shoes

The house is finally starting to come together, babe. I was trying to get everything ready for Kirk and April's visit this weekend so I got to take some pictures of a few rooms that are mostly complete. 

I'm heartbroken that you can't see it but I'm so much more devastated that you aren't here to visit with your family. I know you would have been so pumped to have them over.

This afternoon while I was putting things away, I organized all the shoes in the coat closet. I came across the shoes I wore on November 9th. I remembered because they were gold ballet flats I bought at Target or something, and I was freaking out on the phone trying to find something, anything, to put on my feet and get out the door and that's all I could find. Then I remembered the toes were worn out and my feet were freezing - at some point that night, the girls loaded me in the van and were taking turns rubbing my purple feet and covering me with blankets.

I don't know if I've worn those shoes since. Either way, it felt so strange to see them today, so foreign. Like the shoes represented a different life. And even though I think about you constantly every single day, I felt so disconnected from the shoes and that day, still unable to process it as a reality of my life. The horror of it all flooded back to me, though. The panic that set in while I was frantically looking for shoes felt fresh. So entangled and so separated.  I've come to realize so many things about death is ironic.

I knew I needed to get rid of those sorry excuses for shoes, but they were hard to let go of. Everything that makes me think of you is hard to let go of.

I miss you terribly, baby. I wish you could hold me tonight.

I love you with all that I am.

This week, every time I log into Facebook, I see an alert on the side that says 'Your anniversary with Jeremy King is Tuesday.' Thanks, like I needed the reminder. Things have been going along alright for the most part, no big days to be anxious about lately. But it's been weighing on me and I'm hoping to just get through all these first without dwelling on them because it's too painful. Hopefully Tuesday will go by quickly.


I felt like you were inside my head today. A few conversations I had I could literally hear your voice and response in my head. I would have never admitted it to your face, but it's amazing how much influence you have on my thoughts. Enough that I think you'd gloat about it.


You would have been proud of me today, I spent the morning - no wait, most of the day - putting together the desk I bought for the kitchen. But it's perfect and I love it. I keep pretending that you're just away on a trip and I'm scrambling to get things done to surprise you when you come home. I want you to see how hard I've worked and notice the little details (after I point them out to you, of course). You were always so genuine in your praise to me, I think I may not have appreciated it's value completely until now. I miss that. I miss you.

I love you always and forever.

Keep Holding On

Last week, I shared my story out loud for the first time, in front of a bunch of teens. When I was asked to do it, I was so anxious about it. I can write any day of the week when I have no topic to worry about, but as soon as I have to write something, or speak about something, I can't. So we decided to do a Q&A interview style about my story and how I've come to see God through the experience of losing my love.

I don't remember a word I said.

I remember crying. I hate crying in front of people so I thought I could hold it together. Nope. I read this blog post out loud which was very hard. I remember feeling like I didn't say what I wanted to say and said things I didn't think I'd say....it was a jumbled mess. I was just praying that something good came of it.

I realized it was hard to describe how I've seen God at work through all of this when I'm not really sure. Have I seen God at work? Yes. Without a doubt. It's ironic to feel God's hand guiding me through such a painful experience that He didn't prevent in the first place. It's hard to be a role model when I feel so unworthy of that title. It's still a struggle to choose to keep going some days. I'm making a mess of everything, I'm still angry sometimes, I don't feel qualified to tell people to hold onto God in the storms of life because it will all be ok. What do I know? Right now, it's not ok. I've never really talked to my friends and family about how much I wanted to die those early days. I realize most people feel that way after losing someone close and other widows understand the idea of wanting to die and knowing you'd never actually make it happen. But I would pray for God to take me every night. I prayed for my plane to crash. I prayed for God to just take me and the kids so they wouldn't have to grow up without me and we'd all be one big happy family in Heaven.

What I wanted to tell those kids was to just keep holding on. Hold on to God even when you don't understand why. I don't have the answers, and maybe I never will, but I can tell you I haven't found a better alternative for God. He's there seeing you through your darkest storm. I'm holding on to God even though my faith is not my own right now. One day it will be again, but right now my faith is for my children because I know they need me.

And my faith is for Jeremy, so I know I can see him one day again. Every time I start to throw in the towel and yelling and screaming at God, I swear I can hear Jer saying "Just hold on baby. I promise it will be worth it."

Right now, that's good enough for me.

Faith

I think Faith was really missing you today. I took the kids out today to get stuff for the house (which I have been putting off cause it's tough to do all that running around with 3 kids) and Faith told me she had a dream about you. She said she dreamed you were working on her play structure and you stayed up all night to finish it. I told her that if you were here, you would have.

