Blogging Hiatus

I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus from blogging over the last couple years. I blogged a lot after losing Mark but then life started looking up again and I got sidetracked and let blogging fall to the wayside. I’ve been positing on social media (Facebook) because that’s been my platform over the years but I’ve taken a hiatus from blogging. 

The last blog I wrote was in October 2021, three months after losing Gabe. I wrote that I was doing well because I knew how to walk the widow walk and “it was like muscle memory.” Part of that was true. I knew what to do for sure, but the other part that I failed to realize was that I was in shock! I was walking through life as if nothing had happened when I had just lost my second husband, the father of my girls, my answered prayer. 

My grief was definitely delayed after losing Gabe. I felt it in small waves at first and was able to go on about life because I was in shock, denial. At about the year mark it hit me like a tsunami and wrecked my world. I was having trouble balancing work and home stressors. My relationship that I thought was going somewhere was filled with drama because he and I were both filled with trauma. When we met we fit well because I was depressed and suppressing my grief. I was in a space where I didn’t want to go out, I didn’t want to dance and sing and live and experience life. I just wanted to be a homebody and be loved and escape my life sometimes. His personality is very reserved and guarded, very withdrawn. So we meshed well enough at first. We didn’t push boundaries with each other and we respected each other’s grief and trauma. 

But as I started to heal I started realizing that we didn’t gel so well because we are very different people. Different personality types. I realized about 9 months in that we weren’t a good fit for each other but I have a hard time quitting people. I was hell bent on making it to the other side of the struggle, putting in the hard work to bond together and pull each other through this hard time. We tried to make it work but there was always something, it never came easy, it was always a struggle. The stress of the relationship, the back and forth and emotional toll it took on me, the unpredictability and impulsivity that I was showing to my kids, friends, and family… all of it were signs of PTSD. 

I realized I wasn’t doing him any justice by keeping him in a relationship he wasn’t enough for. He needed to heal too and he couldn’t do that with me in the picture as a distraction. And I wasn’t doing myself justice or allowing myself to fully heal because the nurturer and healer in me kept worrying about him and trying to help him heal. I had to put the oxygen mask on myself and break free. I felt guilty about giving up on him, I grappled with that for a long time, but ultimately I had to make a choice. So I ended it.

Since then I’ve been focusing on my walk with God and taking care of myself. I’m protecting my peace, the little peace that I have right now, and nurturing it to help it grow. I’m re-centering myself in God and what He says about me and life’s situations and I’m trying to choose joy more than I have been this past year. I’ve said it before that “this past year has been the hardest year of my life” and then SOMETHING ELSE HAPPENS! I’m going to quit saying that. But this year has definitely been more of a challenge and I’ve lost perspective and lost my joy at times. I’m almost ashamed to admit that because I am such a strong believer and I know my joy comes from the Lord but I have failed miserably this past year. I have fallen short and lost my hope and joy. If you can imagine me walking on a path following after Jesus… I’m still walking on the path but I’m downtrodden. My head is hung and my face is flushed with furrowed brows. I’m dragging my feet and wavering as I walk, leaving the path ever so slightly as I mumble and fumble through the desert that is my life right now. But still I’m walking in the same direction. I’m not lost, I still look up and see Him way up ahead, but I’m discouraged that I’m so far behind and I’m so exhausted and thirsty! My soul is thirsty. My heart is thirsty.

It makes me think about the Israelites who wandered for 40 years in the desert and how they must have felt. Am I being punished for losing perspective? Is this a time of reflection and purification and preparation for the promise land? What’s the bigger picture? Where’s the testimony? Ever since I heard the calling on my life I ask myself questions like these. I’m not perfect by any means, I live out loud on purpose to shed light on modern day discipleship and to encourage others to get on the path and follow after Jesus too. Literally as I write this I’m filled with hope and reminded that God uses suffering for 3 reasons: Correction, Salvation, and Sanctification (perfecting us). I did not deserve to lose my husbands. I do not deserve to struggle so much and have such a rough go-of-it these days. I don’t think it’s for correction purposes because the suffering is not causing me to turn from transgressions (repetitive purposeful sinning). Or maybe it is for correction and I'm being humbled to eventually see it? I don't know. I am saved and share my faith and testimony so I don’t think it’s for salvation. Not mine at least. Maybe for discipleship, the salvation of others? The other reason is sanctification… experiential sanctification. 

I was asked this weekend, "How are you still doing okay? What drives you?" My answer was this: My faith. I am a faith-filled woman and I don't know why bad things have happened in my life. I don't know why I have suffered so much in such a short time. But I do know that he works everything for His purpose, even this. And I know that we are all uniquely made and all have a purpose and maybe this is mine. I told my friend that I have had a unique experience and I know this is my purpose because He told me so when I heard the call 6 years ago. "Be a lighthouse." To me that means shed light, light the path, guide them home. So I do. Even in my struggles and heartaches, even when I fall flat on my face, even when I hang my head as I drag my feet on the path. I'm still walking. Let's walk together.

Hiatus is over. Time to start writing again.

Coincidence...I think not

Just a month ago I wrote a blog post about our struggle with infertility. We had just done one IUI and I was begging God to let this be it. I was asking Him to reveal himself to me, show me a miracle.

Well...I got it. I got lots of them actually. But this is not what I was talking about when I said show yourself to me and do a work in my life. Now that I'm looking back in trying to make sense of it all and it just doesn't make sense but I can see how the pieces fit together now. I can see how God has woven things together leading up to this moment.

I always said I felt like God was preparing me for loss. I couldn't explain it but I had this tugging at my heart for the last 8-10 years or so. I empathize deeply with those who have suffered great loss and I just felt like one day it would be me. I remember 4 years ago, standing in Bub's room folding laundry when he was away at his dad's for the weekend, and I had a conversation with God. That's how our relationship is, I just talk to him whenever, wherever, and then I listen and wait for His response.

So that weekend I was standing in Bub's military themed bedroom, folding laundry and missing him, and I felt a sense of mourning come over me. Not the usual "I miss my baby while he's at his dad's" feeling. In that moment I dropped to my knees and prayed. Bub has always wanted to join the military since he was around 3. I thought he'd grow out of it but he's still all about it and he's almost 13. I don't want to crush his dreams or dictate his life but I don't want to lose him either. He's my only child, the only one I gave birth to. So I prayed that God would protect my baby. I felt confused but I still felt like He was preparing me for loss. I thought it would be Bub, as an adult, from being in the military. Boy was I wrong.

He was working in me alright, but He was preparing me for the loss of my husband, not my son. Have you ever had "Y" moments? Moments when you're faced with a decision and you're sitting at the Y in the road trying to decide which road to go down? I had one of those moments when Mark and I began dating. He worked at Alcoa in Rockdale and we lived in Temple. He would commute to work every day and work 16 hour shifts in 120° heat in the aluminum smelter and then drive home on fumes (exhausted). I was always worried for him. One night he didn't come home. I didn't know if he was wrecked on the side of the road or what. His phone went straight to voice-mail. I stayed up all night worrying and when I was crying in the shower that morning he walked in and asked why I was crying. I was so relieved to see him! He said he pulled a double and then took a nap and his phone died. All I could think was "Thank God you're okay but WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME?!"

He drove me crazy and back then and he had more flaws than I knew what to do with but I decided that I was willing to work at things with him. I loved him deeply from the start and he loved me the same. So I chose him and we committed to becoming better together. Now looking back, I feel like that was a "Y" moment. Like God was giving me a glimpse and saying "okay this is what you get if you choose to go down this road but it'll be beautiful and full of love, or you can go down another road and avoid everything, heartache and love included." I chose Mark. I remember choosing Mark. And if I had to do it all over I'd chose him again every time. Because the love was worth the heartache and the lessons are with the growing pains.

Since his passing I've been reflecting on things and I know He has had his hand on us from the beginning. When we started down our path on the left side of the "Y" he guided my steps. I know the bible says the man is to be the spiritual leader of the home but in our home it was always me. He was a little behind me on his journey of faith but I was within eyesight, leading the way. When he got laid off from Alcoa and was losing himself I prayed for help, for guidance, for protection & provision. I prayed to be led in the right direction. Then I got an email from a principal in Fort Worth ISD asking me to interview for a sped teaching position. Crazy thing was, I hadn't even filled out an application! I agreed to fill out an app and do the interview. I interviewed on Wednesday and got the offer on Thursday. Boom. Done. We put the house on the market the following week and had an offer within a week! I'm not exaggerating, it was that fast. We moved to Fort Worth and lived with my parents while we waited for the house to sell. It didn't. The buyer's loan fell through and we couldn't afford to pay that mortgage plus another one in FW so we rented the house out and rented a house for ourselves in FW.

