Monday, December 28, 2015

Dream On

An Actual Conversation:

Me:  I am so mad at you.

Daniel:  What?  Why?

Me:  You were really mean to me in my dream last night.

Daniel:  That's crazy.  I can't help what you dream about.

Me:  I know!  But that doesn't mean I feel any less angry.

Daniel:  Would some chocolate covered pretzels help?

Me:  Well, it couldn't hurt.

Over the years we were married, variations of this conversation took place on several occasions.  I'd wake up from a vivid dream and inform him of my state of mind.  He'd take it in good-naturedly although I did not always get sweet, salty treats to make amends for his dream actions.  Depending on his mood, he might wink and suggest we kiss and make up or pat me on the head and tell me to get back to him when I was over it.

I remember distinctly thinking, when Daniel died, that at least I would get to see him in my dreams.  I made fantastical plans to spend as much time as possible asleep so that I could still talk with him.  It's been almost a year now, and I have yet to have one single dream of Daniel.

For the first several months, I could not remember dreaming at all.  This crazy thought came into my mind that we were, in fact, really talking together in my sleep, and that for some reason to keep the magic working properly, I must be made to forget the encounter upon waking.

Later, when I started to dream again (or remember what I was dreaming) I expected to see him star in them once more.  Even to hear his voice or see his smile in my sleeping visions would be better than a complete absence.  But the place where he should be remains stubbornly empty.

When Daniel was planning our wedding, he insisted that we get married in our pajamas because he said that our life together would be a dream come true.  In typical Daniel fashion, he was right.  I guess I will just keep dreaming of the being able to see him again, even if it's only behind closed eyes.

I love you Daniel.






Thursday, December 17, 2015

The Dance

An alarm chimes and the dance begins.  Arms outstretched, I reach for you.

Brush teeth, brush hair, brush aside the tears.  Shoulders squared, back straight, my feet move on their own.

Smile for the audience. Go through the motions. I know the steps even without thinking.

Keep my focus on the next move and, for moments at a time, I almost forget that your hand is no longer in mine.

Return to an empty house, but still the dance goes on.  Don't forget to eat.  Don't forget to breathe.  Don't forget to stay busy.  Hours more to fill.

Finally, I lay down.  I close my eyes and hear your song so loudly in my head.  But there is only silence in the room.

Arms outstretched, once more I reach for you.  The lights go out and the dance ends again.  Until tomorrow's show.

An alarm chimes and the dance begins.  Arms outstretched, I reach for you...



I love you Daniel.


Sunday, November 29, 2015

My Favorite Topic

Sometimes it seems like people get uncomfortable when I say your name.  It's like they don't know how to react when you come up in conversation.

I've begun to second-guess myself.  Am I just being a big downer and making people sad at the mention of you when they have to remember you're gone?  I guess it's different for me because I always remember that you are not here.  But it is your absence that makes me sad, not the thoughts of you.

We had so many great adventures and I have so many amazing memories of you, that you are still so alive to me.

I can't help it.  You are my favorite topic. I want to talk about you all of the time. I love it when others remember you and share memories of you with me.  It's all I would talk about if I could.

But there are times when the conversation turns to you and people just freeze for a moment.  It reminds me of the way you used to deliberately say something shocking just to see how people would react.

So babe, you're still occasionally making conversations awkward like you loved to do.  I just bet that makes you smile.

I love you Daniel.



Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Running on Empty


I am so tired.

I go about my day, try to stay busy, want to be a productive member of society... but I feel so damned drained all the time.

Sleeping doesn't help.  Pampering myself doesn't do any good.  Resting doesn't make a bit of difference.

There is no physical reason for me to be so exhausted.  Yet, there is a weariness that takes over that is so absolute that I honestly do not believe I will be able to take one more breath.

Whenever I was feeling low, Daniel would just give me a wink and spread wide his arms without saying a single word.  I would step into them and be home.  My head fit perfectly against his chest and he would envelop me in his arms. Then he'd laugh and say "you're OK, you just need a recharge."