Then, she kept telling me she thinks about you when she puts her seatbelt on. I thought it was strange at first, but it all came together. She's been very proud of the fact that she can do it herself now so she does (which saves me some time packing em all up). I kept telling her that she was such a good helper to me and I was thankful of everything she does to help. She said 'I know, when I help you it makes me think of Daddy.' And you were always good at reminding her that it was her job to help me. And she does, baby. She's just the greatest little girl. And I think it makes her proud to know that she's making you proud. I know you are.

Tonight, I let her have her magnadoodle in bed. When I came out of the shower she was yelling that she wanted to show me something. She drew a picture of you with D-A-D-D-Y on top. She draws you all the time but I could feel how much she missed you today. 

I'm glad you meet her in her dreams, babe. I hope you'll continue to do so.

I miss seeing you in my dreams.

I love you more than life.

Here she is painting the wooden picture frame you picked out for her at Christmas

Ironic

Since just after Jeremy died, I've been writing on his Facebook wall every night. Partly because I wanted to let others know how I was doing, but mostly because I still desire to end my day with him and I wanted to remember some of the day-to-day things that I would normally talk about with him. It's been therapeutic and I've realized I now can't go to sleep without writing Jer first.

The problem with Facebook is that I only get 1000 characters to talk about my day with him, or to write what's on my heart. I write him messages as well, but 1000 characters is rarely enough space to get everything out like I want. I've been debating transferring my good-nights here, where I have unlimited space, the option of adding relevant pictures, and the added benefit of supporting my family with every person that visits this blog. Plus, they're easier for me to archive here. I've been thinking about doing it for over a week now, but the change scared me.

Ironically enough, Facebook is down tonight. And I can't sleep without saying goodnight and wrapping up my day with Jeremy. So, I guess I'll take it as a sign to start the switch now. To anyone who might be reading along (which is fine btw) I will try to still link them on Jer's page. And those of you who aren't following me on FB, you'll be seeing a lot more of me now and maybe hear a little more than you might even prefer from me.


Baby, I wanted to tell you that even though it's Tuesday (I think anyway, I never know what day it is anymore) I was aching for Saturdays this morning. At one point I was laying in bed with all three of our children and had to turn away and cry thinking about how we used to spend our Saturdays. If we had no plans, we'd lounge around in bed and eventually the kids would come in and bug us to play, so we'd wrestle in bed and I swear without fail you would always seem reflective and say something about how beautiful your kids were and how much you loved Saturday mornings that started like that. The way Faith will lay next to you and stroke your cheek or hold your hand. The way Caleb will look in your eyes and tell you how much he loves you. The way Carter fits snuggled on your chest. Sweet family moments I will forever cherish.


I tried to soak it in this morning for both of us. Tried to reflect on those rare moments and see what you saw. I see it baby - they're precious and beautiful and I love them more than life. I will do what I can to protect them with every source I have available.


I miss you baby. I miss rolling over on Saturdays and you still being there. Okay, I miss that everyday. 
I love you always and forever.

Surreal

I don't want to say much, I just wanted these photos to remember our trip to Jer's grave last week. The kids finally got to bring some things for daddy...they chose love balloons and put their names on them. Such a surreal place to be.

Life happens

I was walking to the car the other day after grocery shopping and had this sudden, eye-opening realization. Wow, I can't believe how much life has happened to me in the last 7 months. I mean milestone, remember-for-the-rest-of-your-days kind of life. It just suddenly occurred to me and I couldn't believe how much I had been through: I had a baby, bought a new house, travelled all over the place, and had some life changing experiences along the way. The most shocking revelation about the whole thing was that I did it all by myself. 


Then this whole spiral of thoughts flooded me. I did it all by myself. Even though I will never be the same, I will survive this. I did it all by myself. I'm a lot stronger than I realized. I did it all by myself. I'm so weak and still feel like I'm falling apart all the time. I did it all by myself. I don't want to go through life all by myself. This thought hit me hardest.

So much life has happened and all of it is because of Jeremy.  I often fantasize about what my day would look like if Jeremy was still here. But everything would be different. None of the great things that have happened would have occurred if he were still alive. But I pretend. How incredible life would be if Jer were here: I feel like I would be in a pretty great place. Funny how one factor is removed and everything crumbles.

Life keeps moving forward. I have no choice in the matter. All I know is even though I'm in it, it still feels like it's all happening around me. Like I'm watching everything go by while I go through the motions. Some days are fine and I get by, but I still feel so lost and when I put my head on my pillow at night and finally get a few seconds to myself, it's like a stabbing knife wound reopened every time.

How did I get here? How did this become my life?