While in FW I was listening to the radio and heard about a little church that was making big news and decided to check it out (https://www.google.com/amp/s/praisephilly.hellobeautiful.com/318621/church-riles-some-with-jesus-does-not-care-campaign/amp/?client=ms-android-att-us). We LOVED the church. We immediately felt accepted, loved, and inspired. Over the years we became more involved in the church. Mark became a member of the men's Iron Man ministry and I was involved with the Women's ministry. We mentored people, greeted, and served the homeless. Mark gave his life to Christ in 2011, thank God for that.

The years passed and the kids were getting older and more involved in extra curriculars and we needed to be around more, not so much back and forth for visitation. So I prayed and prayed and one day Mark said, "why don't we just move back home?" There it was, my sign, my approval. So I put in applications and did interviews and got on with BISD, my top choice.

While we were here I was moved from school to school and met a lot of great people through work. I needed to start my supervision hours towards my BCBA so I opened up the supervisor registry, picked a name, and called to set up an interview. I didn't know Kristi Tindell from Suzy Q at the time. I taught, worked part time for CTBS, did my master's full time, and had my family and home. My life was full and busy but I was able to do it all because Mark was my partner and he helped me through it all.

Last June I was at another "Y." I was faced with the decision to keep teaching or resign and go into private therapy full time while testing to become fully credentialed.  I'd heard the board exam was hard and there was no guarantee I'd pass. Statistically,  people have a better chance of passing the Bar exam than the BCBA exam. I was scared for our family's financial future and I prayed and prayed and just felt led to jump and trust that we would be alright.

I worried. I stressed. Mark REALLY stressed. He kept urging me to go back to the district. They had benefits, predictable pay, etc. I would apply and appease him but I would always tell him we're going to be okay, just trust. That was hard for him as a man. He did our finances. He knew the kind of stress we were in. But we managed. He worked 2, sometimes 3 jobs (S&W, Uber, and driving a trash truck) and I worked 2 (CTBS and BISD homebound education). We were hustling and staying afloat so everything would remain the same for the kids.

The day he passed I had worked until 6. He only worked his day job (4am until lunch) and went straight to his friend's house. He didn't come home and eat lunch or nap. I never saw him that day, only talked to him on the phone a couple times. That night I got a call that he was coming home. Then another that he left his phone so I went out there to go get it.  If I hadn't gotten his phone I wouldn't have gotten the call that he was in trouble (read previous post for details). He hadn't updated his license since we moved so the police wouldn't have been able to find me that night had I not gotten the call and found him. That was God. He knew I'd want to be as close as I could to him as soon as possible.

He led me down the wrong road that night so I wouldn't see it happen or drive up on it before the paramedics got there. That was God because I even had my GPS on and Mapquest Molly recalculated.

He used the paramedic to pray over him in those initial moments after his death. As it turns out she is the daughter of a coworker of mine and she's a believer as well. Because of our connection I was able to reach out to her and get some answers about that night...and get some peace.

He used the police officer that gave me the news...turns out I worked with him back in 2001 when I interned with Temple PD. He remembered me that night and held me tight when I was literally falling apart. He remembered my family and has been so supportive since the accident.

God used the people He led me to work with to hold me up, check on me, provide for me, sustain me, and love me. For years He has been working things together for my good I just couldn't see it at the time. Although this is not good, and it's not what I wanted AT ALL, I can see the good that went into it and the good that's coming from it and it's beautiful. I keep saying that...it's tragically beautiful. God's faithfulness and provision is amazing and always on time.

Opposite Day

You remember that game we used to play as kids when we would say and do the opposite of what others were saying? We said it was “Opposite Day” and did the opposite just to be annoying (please tell me I wasn’t the only annoying little turd out there)! 😂 I’m realizing that I had it all figured out way back then. THAT’S the secret to success and happiness! Just DO THE OPPOSITE of what you’re feeling!

Feel sad… do something that makes you joyful. Feel lonely… go out and socializeWanna stay in bed all day because you’re sad and lonely… get up and move your body and get out thereWanna be lazy and eat sweets… clean the house and eat fruitDon’t wanna have that talk because it’s scary… just say your opening lines and then sit and listen to the other person and do it in chunks.

I’ve found that when I’m feeling scared or depressed or anxious (or insert negative emotion here) I try not to let myself be led by my feelings. Instead I acknowledge the feeling but CHOOSE to do the opposite of what I’m feeling. Like right now, the loneliness is setting in and it’s hard!!! I want to stay in bed and mope but I’m going to make myself get up, workout, shower, and get out of the house! I know I’m lonely but I won’t be led by loneliness. I won’t stay in bed and sulk. Instead I’m saying to myself, “Yes this sucks. You can cry into your pillow tonight and feel all the feelings later but right now you will GET UP and fight it like the badass that you are!” So I’m doing the opposite in the moment and feeling the feelings when I’ve given myself permission to do so. I am in control of my feelings they do not control me. There’s actually a name for this, it’s called “Acceptance & Commitment Therapy.” You accept what is, don’t try to fake it change it but accept it, and commit to a plan to get through it. *For more info click the link at the end of the blog.

It’s hard. Losing your spouse is hard at any age. Losing a second spouse so soon after the first (I’ve lost 2 husbands in less than 5 years) is definitely rare and SUPER HARD. In some ways it’s easier this time around, in other ways it’s so much harder. 
If I’m comparing losses I feel like where I am today in my grief journey (3 mos. out) is where I was a year after losing Mark. That loss hit me harder bc there was no prep for it and there was trauma involved. It took me longer to process and accept and move through because I had never been through it before. There was no roadmap for me, I had to forge my own path. 

This time it’s different. It’s like muscle memory, learning history. I know what to do and how to do it. I had time to pray and prep while Gabe was in ICU so my mind could wrap around it some. I had time with God and him and I feel at peace now because I got to pray him across and be with him in those final days and moments. It doesn’t change the fact that I think of him everyday but it’s just different. Not bad. DIFFERENT. My heart misses him but feels peace because I know where he is and I know we’ll be alright. 

Maybe it’s God’s way of lightening the burden on my heart so it won’t just explode and die. Whatever it is, I’ll be honest, it makes it hard to be patient with the process and sit in the feelings all over again. Especially when people say, “You’re young, you’ll find love again!” I have my doubts but I’ll be honest, it’s what I want too. I’ve always been a person who craves connection and companionship. I can’t help it, that’s just how God made me. But he also made me a thinker. I’m like a 50/50 split because I feel all the feelings but I think my way through things and know how to manage them. 

I’m really being put to the test because I FEEL confident and further along in my grief journey than my timeline tells people I should be. People think, “Oh wow it’s only been a few months” and judge (positively or negatively) but it’s because it’s outside judgement. They haven’t walked my walk and don’t understand how I could be okay or even thinking about moving forward. That’s what makes this journey harder. My Bub and I have been here before and know how to manage and move through it. The girls have not. It’s new and raw and harder for them. I have to be mindful of the fact that they don’t understand my journey is different than theirs and I have to be empathetic to their feelings and their timeline. 

So for me everyday is Opposite Day. I live in the awkward space I call the “in-between” where I feel the feelings but grieve with joy and move forward. This morning I didn’t want to get out of bed… I’m getting up to workout right now. Sometimes I want to be selfish and do what makes me happy but I’ll do the opposite for the sake of the kids. And everyday I pray for peace with the process and for God to guide my steps and lead me to lead them because I can’t do this on my own.

https://positivepsychology.com/act-acceptance-and-commitment-therapy/

Life Goes On

Today was a long day. Work was busy and I had a presentation this evening so I knew I would be going nonstop until 8. By the time I left work at 4 I was emotionally exhausted from pushing through all day. I’ve learned how to compartmentalize so I can manage my life (side effect of Mark’s loss) so I seem fine on the surface but it’s all underneath. When I push too hard or go for too long it bubbles over. That’s what happened today. Work was good but I had a lot going on in my head and a lot on my to-do list and it was too much for one day. I cried all the way home thinking about dinner and chores and just wanting my husband back.

