to take things for granted and I think it is important to slow down and really think about how blessed we are.
This year I have watched a lot of people post something they are thankful for each day for the month of November.
Thankfulness has been really difficult for me this year for the first time in my life. Instead of being grateful, I just want to cry and scream "Fu*k you, cancer - give me my husband back!!!!" Yes, I can still smile. I have even genuinely laughed a few times, but life is less enjoyable, less colorful, less vibrant and seems less worthwhile without him. I lack motivation, focus, purpose, joy or even contentment.
From the day we met, I loved being "Tim & Autumn" and I may never adjust to being "just Autumn".
All that being said, I have thought long and hard about things I am thankful for. There are still many - some very bitter sweet, some too personal to share - and I will share only a few. This year I am thankful:
- That I have the greatest husband I've ever met and that he is the father of our babies, who I know will be better because he is a part of them. For every kiss, every long talk, every hope and dream we shared, every night falling asleep holding hands. Even knowing the heartache I am experiencing now, I would not trade a single day with Tim. He remains always and forever the love of my life.
- For my family, Tim's family and our incredible friends who have been like a net there to catch me when I fall. I know they would say it's "just what we do", but the list of people who have gone above and beyond in their support is long, and I am grateful.
- For the Department - Tim's brothers (and sisters) in blue who have held our family with the greatest love, care, honor and kindness. I know that they miss Tim every day like we do, and I know that they will make sure that we are always members of the Tempe family.
- That the babies and I will get to stay in the house Tim & I wanted to raise them in and that I know he is here with me every day sitting beside me and guiding me. For all the happy memories in the house and that I don't have to leave them behind.
- For a healthy pregnancy, the joy of feeling our babies moving around inside me, and the excitement I feel to meet them and kiss their sweet faces. This is not how I imagined pregnancy would be - I imagined Tim and I laying in bed together watching my tummy shift - but I know Anson & Ayla's well-being has forced me to deal with losing Tim in a healthy way.
- For Tim's medical team. Although this did not turn out the way we expected or hoped, I know his Drs fought for him, respected him and cared for him. Their staffs were our friends we saw every day who did so much for Tim, me and our family. The nursing staff of Scottsdale Shea C-3 are angels who helped him fight and when it was time, helped him rest. I am forever grateful.
- For the community that I know and those I don't know who have helped me in so many ways - their words of comfort, prayers, donations and assistance are what has gotten me through this far. I have a long road ahead, but I think of how blessed we have been every day.
This year I have watched a lot of people post something they are thankful for each day for the month of November.
Thankfulness has been really difficult for me this year for the first time in my life. Instead of being grateful, I just want to cry and scream "Fu*k you, cancer - give me my husband back!!!!" Yes, I can still smile. I have even genuinely laughed a few times, but life is less enjoyable, less colorful, less vibrant and seems less worthwhile without him. I lack motivation, focus, purpose, joy or even contentment.
From the day we met, I loved being "Tim & Autumn" and I may never adjust to being "just Autumn".
All that being said, I have thought long and hard about things I am thankful for. There are still many - some very bitter sweet, some too personal to share - and I will share only a few. This year I am thankful:
- That I have the greatest husband I've ever met and that he is the father of our babies, who I know will be better because he is a part of them. For every kiss, every long talk, every hope and dream we shared, every night falling asleep holding hands. Even knowing the heartache I am experiencing now, I would not trade a single day with Tim. He remains always and forever the love of my life.
- For my family, Tim's family and our incredible friends who have been like a net there to catch me when I fall. I know they would say it's "just what we do", but the list of people who have gone above and beyond in their support is long, and I am grateful.
- For the Department - Tim's brothers (and sisters) in blue who have held our family with the greatest love, care, honor and kindness. I know that they miss Tim every day like we do, and I know that they will make sure that we are always members of the Tempe family.
- That the babies and I will get to stay in the house Tim & I wanted to raise them in and that I know he is here with me every day sitting beside me and guiding me. For all the happy memories in the house and that I don't have to leave them behind.