After over a decade together, he still insisted on touching me as often as possible.  He was always holding my hand, brushing his shoulder against mine, and sitting close to me. Even unconscious in his sleep, his feet would make their way over to mine to stay in contact.  I drew such strength from the love that radiated from his touch. There was an overwhelming a sense of belonging and power that came from our connection.

Without that connection, I feel ungrounded.  The emptiness that is left is a leech that drains away hope, purpose, and passion.  I force myself to go through the motions of living, because it is what is necessary- not because it is what I want.  What I yearn for is to close my eyes and feel his arms around me again.

I am running on empty... and I no longer have Daniel's embrace to plug into to recharge.


I love you Daniel.


Saturday, October 3, 2015

The Gift



Daniel, you gave me the amazing gift of sharing your life with me.

Because of you, I will always be able to say I have been loved unconditionally. (*by someone other than those predisposed to love me because we share the same genes)

Because of you, I take the time to stop and laugh when things start to feel overwhelming.

Because of you, I understand the difference between the DC and Marvel universes.

Because of you, I remind myself that mistakes and not being perfect isn't the end of the world.

Because of you, I know what it is like to be held as if I was something precious.

Because of you, I try to remember that I'm not always right about everything.

Because of you, I've been supported, comforted, protected, and allowed to sometimes be weak without the need to have all the answers.

Because of you, I now know that sushi is indeed one of the things that make life worth living.

Because of you, I was able to truly be myself around someone with no barriers or masks or pretense.

Because of you, I've experienced the joy of mattress picnics, choose-your-own-adventure road trips,  google face-offs, dancing barefooted, well coordinated launch day marathons, and steering wheel serenades.

Because of you, I've felt safe enough to give my heart without reservation or holding anything back and just loved someone like crazy.

I am a better person, because of you.  Thank you for being an amazing best friend and husband.


I love you Daniel.


Thursday, September 17, 2015

Put on a happy face

Those of us who are left behind when the love of our life is gone share a secret.  We know that there is a point in time where people are just ready for us to get better.  We know that you care for us and don't want to see us sad anymore.  We also know that it's a real downer to hear how broken we are all the time.

So, we start to fake it.  Here, let me translate for you.

I'm doing good!  Thanks for asking.

I know that it's been almost a year, but I still cried the entire drive in to work today.

I'm really settling in to the new routine/new house.

The place is so empty and I am so lonely.

I am in a much healthier place now and getting out more.

I made it out of my pajamas at least once this weekend.

I'm starting to pick up some new hobbies.

I don't do any of the things I used to enjoy because it breaks my heart to do them without him/her.

In fact, I'm thinking about making a change (going back to school, becoming a missionary, getting a dog, writing a book, climbing a mountain, etc.)

I feel unanchored and aimless.  Life has lost all meaning for me.

Really, I am doing fine.

I am never, ever, ever, ever going to be fine about this.  But I acknowledge that it sucks to bring others down with me, so I am just going to smile and fake it.



I love you Daniel.
I miss you with every fiber of my being.


Sunday, August 30, 2015

Triggers

Anniversaries, birthdays, and holidays;    songs on the radio and people holding hands;    bare feet and bento boxes;    comic books and computers;    mountain views and Marble Slab;    tech problems and toe socks;    pizza and pigtails;     road trips and radio announcers;    foodies and kung fu movies;    Garden of the Gods and the Appalachian Trail;    Middle Earth and mid-century moderns;    German Chocolate and Irish Wolfhounds;    video games and novels;    Kaiser Soze and classic cars;    silly hats and sock puppets;    anime and movies with explosions;    Star Trek and Sunday brunch;    Cowboy Mouth and cooking shows;    inside jokes and internet memes;    penguins and mouse ears;    running without scissors and laughing with abandon;    late night talks and lazy afternoons;    empty bed and empty arms;    the past;    the future...