I got home an emotional wreck just trying to breathe and Abbie had thrown the trash, picked up the groceries and put them away, and she started making dinner. I poured a glass of red wine and we talked and hung out in the kitchen while she cooked and I helped. She has really stepped up and her daddy would be SO proud of her. And it was good!! She cooks better than me 😆 I’m so thankful for her. That was a huge weight off my shoulders today. 

We discussed Alyssa‘a birthday plans. We were supposed to have a quince last weekend but it didn’t happen. Hopefully next year we can have a sweet 16 for her. Either that or a car I guess at that point if she wants it. I miss my girl and can’t wait for her birthday party on Sunday. His family is throwing her a birthday party and it’ll be nice to all have fun as a family again. 

Issac is coming home from his dad’s tomorrow and he starts his senior year on Wednesday. It’s his LAST first day of school. This is definitely going to be a memorable but hard year. I’m so sad Gabe isn’t here to walk through this journey with me. He’s my rock. I’m going to be an emotional wreck. I already am 🤦🏻‍♀️ He was so proud of all 3 of our kids. I am so proud of all 3 of our kids. They have been such troopers through all the heartache and craziness. I can’t imagine my life without them. God really knew what he was doing when he blended our two families together. 

It’s going to be a busy week. Life goes on and right now it feels like it’s going at warp speed. I’m doing my best to keep up. Thank God for these kids of ours! Time for goodnight prayers. Goodnight world. 

Swimming to Shore

For a little bit there I could breathe again. I’ve spent the last year and a half kicking towards the surface, holding my breath and kicking like hell,  trying to break the surface to exhale and then take in the most wholesome, glorious breath. I finally breathed in life again and for the first time in a long time I felt normal again. I didn’t feel like the sad widow. I felt like the beautiful woman who was dating a guy who was crazy about her. I felt confident and more like myself than I have in a long time.

It’s exhausting to always be fighting to persevere, to keep juggling all the balls in the air, trying not to let any of them fall, trying to maintain this life as a strong woman when I really just want to fall into my man’s arms at night and let down my guard. For a little while I had that and I could breathe easy again. I guess I should be thankful for that. For the short break that I had, the life rope that was thrown my way. But right now as I look at my tear stained face in the mirror, my hair a mess and my lips stained with red wine, in my yoga pants and my workout shirt that says “enjoy every moment” I’m finding it hard to be thankful. I’m laughing at God’s sense of humor and the irony of my choice of clothing tonight. I didn’t expect a grief wave to hit me like this when I grabbed my night clothes from the edge of the bathtub where they had been laid the night before.

You know life is funny. You think you have it all and the rug gets ripped out from under you. You think you don’t deserve it and it’s given to you on a silver platter. You think you can’t survive and yet you keep on breathing. You think you’ll never love again and yet you do. You think nothing can hurt as bad as burying your loved one but then you’re left alone by choice and that hurts just as bad whether you want to admit it or not. I don’t know what the meaning or the message is, I’m still trying to figure that out. I wish I knew. I guess there are just some questions that can’t be answered this side of heaven.

I suppose I’ll keep on keepin on. I’ll keep writing letters to heaven and holding my breath for the next time I break the surface again. One of these days I’ll make it to the beach and then I’ll walk happily, the sun shining on my face again. One of these days I’ll breathe in the sweet smell of the sea salt air and the sunkissed flowers and look back at the vast ocean I swam across and be thankful for the journey. One of these days I’ll dance in the sun. One of these days. I’m holding my breathe and kicking like hell until then.

I'll Leave The Light On For You

Something has been weighing heavy on my mind today so, as usual, I turn to writing. I'm very purposeful in the way I live my life. I give a lot of thought to interactions, relationships, choices, decisions. I'm living with purpose and that purpose is to be a lighthouse. I rememeber feeling so peaceful the evening of January 6th. I got home from work and changed into sweats and could smell the beef stew that was in the crockpot. I was so happy to have the TV to myself and to be able to catch up on my shows without Mark stealing the remote. I remember feeling at peace and thinking "I could totally be by myself and be okay."  That must have been the Holy Spirit prepping me.

Fast forward to after the accident. I remember sitting on my couch that night, in shock, with my head in my hands just sobbing, the kind of cry that makes your heart literally ache and takes your breath away. But even in those darkest moments I felt the smallest sense of peace, like a mustard seed.  I remember feeling a tiny bit of peace, and hearing the Holy Spirit say, "Be a lighthouse."  That's it. That's when I made the choice. 

At 4:00 a.m. on January 7th, the morning after losing my sweet husband in a horrible car accident, I chose to walk by faith and to be a lighthouse: to be transparent and shine a light for those that come after me on this journey.  I chose to share the heartache and pain that comes with grief, but I chose to share the good too. The joy that comes on the other side when grief and God collide.

I made a promise to myself that I would follow where He leads and be the lighthouse that he wants me to be. I promised myself that I would not shut out people or experiences because of grief. I promised myself that I would say yes to life more than I would say no. I promised myself that I would take care of myself: mentally, physically, spiritually, and emotionally.  I promised myself that I would share my journey and my testimony with others because I want people to know that you can overcome the hardest things if you keep your eyes on God and just MOVE.  There were days when I didn't want to get out of bed, when I would just cry and pull the covers over my head. But then I would shout to my ceiling, "God move my feet!" and I would put them on the ground and stand up! And then I would do one thing: take a shower. And then the next thing: brush my teeth. Those were small victories during those initial days.

Eventually I was able to do more and more and I relied less on God to get me through each moment of my day.  I gradually felt his presence less and less. I know he's still there but he's like the father teaching his child how to ride a bike. At first I felt his hand on my back as he helped me stay upright, then I felt him close as he ran alongside me and hovered his hand over me to prevent me from falling. Now I'm pedaling on my own and he's that father walking not-too-far behind, watching me with a happy heart and a proud spirit, shouting instructions periodically to keep me on our path and keep me from harm.

So now I'm pedaling along and I've found some great people to ride the race with me. They make it more fun! I'm still on course, I'm still living my purpose and doing my best to honor God, honor Mark's memory, and minister to my family, especially my son. Some days I'm pedaling uphill amd I just want to cry and have someone rub my sore legs, but somedays I'm doing loopty-loos and figure eights on my bike. Overall I'm starting to enjoy the ride again!

So if you see me out there enjoying life and living in the moment, it's because I am. And I can. And I deserve it. When you've walked through the valley you deserve to dance on mountaintops. Rejoice! "There is a time to cry and a time to dance" and by golly I've cried A LOT these past 2 years. Some people don't understand. They think that I'm going out too much or trying to fill a void. It's not that. I'm just trying to keep myself balanced. We all know work can be stressful, raising a teenager (who loves you like crazy but still wants little to do with you because he's a 14 year old boy) is stressful, and managing a household, and car problems, and our entire life on my own is stressful. I have to make time for me to stay balanced. So I'm eating right, working out, and spending time with friends doing things that I enjoy. And THAT'S OKAY.

I won't put myself in a box or hide behind a facade to live in line with what others think I should be or behave the way they think I should. I'm not afraid to live my life and let my light shine. You only have one life to live until He calls you home so make it count. I'm making it count. You should too, regardless of what's happened to you. Just keep on moving. Forward motion. Just follow the light. You can get through your storm too. I'll leave the light on for you.
❤ you all. Goodnight.

Moving On

I haven't written in a while. I've been busy with work and life and buying a house. Moving on. I think he's moving on too.

If you know my story you know how connected and in love we were before he passed. We were so connected that I felt him even after his passing. No, I'm not crazy. Sometimes two souls are so intertwined that they become a part of each other. That's what happened to us.

Mark and I didn't have the perfect marriage where everything was roses and rainbows all the time. I don't know about him but I was constantly in prayer for him. The night that he passed I was talking to God as I drove to go pick him up. I had gotten the call to go get him because he had too much to drink (he was celebrating for me, I had just passed my boards). I was talking to God, asking him to help me wth this man, tell me what to do. "He's a good man and a good husband but I can't keep doing this. Something needs to change and I can't do that, only You can. If I put him out he'll spiral out of control but if I let him stay things will never change. Help me God. Take this from me. Help me wth this man!"