- For a healthy pregnancy, the joy of feeling our babies moving around inside me, and the excitement I feel to meet them and kiss their sweet faces. This is not how I imagined pregnancy would be - I imagined Tim and I laying in bed together watching my tummy shift - but I know Anson & Ayla's well-being has forced me to deal with losing Tim in a healthy way.
- For Tim's medical team. Although this did not turn out the way we expected or hoped, I know his Drs fought for him, respected him and cared for him. Their staffs were our friends we saw every day who did so much for Tim, me and our family. The nursing staff of Scottsdale Shea C-3 are angels who helped him fight and when it was time, helped him rest. I am forever grateful.
- For the community that I know and those I don't know who have helped me in so many ways - their words of comfort, prayers, donations and assistance are what has gotten me through this far. I have a long road ahead, but I think of how blessed we have been every day.
Support Systems
They say that in the roughest of times, you find out who your friends are. I'm not sure who "they" are that say this, but I have witnessed it in the last 2 months.
It has made me so sad to see Brittany struggling through losing her perfect dad with a limited support system here in the Valley. Unfortunately many of her friends just don't know what to do or say, and thus they do and say nothing. Honestly, at 20, how many of us knew how to comfort a friend who had lost a parent? Very few, excluding the other kids who have walked that terrible path. While she has needed comfort, many couldn't find the words. When she has needed company, they were too busy living life to see that hers was at a stand still. When she has needed normalcy, they have been awkward. It's been hard to watch and it has added to my heartache for sure.
Fortunately, apparently by our 30's we know a little more. We understand that sometimes there aren't the right words, but a hug will do. We have learned that sometimes you don't have to say anything at all - just being there counts. We still make the call and extend the invitation even if we know it will be declined. I would also say that in the roughest of times you find out what kind of friend you have been, because with friendships, you often reap what you sow.
I have learned what I always knew - that I have the best friends around. That I may be an only child by blood, but my "sisters by choice" are part of my family.
Since I lost Tim, my ladies have been by my side and stayed with me every night. They have taken my calls when I just need to talk about nothing and when I need to cry about missing Tim. They have listened to my stories, my nonsense and by blubbering sobs. They have been there for me morning, noon and night.
I hope that this means that they are somehow showing me that I have also been a good friend to them. We have pulled each other through the good times and bad. The laughter, the celebrations, the breakups, the births, the promotions and lay offs, birthdays, funerals, you name it. I've always known where I could turn, than they have always known that they could turn to me.
To my sisters: I thank you and I know that without you I would be a mess. I love you and I'll never, ever be able to repay you for your love and kindness.
It has made me so sad to see Brittany struggling through losing her perfect dad with a limited support system here in the Valley. Unfortunately many of her friends just don't know what to do or say, and thus they do and say nothing. Honestly, at 20, how many of us knew how to comfort a friend who had lost a parent? Very few, excluding the other kids who have walked that terrible path. While she has needed comfort, many couldn't find the words. When she has needed company, they were too busy living life to see that hers was at a stand still. When she has needed normalcy, they have been awkward. It's been hard to watch and it has added to my heartache for sure.
Fortunately, apparently by our 30's we know a little more. We understand that sometimes there aren't the right words, but a hug will do. We have learned that sometimes you don't have to say anything at all - just being there counts. We still make the call and extend the invitation even if we know it will be declined. I would also say that in the roughest of times you find out what kind of friend you have been, because with friendships, you often reap what you sow.
I have learned what I always knew - that I have the best friends around. That I may be an only child by blood, but my "sisters by choice" are part of my family.
Since I lost Tim, my ladies have been by my side and stayed with me every night. They have taken my calls when I just need to talk about nothing and when I need to cry about missing Tim. They have listened to my stories, my nonsense and by blubbering sobs. They have been there for me morning, noon and night.