You are everywhere, so why can't I find you anywhere?


I love you Daniel.


Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Battle Lines

My ears hear my mouth saying that we are ok.  It says how lucky we were to have Daniel for 13 1/2 amazing years and that some people never get to experience in a lifetime what we had for that short, blissful period.  My head nods as my brain agrees completely.  

But my heart is screaming, "NO!  It was not enough... there should have been more time."  My eyes must agree, because they fill up at the thought. 

My heart considers my hands traitors as they to go through the day to day tasks of living- brushing my teeth and driving to work.  They are conspiring with my feet to keep going from day to day.

But my arms are not aligned with them.  They would be fighting alongside my heart if they weren't so depressed from being empty for too long.

My chest and throat are allies with my heart and tighten up in failed attempts catch my breath, that disloyally continues to move in and out.

My soul just sits by staring, like a sad little girl looking forlornly out the window waiting for her best friend to come walking back home.

I love you Daniel.  Today we would be celebrating your birthday.




Monday, July 27, 2015

Mrs. Willard

13 years ago today I became Mrs. Daniel Willard.  In my heart, I already belonged to Daniel, but this made it official.  He was so proud and happy to call me his wife and I was so blissful thinking about spending the rest of our lives together.  I hear some people who say "this would have been our anniversary" but to me, there is no "would have" about it.  Today is our anniversary.  13 years ago, I was breathless at the thought of being Mrs. Willard and today being without him feels like I am smothering.

This is the first anniversary that we have been apart.  I don't get to celebrate today with Daniel, but I am so lucky that he left me with so many amazing memories to keep with me.  When I look forward and think of his absence, that is when the tears come.  But whenever I look back and think of my time with him, it is nothing but laughter.  Daniel made me feel special every day and I did my best to make sure he knew every day how much he was loved.  He was an incredible man who was loyal, kind-hearted, wicked smart, opinionated, funny, stubborn, mischievous, warm, compassionate, and loving.  I was amazingly fortunate to have been chosen by this man to share a life with him. 

Well meaning people tell me that I am young and will find someone else or that Daniel wouldn't want me to be alone for the rest of my life.  What they don't understand is that, in my heart I am still a Mrs.  I am not a single person, looking for a match.  I am someone who was blessed to find the one for me and have already given my heart away.  I am one half of a perfectly matched pair.  I have a husband.  He is just away at the moment, and when I am in his arms again, I will be back home.

I love you Daniel.  Happy Anniversary.



Monday, July 13, 2015

Half a Year


The last time I was truly happy, was falling asleep beside Daniel on January 12, 2015.  Daniel left us at 3:20 am on January 13th.  I thought I would die on that day too.  Each day after, I expected my heart to stop beating.  Yet, each day it continues and so do I.  But I am not living either. 
 Now, I am a ghost haunting this life.  No longer a part of it.  The world has lost all of it's color and I move through the day in scales of grey.  I am just bidding time until I get to see him again.

I know that sounds depressing as hell, even as I type it.  But I don't mean it that way and it's not me feeling sorry for myself despite the tone. I can still laugh with friends.  I can still enjoy time with family.  I still have pride and a sense of accomplishment from my job.  But as great as these things are, they do not come close to touching the hole that Daniel left behind. I just feel disconnected from the people around me.

With the perspective of the last half year, I can finally admit to myself without breaking in to tears that I will have a life without Daniel.  I know that it will be full of people who love me and that there will be good times to come.  But I also know, in my heart, that it will forever be in the shadow of what was and will always be compared with what can never be.  

Six months in when people ask if things are getting easier, it is hard to answer.  The truth is that yes, it is getting easier, but not in the way that they mean.  I don't miss him any less and I am not starting to move past the loss.  It is just easier because I am coming to terms with the fact that this is my new reality.  I won't ever again feel the way I did when Daniel was with me in this lifetime.  Whether it is 40 days from now or 40 years, the next time I will be truly happy will be when I am with him again.


I love you Daniel.