As I was driving I got the call that his name was all over the scanner. I kept driving around looking for him, certain I'd pull up and see him in handcuffs. I was pissed and then this overwhelming wave of nausea hit me out of nowhere. It was so sudden that i looked at the clock in the car... 10:22 p.m. My prayers turned to questioning as I drove. "God what is going on? Why do I feel this way? Please don't let me throw up, I gotta find him. Why do I feel so sick? It's bad isn't it? Please don't let it be bad."

Then I saw it. The tow truck, the wreckage, all the lights of the first responders. As I drove up my prayers changed again. "Oh dear God please don't let it be that bad. But if it is, make it fast. Please have mercy on him. Take him quickly, please don't let him suffer. Oh dear God help me." It was THAT bad. But He made it fast. Instant. I spoke to him at 10, said I was coming to get him,  and by 10:19 he was gone. That sick  feeling I got at 10:22... I think I felt him leave me. I think I felt his soul come untangled, unraveled from mine. We were connected that way.

During the funeral I felt him. I felt like he was right there. After the funeral when everyone had gone mom and I sat on the couch. The pain was unbearable. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't breathe. My heart literally hurt. I was crying and mom and I were talking about Mark and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, her phone says, Hi there!" We both stopped, looked at each other, looked at his picture and urn on the mantle, and said HI MARK! It was weird. The electric energy around me and my house was crazy in those first few days after he passed. I kept getting shocked, lights kept going out in my house, fuses blowing. It was crazy.

I felt him around sometimes. I smelled him 6 months after and accused Issac of getting in his cologne and putting too much on. He wasnt even wearing cologne (I did a smell-test because I didn't believe him when he told me). It was in the air, right there in the doorway to our bedroom. I smelled him. He came to me in a dream and stroked my hair, held my face, and told me he loves me and he's here. I felt him.

When I started dating I prayed to God to protect me and help me guard my broken but healing heart. I talked to Mark and told him I wouldn't be doing this if he wouldn't have left me but I have to figure things out on my own now. I asked for a sign, for him to show me it's okay, I'm okay. I went out with a guy and counted at least 6 cardinals while we were out hiking. They say cardinals are signs from heaven that your loved one is near. Well they were all along the trail as we walked. It was nuts, too coincidental.

It's been SO hard but also beautiful. It's been a process. At first I felt him SO strong and near but over time the coincidences have dwindled down. It's been about 9 months since I felt him last. I think he's moved on. I don't blame him, I'm trying to move on too. He has bigger and better things to move on to. I don't know what's out there for me. It's scary. And lonely. But I know that even if he isn't with me anymore God is. He's always been there through it all. He's protected me, provided for me through work opportunities and friends and family, and He's been my anchor and my stronghold in the storm. He's where my strength comes from and where my hope lies. During my darkest hour, during my darkest days, my eyes were on Him and I worshipped Him despite my circumstance.

And they still are. I'm human. I get angry. I get lonely and insecure and impatient and fear creeps in and floods my mind but I refocus on Him and He continues to get me through. I have faith that He will provide... a man to hold me and love me, a baby for me to hold and love, and many more beautiful memories with my Bub. He will. I've gotta keep movin on.

Sudden-loss Widows PTSD

When Mark and I first met (reunited) I felt butterflies. I felt like I was floating on air. I felt excited to hear from him and I would get giddy and giggly when I would talk to him. I looked forward to seeing him and would worry about him when I knew he was having a bad day or in a bad situation. I cared for him. I cared for him and wanted him around until one day I just asked him not to ever leave again about a month after we started dating. So he moved in and within 6 months we were married... for almost 9 years.

After he passed I didn't think I'd be able to love again. I loved him so deeply and so fully that I wasn't sure my heart would ever be repaired enough to let someone else in. I didn't think I could but I pushed myself to get out there and just see what happens because I didn't want to live the rest of my life on the sidelines.

I've gone on dates but nothing significant, no relationships. Until now. I think this may actually be something. I don't want to put the cart before the horse but I feel myself starting to fall. I feel myself getting caught up, wanting more. I want to spend more time with him, I miss hearing from him when he doesn't call, I think about him and wish him well when we're apart. I feel my heart opening up and it's bittersweet because as much as I want it and want him, it makes me feel that much more frustrated and alone when we're apart.

I think I have sudden-loss widows PTSD. Is there such a thing? Certain things trigger me ever since I suddenly lost my husband. For instance, my guy called me last weekend after going out and I knew he had been drinking. I worried all night, couldn't sleep. When I didn't hear from him the next morning it brought all those feelings associated wth the accident back and then I was crying out of worry for him and crying out of grief for Mark and I was a mess. Of course I kept it all in and played it cool but it really affected me. And there are times I don't hear from him. We're both busy with careers and demands that take a lot of our time. I know that and I understand the constraints that his job puts on him and all that it takes out of him. I know that but my feelings still get all out of sorts when I don't hear from him for a while because it leaves me feeling alone, deserted, abandoned all over again. Ugh I hate feeling this way. I'm a strong woman!

I know it's completely irrational and out of proportion/perspective, but I can't help it. And I don't know what to do about it, how to process it. Do I talk to him about it? Would that make me seem clingy or insecure and push him away? Or would my vulnerability bring us closer? I want to move forward and I think this guy is worth the work it takes to get there but I just don't know because I don't know how invested he is. I knew moving on would be hard but I didn't realize how many challenges I'd have to overcome every step of the way. Ugh this sucks. I hate not knowing what to do, not knowing how to proceed. I hate the vulnerability and risk that comes with giving yourself away to another person who has the capability of hurting you.

It's terrifying but I keep telling myself the payoff is worth it. The risk of being hurt is worth the reward if that means we can make it work together. So I'm anchoring myself in the Lord and trying not to let my fears be bigger than my faith. I have faith that God has big plans for me and this is all part of His plan. I have faith that He will make good on his promises. I have faith that my heart will be okay. I have faith in my guy and trust that he's not out to hurt me considering he knows my story. I just have to trust the process. I have faith and I will take each step forward in faith, PTSD or not. I can do this. I am strong. I am wise. I am beautiful inside and out. I can do this.

No Stranger to the Rain

It's been a year since Mark passed. I planned a celebration of life party and we celebrated his life, my life, & the fact that I made it through the toughest year of my life. We sang and drank and laughed and shared memories. It was beautiful. I thought things were turning around. That was January 6th, with the one year anniversary of his funeral on January 12th.

Then came January 13th... I lost another very special person. My cousin Alex, my first best friend, my partner in crime, my brother from another mother. He was 36. I'm 35. This isn't supposed to happen. We're not supposed to die young. We're supposed to outlive our parents. We often laughed and talked about how we'd be when our parents passed and we were the old ones in Mason with our kids and grandkids coming to visit us. He never got the chance. He passed away suddenly and unexpectedly in his sleep instead.

It hurts. It doesn't feel right to have all the family around and not hear him cuttin up and making fun of stuff under his breath. LOL. He was hilarious. He was always happy, always being silly. It feels like he should be here. It's hard now but I'm okay. Unfortunately I'm no stranger to pain. I'm no stranger to the rain. I'm standing firm to be there for my family in a subtle strength sort of way. They've seen me grieve the unexpected loss of my husband. I hope my walk has left footprints in the sand for them to follow, they're still fresh anyway.

It's a long hard walk, and it's going to get harder before it gets easier, but it will get easier. I just wish it wasn't this way. I wish I didn't know this feeling all too well. I wish they didn't have to know this hurt too. But I remember that the Lord says, "In this world you will have trouble but fear not, for I have overcome the world" (John 16:33) so we have to cling tight to that promise that He will overcome and He'll help us overcome adversity. We must keep our eyes on Jesus and take one step after another to walk out of this alive, not just alive but ALIVE... thriving.

He is the source of comfort, the Prince of Peace, the healer of hurting hearts, all we have to do is lean into Him. It's not easy to do. It's a choice everyday, sometimes every minute. It's easier to stay in bed. It's easier to not go to work. It's easier to numb the pain. But healing isn't found in your dreams, or in food, or at the bottom of a bottle. Healing comes from the Healer.

Like a baby learning to walk, look up, take Him by the hand, and let him pull you up and teach you how to walk. You'll toddle around, you'll stumble and fall. You'll resort to crawling when you're too exhausted to pull yourself up and try again. You'll throw tantrums and cry, begging to be carried. That's okay! If you lean into him and rely on him He will carry you from time to time. But just like we want our kids to become independent, so does He. He wants you to rely on him but He wants you to do the work and fight the good fight and live out your purpose. You still have a purpose here.