I hope that this means that they are somehow showing me that I have also been a good friend to them. We have pulled each other through the good times and bad. The laughter, the celebrations, the breakups, the births, the promotions and lay offs, birthdays, funerals, you name it. I've always known where I could turn, than they have always known that they could turn to me.
To my sisters: I thank you and I know that without you I would be a mess. I love you and I'll never, ever be able to repay you for your love and kindness.
POP Walk for Tim
On August 27th, I lost the love of my life, my best friend, my partner, the father of our babies and the reason every day was beautiful to me. I have not said anything because I don't know what to say. My heart is breaking every moment of every day.
Undoubtedly I will have more to say later, for right now I have something driving me - Tim's desire to support POP and the early detection of Prostate Cancer. I am asking you today to join me on Saturday September 24th at 8:30 in Kiwanis Park in Tempe. I will be speaking on Tim's behalf and continuing to spread his monumentally important message.
Register by clicking HERE and join our team, "Bustin' Perps, Fighting Cancer". When you are filling out your registration, I know that it is a little confusing, but I assure you that I am the Team Captain and you will not become the Captain by writing your name in that blank.
In years past we have asked our friends and family to wear yellow to show your support for Tim. This year the official POP shirts are yellow and have Tim's face and our team name on them. With that in mind, I will not be placing a t-shirt order this year.
If you have any questions, please contact me. I look forward to seeing you there.
Undoubtedly I will have more to say later, for right now I have something driving me - Tim's desire to support POP and the early detection of Prostate Cancer. I am asking you today to join me on Saturday September 24th at 8:30 in Kiwanis Park in Tempe. I will be speaking on Tim's behalf and continuing to spread his monumentally important message.
In years past we have asked our friends and family to wear yellow to show your support for Tim. This year the official POP shirts are yellow and have Tim's face and our team name on them. With that in mind, I will not be placing a t-shirt order this year.
If you have any questions, please contact me. I look forward to seeing you there.
Family, Friends & Brotherhood
I do not usually use this venue to talk about Tim's health. Yes, there may be a mention here and there as it's hard to avoid mentioning something that plays such a sometimes large role in our lives, but it's not a focus - we have CaringBridge for that. Instead I choose to focus on our lives together as a whole. I choose to try and write and share our story without giving the Stupid Effing Cancer the attention it wants.
Today I'm going to talk about it a little bit. More than a mention in passing, but not enough to let it "win" this day.
This morning, my beautiful step daughter, her boyfriend, my sister in law, Tim's cousin and her daughter, and my in-laws all hiked 7 miles in Flagstaff in the Climb to Conquer Cancer. That's the kind of attention I like - the kind that only serves to beat the cancer down. To degrade it and show it who's boss. The days when our family stands on top of the mountain victorious all for Tim.
We both have great family. We have surrounded ourselves with amazing life long friends. We have a support system that can't be beat. And we have "the brotherhood" - a force to be reckoned with. What is the brotherhood? It's something that I didn't used to know about. Something I that maybe I heard about on TV. It's something that happens when a bunch of people do push-ups together, develop deep bonds, fight crime and have each other's backs no matter what. It's not a myth - it's very real in the thoughts and actions of a Department that loves my husband unconditionally. It's a kind of unconditional love that I have witnessed repeatedly and I know exists. It is like another family.
These men and women - these friends, these "Brothers" and "Sisters" - have watched Tim and I struggling these last few months and have jumped to our aid. They have run our errands, cut our yard, sprayed for crickets, they have sent cards and emails expressing their support, visited, laughed and brought care packages. They have loved us in a time when we have most needed it in every way.
Thursday, that love is being taken to a whole new level. They have worked tirelessly to put together a benefit BBQ to help Tim and me with some of the daily financial struggles that Cancer has brought us. If you are free, we would love to see you. Come and let those sworn to protect and serve you 'serve' you a burger. These are some of the most loving and selfless people you will ever get the chance to meet.
Today I'm going to talk about it a little bit. More than a mention in passing, but not enough to let it "win" this day.