Saturday, July 4, 2015

Fireworks

My family's Independence Day celebration in 2001 was set for less than a month after my first date with Daniel.  Even after that short of a time together, he wouldn't stand for the thought of spending an entire day without me.  But family has always been very important to me and besides, I had a new little nephew to cuddle.  So, that is how Daniel managed to get invited to meet my entire family so quickly after we met.

Some people would be nervous about this relationship milestone, especially coming so quickly.  Others might be focused on the best strategy for making a good first impression.  But my Daniel never tried to be anything but himself- and true to his nature, he was mainly interested in making me smile.  That's why he showed up to meet my fairly conservative parents wearing a top hat covered in patriotic flags.

That night as we sat together in the dark holding hands, even the loud and bright explosions in the sky couldn't take our attention away from each other.  And over a decade later, Daniel was still the brightest thing in my universe.  In the 13 1/2 years we were together, I felt fireworks every single time he held me in his arms.

Tonight, the sky will light up again.  People will be with their loved ones and look up at the display in awe.  Life goes on.  But I am missing my light in the darkness.

I love you Daniel.


Tuesday, June 16, 2015

It ain't easy being green

I've read about the stages of grief and thought I knew what to expect.  Imagine my surprise when I never really experienced any of the things that I had prepared for.  Denial?  Nope, I was there when it happened and the reality hits me every single day.  Anger?  Not so much.  I know Daniel would have moved the moon and stars to stay with me if it was in his power.  Bargaining? What would be the point?  Depression... well maybe a bit of this one, though I would call it more of a profound sadness.

But I do find myself experiencing a new phase of my grief journey.  Some days I trade blue for green.  That is to say, as I start to get out more and interact with others, I feel myself battling sudden bouts of jealousy.

Recently, I went to one of our favorite restaurants.  I feel close to Daniel in some of our old haunts.  As I sat there eating alone, my gaze landed on an elderly couple leaving their table after enjoying a meal together.  As he held her chair back from the table for her, I felt such a flood of envy knowing that Daniel and I will never have the chance to grow old together.  I wanted so badly what they had.

Going out with friends offers more of the same.  It's really nice to catch up with their lives and have a chance to talk a bit about Daniel and how much he made us laugh.  But I always feel apart from the group.  I look around at these young couples with their entire lives ahead of them just waiting to be spent together and I am so jealous.

Living with this little green monster is new to me.  My life with Daniel was everything I wanted.  I was so content.  In fact, I almost felt guilty for being so blissfully happy.  I never looked at others and wished for what they had.

Without him, I can't say that anymore.


I love you Daniel.


Saturday, June 6, 2015

Waiting

14 years ago today I was sitting across from Daniel on our first date.  Daniel loved to celebrate all kinds of anniversaries and could tell you the dates for the first time we talked, held hands, kissed, bought groceries together.... and June 6th never passed without him doing something sweet for me.

He loved to say 6-6-01 at 8:18 his life changed forever.  It technically should have been 8:00 but I was running late.  It became a trend in our relationship.  Not necessarily me running behind schedule, although to be honest it happened quite a bit.  No, I mean Daniel waiting for me.  He was always patiently waiting for me to catch up to where he knew we were meant to be.

5 weeks after that date he told me he loved me and I said "thank you".  Instead of being upset that I didn't gush out a love you in return, he calmly explained that we were meant to be together and I could take all the time I needed to discover that.

Six months to the day on 12-6-01 he asked me to marry him.  He told me that he knew at the end of our first date that he would spend the rest of his life with me but he just needed to give me time to catch up.

That is why I know that he is waiting for me now.  Time and again he has proven how stubborn he can be in his belief that we'll be together for always.  I've just fallen behind again for the moment.


I love you Daniel.


Saturday, May 16, 2015

404 Error

Imagine that you sit down in front of your computer and type in a web page that you've been to hundreds of times before, but instead of that familiar site popping up you receive the dreaded 404 Error. The message tells you that what you are looking for can not be found.  You can reload the page as often as you want, but the same stubborn error reappears each time.