Just like a toddler learns to walk, you'll walk again, and then you'll skip and dance again eventually. It takes time, faith, and focus. Just lean in. Lean into your feelings. It's okay to feel. It's okay to hurt. This hurts! You have to feel to heal. Lean in and lean on Christ. Lean on others who are willing to walk this journey with you. Don't shut down and shut people out. You can do this! Fear not! Christ has overcome and you can too.
❤Cassi

Around the Corner

Some days I feel like it was only yesterday that I lost my sweet husband. Sometimes it's as fresh as if it just happened and it's all I can do to breathe and make it from moment to moment.

Then there are times it feels like it was so long ago and I can't remember day to day life with him still here. My life makes sense again so sometimes it feels like it was just a dream.

It was a dream. I had a dream of a love that most people long for, a dream that some are never lucky enough to find. I had that. And now my dream has gone back up to the clouds where dreams live.

If I think about it I can remember the curve of his beautiful lips, the smoothness of his fingernails, the dimple on his one cheek when he smiled. I can remember the way we played footsies in bed and the way he stroked my hair and neck each morning. I can remember the way he looked at me when I was getting ready, like I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on. I can remember his big laugh and the way his eyes squinted and he'd lose his breath when he laughed big.

I remember the way he studied me. I would catch him just watching me or snapping pictures of me like a weirdo. It was like he was taking it all in, every single moment. After he passed I found all the pictures and videos on his phone and tablet. I wished I had done the same because as time goes on the memories fade.

It's bittersweet and proof of God's grace that I'm back to normal again. It's terrifying to open myself up to the possibility of heartbreak again but if I don't I won't open myself up to the possibility of love and that's not something I'm willing to pass on. So I'm taking steps in faith, trusting that God is good.

I heard somewhere that fear is faith in the wrong thing. I don't want to have that kind of pessimistic faith. I want to have faith that my gift of discernment will lead me to let in the right people and that those that I let in have good intentions and will be good to be.

Someone recently told me I need to trust and jump in. When you dip your your toe in the pool it feels cold but once you jump in you realize it's actually warm. That's funny because that's actually something Mark told me when we started dating... "Maybe it's not too good to be true. Maybe the other shoe isn't going to drop. Maybe you need to let go and trust."

So I'm letting go. I'm trusting. Mark's D-Day is right around the corner but so is life and I'm jumping in.

We are celebrating life on his 1 year heavenly anniversary. We are celebrating his life and all he meant to us. We are celebrating the fact that he's home. We are celebrating the fact that Issac & I made it through it and are living abundantly. We are celebrating the life the lies right around the corner.

Be Still

What does that mean? For the longest time I thought it meant be still in action. I couldn't understand how one was supposed to stop pursuing dreams or asking God for what they wanted. How could you just be satisfied with things as they are without wanting more or working for more? How could you be still?? And what's with the last part of the verse "... and know that I am God." I know who you are God, what does being still have to do with it? I never quite understood that verse... until now.

Being still isn't a state of being it's a state of mind.  It's a stillness of spirit, a peacefulness within, the assurance inside that tells you everything will be okay and will work out because God is in control. That's what the last part means. "Know that I am God" and I can handle all things and do all things and work all things for your good.'

I finally feel at peace and a gentle stillness inside. Although I'm not still in action I'm still in spirit and I'm confident and sure of myself again. Last year was hard and I got the rug ripped out from under me in an instant. I lost my footing and lost my confidence but it has slowly come back over time and is now rooted in Christ so it's gentle yet firm, not a flaky confidence that crumbles easily.

I know what I want. I also know what I had and I'll always cherish that. And if I never have that again I'm fine with that now. But that is what I want. I want to have love like that again, or something like it. So in this season of waiting I will be still in spirit and know that God will provide.

But I won't be still in action. I have plans for this new year. My list of goals for 2018 are...

1) Decide on getting a second master's or not
2) Join a volunteer organization in my community
3) Finish my CEUs
4) Finish writing my book
5) Lose 20 lbs (to start)
6) Buy a house
7) Mark's Star trip
8) Dance again!
9) Stomp grapes
10) Go skydiving (iFly first)
11) Play tennis more
12) Go camping
13) Bourbon trail girls trip
14) Disney world
15) Host more game/karaoke nights
16) Get a tattoo
17) Decorate Mark's bar on the patio
18) Finish my 2017 photo books
19) Buy my own kayak
20) Ride a bike again

Sleep

I used to not be able to sleep without you here in bed with me.
I would wait up for you to come home.
I always worried about you...
     If you were okay.
          If you were safe.
               If you were coming home.
I couldn't sleep.
If only I could sleep.

I always tried to wait for you but the hours would tick by.
I would fall asleep but never for long.
I'd wake, stretch my arm to reach for you,
     Check your side of the bed.
          Check the time.
               Check my phone.
I couldn't sleep.
If only I could sleep.

I never could really sleep without you here in bed with me.
But I've learned how to live...
     With an empty bed,
          And an empty house.
               And empty arms.

Now I don't have to worry about where you are.
I don't have to worry if you're safe.
I don't have to wait up or worry if you're coming home.
I know you're not.

I can sleep peacefully because I know...
     You are already home.
          And you're safe.
               And you're in good hands.

I can sleep.
Now if only I could sleep.

Speak To Me, I'm Listening

We're going on a year since Mark moved to heaven. What a difference a year makes! I  don't know who came up with the notion  that a year is adequate time to grieve, there's no time limit or order to processing grief, but there is something to it. I can say I'm doing a lot better than I was 9, 6, even 3 months ago.

There's something about coming up to the year anniversary that shifts things a little. The sting of it is not as strong. The hole in my heart is still there and the loneliness is still there but it's not as crippling. I don't feel suffocated by my grief like I used to. I'm learning to live again, learning to live with the vacancy left by my sweet husband. I'm settling in to my solitude and leaning in to my calling.

When Mark passed I remember making the choice to be the light. It was in those initial days after his passing, before the funeral. I was heartbroken in the worst way. I couldn't breathe, couldn't function, I just kept cursing and drinking to numb the pain. Just recalling that night brings me to tears. It was horrible. But in those initial gut- wrenching moments I felt a tiny sense of peace and the calling to "be a lighthouse" to others in a storm. I responded. I chose to be obedient. I chose to be the light.

Everything I post on social media is purposeful. I didn't over-share because I have no filter. I share because I'm being transparent, because I'm being a lighthouse for those that come behind me. I heard the call and I answered and I hope that I've helped at least one person deal with grief or life's troubles, or treasure life maybe a little bit more than they used to.

We, as a society, don't know how to deal with loss or delayed gratification, and we definitely don't know how to deal with grief. We are so used to having it all, or at least having the ability to get it. We don't like when things are taken from us. We don't like to lose. We give every kid on the team a trophy because we don't want to hurt their feelings. We shield our kids from death and dying because it's sad and sometimes not pretty. We shield them because it hurts deeply and that's scary. So we, as kids, grow up to fear death and when it happens to us we don't know how to deal with it. We've never HAD to. We've never been taught. In other countries they know heartache. They don't have access to medical care or basic essentials like we do and they fall ill and die, or in some countries are murdered, so death is a way of life. They accept it and deal with it and move forward. They honor the dead. We hide from it. We mask it with pills or drugs or alcohol or sex or any other "poison." We don't process and grieve in a healthy way.

I was called to be the light, to be a lighthouse in the storm. In my own pain I surrendered to God and my calling and shared my journey every step of the way. I don't know what's next for me. I feel a strong pulling at my heart to give more of myself to His work. I don't know if that will be stepping out in leadership at church, or writing a book, or speaking publicly. I don't know what that looks like, I'm still waiting on leadership from God to know where to step next, I just know it's happening.

I've felt the calling slowly over the years and then all at once. I've grown in my faith exponentially this past year. But it didn't all happen in one year. When I look back at memories or Facebook posts or think back I am reminded of prayers that I wrote down or dreams that I had that now seem more prophetic in nature than random dreams. Like the dream I had in 2013 (?) when I raised my hands in worship and was being pulled up to heaven. Or the prayer I prayed for God to help me lead and teach others and give me a platform and the words to say (I prayed and posted this prayer back in 2013). Or the blog posts I wrote in years past. All of these things seem to be part of a bigger plan or quilt that's slowly coming together. It's beginning to make more sense.