This morning, my beautiful step daughter, her boyfriend, my sister in law, Tim's cousin and her daughter, and my in-laws all hiked 7 miles in Flagstaff in the Climb to Conquer Cancer. That's the kind of attention I like - the kind that only serves to beat the cancer down. To degrade it and show it who's boss. The days when our family stands on top of the mountain victorious all for Tim.
We both have great family. We have surrounded ourselves with amazing life long friends. We have a support system that can't be beat. And we have "the brotherhood" - a force to be reckoned with. What is the brotherhood? It's something that I didn't used to know about. Something I that maybe I heard about on TV. It's something that happens when a bunch of people do push-ups together, develop deep bonds, fight crime and have each other's backs no matter what. It's not a myth - it's very real in the thoughts and actions of a Department that loves my husband unconditionally. It's a kind of unconditional love that I have witnessed repeatedly and I know exists. It is like another family.
These men and women - these friends, these "Brothers" and "Sisters" - have watched Tim and I struggling these last few months and have jumped to our aid. They have run our errands, cut our yard, sprayed for crickets, they have sent cards and emails expressing their support, visited, laughed and brought care packages. They have loved us in a time when we have most needed it in every way.
Thursday, that love is being taken to a whole new level. They have worked tirelessly to put together a benefit BBQ to help Tim and me with some of the daily financial struggles that Cancer has brought us. If you are free, we would love to see you. Come and let those sworn to protect and serve you 'serve' you a burger. These are some of the most loving and selfless people you will ever get the chance to meet.
Click HERE to see the full sized flyer....
The Big Secret: Thursday, March 10, 2011
Preface: The posts in this series were written in the past. I am posting them chronologically, but these events are not taking place right now, they already happened. The date in the title of each post is the date it was originally written.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've heard that some women spend a lot of time since they were little girls thinking about their wedding. I wasn't one of them. I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about our wedding until we were engaged and then it was just practical planning and such.
What I have thought about considerably more is how I want to tell my parents that we're pregnant. Maybe that's silly, maybe it's an "only child thing", but I think it comes from the part of me that loves to give the perfect gift so I can see the look on the person's face. I hear being a grandparent is the ultimate gift, after all.
This is one of the reasons that I am not going to publish this post (or many others) for quite a long time. The only people who know we are going through an IVF cycle are those who must know for practical purposes - our employers.
Tim and I talked a lot about it and based our decisions on 2 things:
1) We want to surprise our families with happy news. (I'm not the only one. Apparently he's crazy, too.)
2) We don't want to dash any hopes if things don't go according to plan on the first try. (it was hard to have to report failure after failure with our IUIs and if thigs don't work out with IVF, we need time to cope privately before opening it up to the world.)
It was a hard choice because we do want to be open about this process - that's why I am blogging to be able to post in the future. We think it is important to share eventually no matter what the outcome. Someone somewhere can learn something from this process.
In 31 years I have never kept a secret this big - especially from my parents, with whom I share pretty much everything. Whenever I start to feel guilty, I just remind myself that they did know Tim was planning to propose for a long time. And my sweet, sweet Mom did have my engagement ring in her possession for 8 months without spilling the beans. Then I feel a little better about it.
The real question is how will people possibly not notice how bloated I get during this cycle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've heard that some women spend a lot of time since they were little girls thinking about their wedding. I wasn't one of them. I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about our wedding until we were engaged and then it was just practical planning and such.
What I have thought about considerably more is how I want to tell my parents that we're pregnant. Maybe that's silly, maybe it's an "only child thing", but I think it comes from the part of me that loves to give the perfect gift so I can see the look on the person's face. I hear being a grandparent is the ultimate gift, after all.
This is one of the reasons that I am not going to publish this post (or many others) for quite a long time. The only people who know we are going through an IVF cycle are those who must know for practical purposes - our employers.
Tim and I talked a lot about it and based our decisions on 2 things:
1) We want to surprise our families with happy news. (I'm not the only one. Apparently he's crazy, too.)