Perhaps it shows the geek in me but every time I look for Daniel and realize he isn't here, 404 Not Found pops into my head.  Daniel spent a good deal of his free time in front of the computer in our study.  He loved to read web comics and play video games.  Most of the time I was right there beside him. Sometimes though, I would be in our bedroom across the hallway reading or something and he would close the door to keep the noise from disturbing me.  When I walked by to get a drink I would always peek in and blow him a kiss or ask if he needed anything.

I keep the door closed now.  This way I can imagine that he is still there, sitting in his favorite chair, guarding the flag from the enemy troops.  If I concentrate hard enough I can almost hear that full-throttled laugh that is so familiar to me floating through the door.  I pause outside sometimes, hand on the door knob.  I know if I open it what I will find.  But as long as it is closed, I can pretend for a few moments that my heart hasn't been ripped from my chest.

At night when I lay down to go to sleep, I close my eyes so tightly.  I turn to face his side of the bed and reach out.  If I don't peek, I can almost trick myself into believing that he is right there with his fingers inches from mine.  But when I open my eyes, it is always the same thing... Not Found.

I love you Daniel.


Friday, May 1, 2015

The girl in the mirror

The girl in the mirror looking back at me is wearing a Metallica t-shirt.  I don't expect this and it catches me off guard for a moment.

You see, we're experiencing a bit of an identity crisis together - this mirror girl and I.  I never know what I am going to see when our eyes meet.

Today, she is snuggled into one of Daniel's old t-shirts.  I never really liked Metallica.  I prefer what Daniel calls "happy, peace loving hippy music." But I sure did love it when Daniel sang to me.  I always knew I could put on Astronomy and he wouldn't resist singing along.

I was always my true, best self when I was with Daniel.  He was mine and I was his.  Together we were amazing.  Without him, I no longer feel like myself.

Now I am trying on these new roles.  Brave, Stoic, Responsible, Together.  But I know, I would not be these things if Daniel was here.  In his arms, I would be able to be weak, sad, and broken.  Then he would use his "radio announcer" voice in an overly dramatic report of my problems until I broke out laughing so hard that the tears changed magically to joy.

It occurs to me that Daniel will no longer be here to tell me how much he loves to see me in pigtails.  He won't point out how cute it is that I insist on bare feet at all possible times.  He won't beg me to say "worcester sauce" because the way I mispronounce it is just so adorable.

Like all of us, I am perceived differently by different people.  To Daniel, I was this cute, funny, smart, amazing person.  I can still wear pigtails and go barefoot but his Amy no longer exists. Because he is no longer here to have her reflected through his eyes.

We hear that grief gets better with time.  That someday we can get back to ourselves.  Yet this kind of loss cuts too deep to not change us.  I don't think that the pain ever really lessens.  Time just gives us a chance to forget what it felt like before we had the scars.

I love you Daniel.


Sunday, April 26, 2015

Messages from Daniel

I started this blog to write about all of the things that surprise me or seem most absurd about the grief process.  I consider myself a strong, logical person so all of these crazy thoughts felt like they were coming from someone else.

But as much as I miss Daniel terribly, there are so many happy memories that he gave me.

I was going through some old text messages from Daniel recently.  He showed me every day how much he loved me and often when we were apart he would text me with declarations of love. Messages from my Sweetie are on the left side and my responses on the right.


Daniel was always a big romantic.  He loved me even when I didn't "get it" right away.


But it wasn't all just romance and poetry.  Sometimes, he used math to prove his love for me.


That's not to mention, the coding language of love.


So, how do I keep going without him?



I love you Daniel.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Zombie Brains

I often joked with Daniel that should a zombie apocalypse occur, he should simply let the monsters eat me.  Because, I'd teased, I would not want to live in a world without internet connection.