I'm still on my journey. I still miss my husband deeply but I feel more at peace now. God gave me peace and faith the size of a mustard seed at first but it's grown and is still growing. I'm learning to walk faithfully, not frantically. I'm lonely but not desperate. I'm brokenhearted but not crushed. I'm learning how to be still but moving forward. I'm learning that being still is not NOT moving. It's a stillness of spirit, not action. It's a peace and stillness from within. I'm settling into my singleness and my purpose. Who knows what the future holds; look how much changed in one year! We shall see. I'll continue to go where I'm led. He's never steered me wrong.

"I'm in awe that You would come to me
In awe that I could hear You speak.
Speak to me. I'm listening."~ Speak To Me by Kari Jobe

Homesick

I’m broken now. I wasn’t before but when my world cracked and shifted like the tectonic plates below the surface of an earthquake something in me shifted too. I miss my husband something fierce and I long for the day when I can go home to heaven and be with him again. I’m secretly jealous of those that pass before me, especially when I know they’ll be reunited with their husband/wife in heaven. How beautiful that must be to run into their arms again and be led to the feet of our Savior together! I can only imagine. I’m homesick. 

I’m homesick in the kind of way that a kid is at summer camp. They have fun during the day and enjoy the experience and make memories but they long to be home with their loved ones. They have trouble sleeping at night when everything gets quiet and still and they realize how small they are in the world, how alone they feel. They’re surrounded by other campers, kids their age, but they still feel so alone. That’s when they start to cry and want to call home, if not GO home. 

I’m THAT kid at summer camp. I’m to the point in my journey that I’m experiencing life little by little again and I’m smiling and learning how to live again but when all the world is sleeping my mind races and my heart aches to be home in heaven with my hubby. I secretly wish I could just be done with this life already and get to go home too. And then I feel guilty for feeling that way or thinking that way. Don’t worry, I’m not suicidal, don’t call the suicide prevention hotline on me. I’m not taking steps for it to happen, I’m just fine with it if it does. Not that I have a choice in the matter, but you understand what I’m saying. 

Losing someone close to you makes you face your own mortality and answer some hard questions. Are you ready to go today if He calls you home? My answer is Heck Yeah! Something I’m struggling with is taking measures to prolong life if something was to happen to me. If I got cancer or was in an accident... do I want to jump through hoops and go through the ringer or just live out my numbered days and accept God’s plan and go home if that’s the case? Do I sign a DNR? I want to, but then again I have a son, who will eventually grow up to have kids of his own, my grandkids. Do I want to miss that? Do I prolong life or prolong heaven??

I don’t want to prolong going to heaven. I want to go home! I’m so homesick. I wonder if those that go before us can relay messages to our loved ones in heaven, like a phone call from summer camp? Mark’s Grandma just passed. I wonder if he was there to greet her along with his grandpa, her husband, who passed a long time ago. I wonder if she heard me whisper in her ear to give my Marky a hug and a kiss for me and tell him how much I love him and miss him. I wonder if he got the message. Who knows!?! All I know is they’re there and I’m not yet and that makes me a little jealous. God forgive me for being jealous or envious. I’m just broken now, maybe I’m becoming a little jaded, and I want to go home. “I’ve never been more homesick than now.”

https://youtu.be/qVl6pUc9QdM

Well He Did It Again

Before I started dating in July I talked to my husband in heaven and I prayed to God to help me guard my already broken and fragile heart. I asked that He would send me a man who was a good man, one with good qualities, someone who would run this race alongside me with endurance. Since then He’s made good on His promise to protect me.

I dated a guy for a month and when I was at the point of wrapping my mind around making it to 1st base (I hadn’t even allowed that at first) he lost interest and moved on. Then there was J. We had a good connection and a lot in common. We actually kissed a few times and there were butterflies and I started to look forward to his calls and texts. And then one day he said, “it’s not you, it’s me,” and he disappeared. I took it as another crisis averted, although that one stung a little. Since then I’ve tried to find peace and wholeness in myself and in God and if I’m asked out on a date then I’ll go but I’m not actively seeking it out or stressing about being alone... as much.

Well He did it again. I wasn’t seeking anything out. I’ve been talking to someone and we had planned to go out tonight. I really enjoy his company and our conversations and my mind began to think there might be something more to this. It might be a road worth going down. But then something came up and he had to cancel. I could look at it as a coincidence, just an unfortunate inconvenience, but I’m thinking God is protecting me yet again. I’ve seen the red flags with all of them but I choose to see the best in people and give the benefit of the doubt and I’ve ignored the red flags. Maybe God knows my weakness and He knows I’m not strong enough to call it quits once we start dating so He’s removing them from my path before I get in too deep. He knows I’m lonely and may not have the best judgement right now so He’s helping me out.

At least that’s what I choose to believe. Ask and it shall be granted. I prayed and trusted that He would supply all my needs and He would protect me and He is. Sometimes things don’t work out but it all all being woven together and worked for my good. It’s all good.

Forgiveness

Last week’s sermon was on forgiveness. We read the book of Philemon and learned about God’s grace and forgiveness and our duty as Christians to forgive. We know this, right? Well the action step for us last week was to seek forgiveness from others.  I’ve done a pretty good job of that along the course of my life. I even asked my ex for forgiveness a year AFTER we divorced, when I was finally ready. The only person I felt I needed forgiveness from is no longer here to forgive me. So I prayed about it and I talked to friends and decided to write my Mark a letter, seeking his forgiveness. It’s stuff I already talked to him about during those first days and months after his passing. I’ve asked for his forgiveness over and over since January 6th but I keep asking. Maybe it’s me who needs to forgive myself. OOH REVELATION!!!

Anyway this week’s sermon was on forgiving others.  I knew this sermon was coming so I was trying to mentally prepare myself for what would be asked of me. As a Christian I know what I’m supposed to do, but as a person, a woman who lost her husband to drinking and driving, I wasn’t prepared to forgive yet. Immediately after the accident, within the first two or three days, I reached out to his friends that he was with him that night and told them it wasn’t their fault and that he wouldn’t want them to blame themselves. I said all this, and I meant it, but I didn’t realize at the time that I was speaking from my husband’s perspective, on his behalf basically.

After the funeral I felt myself becoming more angry with them. They were his best friends,  they were supposed to look out for him. I felt like they influenced him in a negative way and they didn’t support his growth, our marriage, or me as his wife who only wanted the best for him. I was always made into the bad guy, the nagging wife, the ball and chain, trying to act like his mama or rain on his parade. Over the years they called me names, said I was stuck up for not wanting to be a part of that scene, said I was trying to change him.  Maybe I was in a sense. I was trying to help him change the bad parts and grow into the best version of himself, the man I always knew he could be.

I have been harboring bitterness and unforgiveness towards them since the accident. Not once have they reached out to me, no text messages, no phone calls, no Facebook texts or messages. They haven’t stopped by to check on us or to see him, his urn, his memorial. I will admit that I unfriended them on Facebook because I couldn’t stand to see their lives going on when mine had been ruined, the love of my life so quickly and drastically taken away. It was too hard and I was bitter. Over the course of this year I have felt myself working through all the emotions associated with grief and loss. I’m processing everything and learning how to live again. I’m learning how to let go of regret, all the shoulda, coulda, woulda‘s from that night. I feel myself getting closer to being able to forgive them.

So after the sermon this week I met with the pastor and asked, “How do I know when I’m there? How do I know when I’m ready to actually say the words to them, I forgive you.”  I’m past the anger stage and the bitterness stage, and I don’t wish anything bad on them nor do I want to seek revenge. I’ve actually gotten to the point where I pray for them. But does that mean I’m ready to forgive them?  And if so, how do I do that? What do I say? What does that mean as far as a relationship goes? Do we have to be friends? My pastor said that my obligation as a Christian who has been forgiven is to forgive those who have sinned against me and to seek reconciliation but it’s okay to have boundaries.  He said that I should just pray about it and ask God to make it clear to me what I am to do. He challenged me to pray for them every day this week.