2) We don't want to dash any hopes if things don't go according to plan on the first try. (it was hard to have to report failure after failure with our IUIs and if thigs don't work out with IVF, we need time to cope privately before opening it up to the world.)
It was a hard choice because we do want to be open about this process - that's why I am blogging to be able to post in the future. We think it is important to share eventually no matter what the outcome. Someone somewhere can learn something from this process.
In 31 years I have never kept a secret this big - especially from my parents, with whom I share pretty much everything. Whenever I start to feel guilty, I just remind myself that they did know Tim was planning to propose for a long time. And my sweet, sweet Mom did have my engagement ring in her possession for 8 months without spilling the beans. Then I feel a little better about it.
The real question is how will people possibly not notice how bloated I get during this cycle.
Baseline: Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Preface: The posts in this series were written in the past. I am posting them chronologically, but these events are not taking place right now, they already happened. The date in the title of each post is the date it was originally written.
This morning the process got real. A year ago I would have told you that the process would get real to me with the first needle I stuck in my belly, but after going through a similar process for the 4 IUIs, that doesn't really phase me anymore.
This morning was the "baseline ultrasound" and blood draw. There are a lot of ultrasounds when you are undergoing fertility treatments. Even more when it is IVF. This was the first one, the one done before you have pumped any stimulation drugs into your body so the Dr can see where you are starting. Next week I'll be having an ultrasound every other day at a minimum because they will be closely monitoring the eggs I am growing. We'll know all the new nurses by name in no time.
Tim loves ultrasound appointments. "Counting Eggs". Today, since there were no eggs yet to count, I suggested he could just skip this appointment. No big loss - mainly it was me laying on a table looking at a screen and pretending that I recognize what I am seeing. (I wonder if everyone does that at ultrasounds?) I got pretty good at counting the eggs before, but it's a lot harder to spot ovaries when they are little and not overflowing with follicles. Right now it's just a dark patch on the screen.
The nurse was new. She's a PA, actually. Maybe she is not new but I never worked with her before - she may just specialize in IVF. She said everything was perfect and she thinks this will be a great cycle. I wonder if they say this to everyone?
I've already started and stopped one medication, and I'm several days into mediation #2, an injectable. In a couple days, I'll begin #3 (another injectable) and #4 (a pill). By my count there are more than 10 medications in this cycle.
We're talking more about "the babies" now. I'm dreaming about them, too. They are always twins in my dreams. This week Tim's sister opened an egg and found that it had 2 yolks. I'd like to think it's a sign. I'm probably reaching just a wee bit with that, huh? I clearly have IVF on the brain.
Sharing Is Caring....
Tim and I have been talking a lot these last few days and these last few weeks. We talk a lot anyway. We swear that good communication is the key to our damn near perfect relationship (yes, I hear you gagging). For us it's always better to talk about things - good and bad - when it seems that things couldn't possibly be going any better and everything is falling into place, but also when it's not all sunshine and roses, even when it is hard, even when it hurts.
We've had an open door policy that you probably know because you know one or both of us. You may also know about Tim's honesty with good humor as he shares about his health on Caringbridge. You may know about my blunt and blatant honesty because we grew up together or worked side by side on something.
Today, after much discussion, we have decided that we are ready to share a story with you, the people we care about. It's a story that I have been documenting quietly for awhile. We will share it with you slowly over the coming weeks.... Maybe in hopes that you'll better understand, maybe so you can have compassion for someone you will meet at some point in your life, maybe just to get it off our chests.
Follow along on our little journey. You might learn something you didn't know before.
If you would like to receive email updates when a new post is made, you can submit your email address under "follow by email" on the right side of the screen.
We've had an open door policy that you probably know because you know one or both of us. You may also know about Tim's honesty with good humor as he shares about his health on Caringbridge. You may know about my blunt and blatant honesty because we grew up together or worked side by side on something.