Even so, when I woke up recently to find that the cable and internet was no longer available to me, I had only myself to blame.  I'd seen the disconnect notice.  I had plenty to cover the expense.  There'd been more than enough time to call and make the payment.  I simply did not.

You see, most all of our bills are automatically drafted from the bank.  But this one bill had been causing Daniel problems.  For the last several months he would call them and ask why the debit had not come out, and every month they would apologize and say next month.  He'd just spoken with them the week before he passed away and had to pay over the phone.  Apparently, they still hadn't figured out the billing issue.

Now it just felt so overwhelming to deal with.  A silly thing really, but in my mind it became a monster problem.

I find it strange how grief works.

In the days after losing him, I was devastated but still was able to coordinate notifying our friends and loved ones, finding a funeral home, planning a service, writing the memorial notice, and even accommodating out of town family members.

But now, months later, there are times that something as simple as deciding what to have for dinner is a mental hurdle far too large to navigate.

Last week, I wore Christmas socks to work because doing laundry was out of the realm of possibilities.  I guess that even though I may have escaped the fate of being zombie chow, my brain is still being eaten up.


When I was laughing with Daniel just a short time ago, being here now dealing with the grief of losing him seemed as likely as living through a zombie attack.

I love you Daniel.


Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Missing Love Actually

I'm not a superstitious person.  I haven't read my horoscope since I was in my teens.  When I see a penny, I don't pick it up so that I will have good luck.

So, I'm definitely surprised by my sudden bout of...   unusual thinking.

It all started with Love Actually.

You see, Daniel and I have a Christmas tradition. Every year, we watch Love Actually together.      Every. Single. Year.

Except this past Christmas.

Something kept coming up and then the season was over and we'd missed it for the first time.  19 days after Christmas, my darling Daniel was gone.

So, the idea started floating around my head that there was a connection between missing the movie and losing Daniel.  It was my fault for not making sure we watched it together.

Now, the flood gates have opened.  Suddenly, I've started all these little rituals and my brain is making crazy connections.

Things like.... if I don't say "I love you Daniel" out loud at least twice a day, I will lose my connection to him and won't be able to find him again when I pass on.

Logically, I know these things are irrational.  But I still keep thinking them.

So...  it may be possible that I am going crazy.  But, I think maybe I am just missing my love, actually.

I love you Daniel.


Saturday, April 11, 2015

My husband is not a cat

Ok.  I know for a fact that my dead husband has not come back to me as a cat.  I just want to get that out of the way right up front.  No need to start calling the men in white coats just yet.  

But...     
sometimes, at night...      
when I am alone...

I start to think strange thoughts.  They go like this.  "Hey, I am sad and this cat seems to know when I am the most sad and immediately runs up to comfort me.  Maybe Daniel is here trying to make me feel better."  Of course, my brain knows that Daniel has not borrowed the cat's body to come up and purr me to sleep.  Definitely not.  

But the cat does seem to be somehow possessed to act very differently than her norm.  I should explain a bit more for this to make sense.

Daniel and I got Seffy, our cat, when she was a kitten 10 years ago.  Since then, we have seen her roughly 30 times.  Months would go by where the only way we knew she was still around was because her food bowl needed to be refilled or the liter box changed.  I do not exaggerate when I say that the only real proof of her existence was the fluffy grey puffs of hair that floated its way into the dust pan on cleaning days. 

Yet, since the moment I returned home from the emergency room on the night Daniel left us, she has been very attentive. And, when I am feel most like I am going mad, there she is... rubbing against my arm and rumbling softly.  How does she know?

This has been going on for months now.  Today I realized something.  I was sitting alone thinking of him and she ran right up to me.  "This is nuts," I thought.  Then it hit me.  

I'd sighed his name.  

"Oh Daniel," I whispered.  And... in an empty house these are the only words that have been spoken in hours.  So, this cat is not being enthralled by my husband to comfort me in his absence.  But instead, these periodic utterances during times when I am most lost have broken the long silence and called her to me.

I love you Daniel.