This morning as I was on my way to work I was talking to God, like I normally do. I prayed for them this morning and then I asked God how I was supposed to make this happen. How can I forgive them after they encouraged him and directly caused his excessive drinking that night which caused the accident?  I know he was a grown man, no one had to force him to drink, he did it to himself, but he was a social drinker. He was the life of the party and everybody loved “Good Time Mark.” Nobody stood in his way over the years. Nobody told him enough was enough. Nobody reminded him that he had a good thing at home and he needed to go home instead of the bar. I asked God “How can I fogive them when they were part of the problem?” And right then and there he put it on my heart. I heard him say, “How could they help him when they can’t even help themselves in that area? Forgive them for they know not what they do.” I remember Christ on the cross pleading to God to forgive those that were crucifying him, AS they were crucifying him. It was during this conversation with God this morning that I realized, they may have been part of the problem but they are battling the same demons that he was, caught in the same parterns. No wonder they never spoke truth to him, they don’t know it for themselves. But when you know better, you do better. So I acknowledged that I heard him loud and clear and said “OK Lord you’ve told me what I need to do, now lead me to do it and give me the words.”

I went about my day and rushed from work to my grief share meeting after work.  I already completed the grief share program at the beginning of the year but I’m going through it a second time just because it helps. But because this is my second go-round, my attendance has been spotty. I’ve only gone to about three meetings. I am in a better place now and I don’t need it as much as I did during the initial weeks and months. I hadn’t been to a grief share meeting in the last three weeks but decided that today I was going to go. I walked in and wouldn’t you know the seminar was about forgiveness. Again, “OK Lord I hear you loud and clear.” So I’m certain I know what I need to do.

I came home and wrote a letter to Mark and asked for forgiveness for all the things I did wrong, all the ways I failed him, especially that night. And then I forgave him for leaving me, for choosing his friends and the party lifestyle over me sometimes, for letting his demons control his behavior sometimes. I forgive him for everything because I love him. And then I told him what I would say to his friends, given the opportunity. I’m going to try to reach out to them. They may hang up on me or slam the door in my face, but I feel like they need to hear it from me that I forgive them and that I understand. I understand that they didn’t mean for it to happen and that if they could take it all back they would because they loved him too. I know how bad it hurts and how heavily guilt weighs on your shoulders. I know the burden that they’re bearing. I’m telling them to lay it down. I wish things could’ve been different but they’re not and they are not completely to blame and I realize that now. I recognize the struggles that they face: the same struggles he did, and now the struggle for peace, the struggle with guilt, the struggle for forgiveness. I see them, I feel their pain, I hear their hearts, & I forgive them.

If you’re reading this... I forgive you. Mark loved you and I love you. Don’t let him go in vain. When you know better, you do better. Do better. Live better. Love harder. Try harder. Do better. It’s all we can do, just try to do better every day and be obedient to our Father in Heaven. I’m trying and I hope you’ll accept my forgiveness and live free in the grace and peace that only comes from knowing Him and walking with Him. I’m free and I’m forgiven and now I forgive you.

Much love,

Cassi

A Date With Myself

I went on a date to the movies tonight... with myself. I never thought I'd go to dinner by myself or go to the movies by myself but I'm doing a lot more these days than I ever thought I could. I used to be so self-conscious about going places alone. I couldn't even go shopping alone when I was in my early 20s but then I grew up and gained confidence over the years. But dinner and a movie, that's different. Those are things you do with other people, typically. Not this girl. I'm transparent and share my story online but in reality I have a few close friends that I actually spend time with. Well tonight my friends had plans so it was just me. So I went to the movies alone.

Being alone gives you a lot of time to think. And I'm always in my head. I'm very self-aware. I think about my future. What will become of me? I have the capacity to love with my whole heart because that's how I am. I give everything at the risk of getting hurt because I feel like it's worth it. I can become invested in somebody that's real and wants ME. All of me. But therein lies the problem.

I'm not sure I'm the dating kind. I'm not the superficial, positive Patty all the time. If you know me you know I'm very positive and optimistic but I'm also REAL. I want the chance to be real with someone and not be judged for it and in the dating world being REAL equates to DRAMA. At least that's what I've gathered. They all want someone who's fun and enjoys traveling and doesn't have the baggage that I have. It's all so superficial!

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm generalizing and grouping all men together but that's how it seems. They want thin, athletic, beautiful, fun, happy-go-lucky women. I don't even know if it matters to have a brain or a career. I'm thinking personality trumps brains. I could be wrong. It's just the vibe I get.

Dating is daunting. I don't think I have what it takes. I'm a positive person but sometimes I'm not. I'm fun and I love doing things but I'm not athletic and toned and beautiful. I don't cross fit. I'm smart, kinda nerdy, a little socially awkward, sensitive, analytical, and emotional. Not in the short fuse kind of way but in the wear my heart on my sleeve kind of way. I don't eat organic and I indulge in the sweeter things like donuts and ice cream and chocolate. And I don't feel guilty one bit!

I am ME and once upon a time he loved me and I liked me. Now I feel like I'm too much. Either I'm too much or I'm not enough. I feel like I'm not enough for the confident, athletic, career types because they want freakin Barbie! And I'm not that. At all. I'm just me. And I want somebody who likes ME and wants to get to know me and spend time with me. I want someone who has the ability to love me, not this superficial crap.

I'm not sure the man I'm wanting is out there. Maybe I had that and I lost him. Maybe Mark was IT. Maybe I just need to get more comfortable with being alone. I guess practice makes perfect so I'll just keep practicing being alone. Maybe the sting of it will wear off over time and I'll become jaded and it won't hurt so much.

That's so sad. How do you not become jaded though? After going through what I have, how do you NOT lose heart and lose hope and lose that sense of innocence and romance? I don't know  I don't want it to happen but I feel things starting to turn. I wish life was like a Nicholas Sparks novel and a new, compassionate love will find me right when I think all hope is lost and we fall in love and spend the rest of our lives together. Where's my Noah? But it's not and my story is still unfinished. The end is left unwritten and I just have to wait and see.

Hugs from Heaven

I've been documenting this year. The good, the bad, & the ugly. One day I'll look back at these pictures and posts and feel... strong? Empowered? Favored? I'm not really sure what I'll feel but I never want to forget the journey. I'll never forget the pain, that's for sure. 

Today has been a rough day. I'm not exactly sure why. I felt great yesterday and this morning when I woke up I just felt... different. The lump in my throat was big. The weight on my shoulders, heavy. I showered to wash it off and go to work as normal but I couldn't shake the feeling. I tried to get breakfast, thinking maybe if I had something to eat and some coffee I'd feel better, but it was hard to swallow with the lump in my throat. I reached out to a friend and said, "I just need a hug," and the minute I hit send a coworker walked in and asked if she could give me a hug. What?!? I'm not making this up. She hugged me and said she just felt like I needed a hug. I broke down crying and she just held me and prayed over me. 

How fast was that?! I needed a hug and I got one immediately after making my needs known. And they kept coming all day long. Multiple coworkers hugged me and held me and prayed over me as they could see I was having a hard day. My heart, though sad and broken open today, was so full! I laughed through the tears and in between crying spells. I left work at 2, so thankful to be going home early. Instead of going home I went to church to sit in the prayer room as I often do. 

I've gone to the church prayer room many times. The only way in and out during the week is through the office. The office staff knows me because I frequently come and go. I wave when I'm coming in and they wave back from behind their desks and we usually exchange friendly niceties as I walk through the office to get to the prayer room. Every time it's no different. Until today. Today I walked through to office doors as usual but the office secretary met me in the foyer with open arms. She hugged me and I fell apart again and she just held me together as I fell to pieces again. How did she know? I wasn't crying. I had gotten it together while driving over there. Why did she come in the foyer to welcome me instead of being in her office as usual? How did she anticipate my needs before I walked in the door??

I held on tight and caught my breath and made my way to the prayer room. I sat at the foot of the cross and cried some more, and prayed, and listened to music, and read the Bible until I fell asleep for a few minutes. My alarm woke me and I needed to go pick up Bub from swim practice so I gathered my wits and my strength and headed back out into the world. 

I don't know why things happen. I ask and ask and ask but as faithful as God is, He hasn't given me any answers. But He has been there for me though it all. He's proven yet again that he sees me and hears me and he's listening and meeting my needs. My faith was getting weak. I was getting tired again. Grief and mourning is exhausting. I had started questioning WHY. Why did He take him? Why did my husband get to live a fun and carefree life and get to go Home while I (the thinker, planner, devout one) am left here to run this marathon of a race alone? Why does he get to go home and I don't yet? I had started to get homesick and was saying things like, 'I just want to go Home. I don't want to be here anymore. Why didn't you take me?' 