Today, after much discussion, we have decided that we are ready to share a story with you, the people we care about. It's a story that I have been documenting quietly for awhile. We will share it with you slowly over the coming weeks.... Maybe in hopes that you'll better understand, maybe so you can have compassion for someone you will meet at some point in your life, maybe just to get it off our chests.
Follow along on our little journey. You might learn something you didn't know before.
If you would like to receive email updates when a new post is made, you can submit your email address under "follow by email" on the right side of the screen.
Doggie Un-Friendly
Before I ever had a dog, I remember Sunday mornings spent on bar patios (sorry, Mom) drinking bloody marys while sleepy dogs lounged in puddles of sunlight nearby. It was everywhere. Iguana Macks, Salty Senorita's, Dos Gringos, that great bar in Snottsdale with the couches and the kitchen that stays open til 3am....
Now when I want to spend a full day with my favorite dog there are no fun dog-friendly places to be found. What's the deal? What happened? Where did they go?
I search online, I google my little heart out and all I find are reviews pre-2008 talking about how *great* all these places are yet none of them are dog-friendly today.
Don't get me wrong, there are a couple places I know of. There's a coffee shop in Gilbert that has a walk-up window and caters to dogs. There's always Chipotle. And of course there's the dog park. But I want something more! I want to be able to spend a relaxed weekend morning having an egg burrito and a bloody mary with my friends, my husband, my DOG!
Help. What do you know that I don't and that google won't reveal?
Now when I want to spend a full day with my favorite dog there are no fun dog-friendly places to be found. What's the deal? What happened? Where did they go?
I search online, I google my little heart out and all I find are reviews pre-2008 talking about how *great* all these places are yet none of them are dog-friendly today.
Don't get me wrong, there are a couple places I know of. There's a coffee shop in Gilbert that has a walk-up window and caters to dogs. There's always Chipotle. And of course there's the dog park. But I want something more! I want to be able to spend a relaxed weekend morning having an egg burrito and a bloody mary with my friends, my husband, my DOG!
Help. What do you know that I don't and that google won't reveal?
Weekend of Wonderfullness
Please don't tell me that "wonderfullness" isn't a word because it's all I could come up with to describe this past weekend.
I made Cake Bites galore Friday evening with my trusty assistant (Tim) helping me every step of the way. (Or at least every step he is permitted to help with - I am a tiny bit of a control freak....) I love getting creative and was pleased with how they all came out. With his help, I was able to get a lot more done than I thought would be possible.
Saturday we had a family lunch to celebrate Tim's Grandma's 89th birthday. She is one of my favorite people. So on top of everything from history to culture to world events and she has the most wonderful laugh. It was great to see everyone. After the party we were able to have a relaxed evening watching a movie together at home. It has been so long since we had an evening with no real plans and were able to just curl up together. Perfection I tell you.
Sunday Tim was excited to see his Steelers play in the Superbowl. We had some friends and family over and although his team didn't take home the trophy, we enjoyed good food and wonderful company.
We are so blessed in so many ways.
I made Cake Bites galore Friday evening with my trusty assistant (Tim) helping me every step of the way. (Or at least every step he is permitted to help with - I am a tiny bit of a control freak....) I love getting creative and was pleased with how they all came out. With his help, I was able to get a lot more done than I thought would be possible.
Saturday we had a family lunch to celebrate Tim's Grandma's 89th birthday. She is one of my favorite people. So on top of everything from history to culture to world events and she has the most wonderful laugh. It was great to see everyone. After the party we were able to have a relaxed evening watching a movie together at home. It has been so long since we had an evening with no real plans and were able to just curl up together. Perfection I tell you.
Sunday Tim was excited to see his Steelers play in the Superbowl. We had some friends and family over and although his team didn't take home the trophy, we enjoyed good food and wonderful company.
We are so blessed in so many ways.
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About Me
- Autumn
- Learning to navigate the unpredictable waters of life as a new mom and a young widow.... still with the sweetest puppy imaginable.