It's completely vulnerable and a little embarrassing to admit but it's the truth and I've always said I'd be transparent. This is me. This is grief. This is my life right now. There are good days and bad days. The good have started to outnumber the bad but the bad days still knock the wind out of me and leave my heart cut open. But thankfully, today, I had lots of hugs to hold me together. Thank you friends. Thank you God. Tomorrow is a new day. I'm going to try to get some sleep. Love and hugs to you all. 

Survive and Thrive

My motto for the first half of the year was "Breathe." It was all I could do when Mark passed and there were many times I had to remind myself to just breathe. Now I'm surviving all the firsts without him. I survived the first Valentine's Day without him, first birthday without him, first Father's Day, and now our first vacation without him.

I decided a couple months back that Bub and I needed a vacation after the year we've had so I booked a cruise for us. I knew I wanted to take a big trip but didn't feel safe taking him cross country on my own yet (the movie Taken kept replaying in my head). I figured a cruise was the safest way to go. I could check him in to the teen club and he could come and go as he pleases and hang with kids his own age but we could still eat together and do stuff together. The ship has cameras, security, and is self-contained and all-inclusive so I felt it was the best vacation for us to go on as a newly single mom.

The night before I was making sure the tags were on our luggage and all our documents were in order and I started to freak out a little. I was nervous about navigating the parking/cruise terminal and getting through embarkation on my own. Then I started to get nervous about the alone time I would have on the ship... what would I do when I was alone? Would I get lonely? I started to stress. I did everything I needed to do and talked to friends who assured me that I would be alright so I went to bed with that in my head. "I'll be alright. It'll be fun."

We made it to Galveston with time to spare. Traffic wasn't a bother and I was able to navigate there with no problems thanks to google maps. Issac rolled the big suitcase to be checked in by the stewards and I carried the carry-on bags and we made it through embarkation in about 30 minutes! That was a relief! Then we were on the ship and off to explore while we waited for our room to be ready and luggage to be delivered.

Day 1: Fun & full of excitement. We had lunch on the Lido (party) deck and checked out the schedule and made a plan for the night. We went swimming, got our teeth whitened at the spa, he went back out to the pool, and I had the best 2 hour full body massage EVER. I'm talkin hot seaweed wrap, shower, scalp massage/neck/shoulders/arms/fingers, legs/feet-reflexology, another shower, flip onto your stomach and she does a full body massage from the back, then flip and she does the full body from the front. It was A-MAZING. Well worth the money. She did say she was concerned about the stress knot I have in my neck/shoulderblade area...hmmm I wonder why? Note to self... get simple massages more regularly. Well the massage lasted longer than I expected and we missed dinner in the dining room so we had the buffet instead. Then we caught a PG comedy show and went our separate ways. He went to his teen club and I went to the adult comedy show. We met back up in the room around midnight. I survived Day 1.


Day 2: It was too much fun but it was also setting in that I was alone. Sitting out on the deck I did some people watching. Here's how my day went.

I need a poolchair....there's one, that's all I need. I'll just sandwich myself in between the skinny girl with a cute suit and the other skinny girl with a hot husband. Perfect! I'll take a Mojito please. Hmm, now what? There's lots of couples on the cruise. Newly married couples, boyfriend/girlfriend couples, couples that are getting engaged on the cruise/island, couples that have been married for years... I wanted to be married that long. Ugh. Another Mojito pelase! Oh look, they're selling gold jewelry over there, tax-free/duty-free, maybe I can find a gold ring guard for my emerald ring that Mark bought me. (I look down at my rings and get sad that there's not a wedding ring there). The girl to my right compliments my emerald ring so I tell her thanks, my husband bought it for my birthday since it's my birthstone. She asked if he stayed home so of course I had to tell her he passed and got the "Oh I'm so sorry" reply to which I just smiled and said thank you... another Mojito please! We got to talking and laughing and by the time time I knew it I was dancing on the deck! What sadness?? Alcohol makes me happy! By this time I was burnt to a crisp and had lost count of the Mojitos and my child, who I hadn't seen since around 10 am when he ditched me to run around with friends. I took that as my cue to leave. I survived my first day at sea alone.

I went back to the room to freshen up for dinner (which we didn't make it to by the way... thank you Mojitos). We brought plates back to our room and turned in early that night. Bub was tired from his day of running around and swimming and I spent my evening in and out of the cold shower to feel better.

Day 3: We woke up early to get a head start on the day. We had breakfast and then we were off to Playa del Carmen for our adventure excursion. We had so much fun tubing, snorkeling, zip-lining, but again, there was a hole in my heart and a frog in my throat at times. The constant thought, "Mark would've loved this" or "Mark would never do that" or "Mark would've done..." He's always there, always on my mind even if he's there at the back of my mind. That's just the way it is now. I've come to accept it. We had a blast and got back to the ship and had time to shower and rest before dinner. Bub and I had dinner in the dining room. He was excited to get to eat a fancy dinner and his face lit up when I told him he could order his own appetizer (not have to share a table appetizer) AND dessert. After dinner he went to hang out with friends and I went to the Love & Marriage show (kind of like the newlywed game but with 3 couples: newlyweds, a middle-of-the-road couple, and a long-lasting couple). It was super funny and I identified so much with it. I don't feel single. I still feel married. I laughed and answered the questions in my head as to what Mark would do/say. I felt the lump in my throat swelling again so I ordered... a glass of wine. NOT a Mojito! Not after yesterday. Well, in an auditorium full of people there's bound to be a mix-up. My wine never came :( Oh well, it's probably better that way. I went to the room and turned in for the night. It was after 11 anyway. I survived our day of adventures alone in Mexico!

     

             

Day 4: I woke up around 6 am as usual but made myself go back to sleep. Bub & I slept in until room service came and kicked us out at 11:30. We went to the Lido deck (I did NOT want to go out there in the sun again but that's where everything was happening) and had lunch. He ran into friends AGAIN and we went back to the room to change into our swimsuits and he ran off again. I laid out for a bit, you know, to even out the sunburn, and then got in the pool and people watched and drank pina coladas (something milder than Mojitos). A couple hours out there and I was over it. I went in and went to a show, then back to the room to shower and pack to leave tomorrow. Bub came back to the room around the same time I did and we laid in bed and watched movies all evening, until dinner. We had drinks at the lounge before dinner (he had a coke and I had a Jack & coke) and then we had dinner in the dining room again. After 4 days of running around I think we were both done so we went back to the room for more movies in bed.

Day 5: We woke up bright & early to get our stuff and get off the boat. We had one last breakfast before getting off the ship and making our way through the debarkation process. We made it through customs/border patrol, the shuttle, and found our car in the parking lot with no problem! I survived debarkation! Then we hit the road. I turned my music on and he slept... the whole way... like a true teenager.

When we got home I left all the bags in the car and plopped down on the bed, hugged my Mark pillow tight, pulled the covers over my head, and let it all out. It sucks coming home to nothingness, not having anybody missing you or thinking about you at home, not having anyone to tell all the details of your trip to. It sucks having to vacation alone as a single mom when you were a family just 9 months ago.

It sucks. I didn't ask for this but it is what it is and it's the only life we've got to live so we're making the best of it, even if it means surviving little moments one at a time. We survived. We thrived! We had fun and made memories that will last a lifetime. I loved seeing my boy smile and his face light up with every new experience, every new food he got to eat, sight he got to see. I loved hearing him say, "Thanks Mom, I love you!" I loved bonding with him and sharing a little more of myself with him on a personal level (not too much though, I'm still MOM). I did it. I survived our first family vacation as a family of 2. I feel empowered and exhausted all at the same time. I wish it was Sunday because I need church to refill me and refuel me for the week.

Who knows what this week will hold. It's the first week of school so tomorrow will be back to normal with parent drop-off and pick-ups, dinner, homework, and normal life. Wish us well as this is the first school year from start-to-finish where it's just the two of us. Hopefully he doesn't give me hell about homework the way he did last year when Mark had to get onto him. Hopefully he has his head on straight this year. There's going to be many more firsts without Dad around this year: band performances, homecoming dances, swim meets, etc. but we will survive...and we will thrive!. It's what we do. We are warriors!