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“Do you ever think you’ll get remarried?”

“Are you dating?”

“Are you gonna date?”

It seems like from the second I became a widow people started asking those questions.

Honestly,  I found them completely rude and inconsiderate for a very long time. That is not a subject to bring up to someone who has just lost their best friend. However,  it has been 2 and a half years,  so here’s some thoughts on the matter:

It’s my life.  I’ll share what I see fit when I want to share it.  That’s not meant to be ugly in the least,  it’s just exhausting to field those questions from my children let alone every well meaning person who knows our situation.

Yep, my girls even ask.

All the time actually.

They wanna know if God is gonna bring them another daddy. Not one to replace their daddy in heaven, but one who can be a physical daddy here. One that they can see and hear and hug. One that will not die while they are little. A daddy like other kids have. It’s not fair that other kids have daddy’s and their’s is in heaven.

Those are all their words, not mine.

It breaks my heart. 

They had something so extraordinary that they long to have it again. I know that we had someone so wonderful that no one could ever fill his shoes.

So,  here’s my honest to God thoughts on dating and marriage to all you who are on the edge of your seats,  biting your nails and awaiting some great wisdom.

In cases such as mine, I don’t believe in soul mates. I believe God sends us people who will make us better just for knowing them. I believe that not everyone is meant to be in your life forever.  I believe that God has got my life in his hands and if there is someone out there for me and my girls that he’ll show up in our lives when he shows up. I’m in no rush and I’m certainly not looking.

Besides, I’m at the gym 3 days a week (I’m actually on a treadmill as I’m composing this), school/work 2 days, dance class 2, gymnastics 2, soccer 3 and at church related functions at least 3 days every week. That’s way more than 7 days a week. Mr “Future Dad/Husband” better show up at one of those places if he wants to catch me. ?

So,  if you know someone who’s lost their spouse or divorced, don’t ask them when they think they’ll be ready to date again.  I promise you,  it’s probably the last thing on their mind. If it’s in the cards for them,  it’ll happen when it happens and when they are face to face with the right person.

My world is very loud these days.

Whether it’s from a television, a radio, children…. There’s always noise.  There’s laughter, crying, lots of whining, but not much silence.

Even in the silence,  my brain can’t shut off. “What should we do? Will LuLu get through a whole day without a meltdown? Will the playroom EVER be clean?”

Then there’s the questions and thoughts about my life.  “Am I living the life God wants for me? Tomorrow I will eat healthier. I will lose the weight I’ve gained, but do I really care?  Will I continue to be lonely?  I’m happy, but could I be happier?  Do I really want to bring someone into our lives?  God, just point me in a direction please. I just don’t even know where to begin.”

Even silence is deafening.

My ears will start ringing as the thoughts just keep flowing.  It helps to write them down,  but they spew out faster than I can think to grab a pen. Then, once I do, they’re gone and I can’t remember what I wanted to write.

I believe I have a best seller in my head,  but it just gets jumbled up with everyday noise.

The times I do slow my thoughts down enough to pen them,  I don’t want to share. I know I have a God given talent when it comes to writing and I want to help others struggling with similar circumstances.  However,  sharing my thoughts makes me more vulnerable to my already close knit community.

Just because I write about it today,  doesn’t mean I want to talk about it tomorrow.

It just means that now, at this precise second,  these thoughts need to be released and once they are I’m free.  Free from the noise they are making in my brain.  It’s just one more traffic jam in my head that’s clearing up.  The ringing slows and,  for a minute,  there’s silence.

Until the next thought, that is.

Ever have one of those days when you’re perfectly fine? You get up, get the kids to school, have a perfectly normal day at work, then BAM!, out of nowhere you have an anxiety attack driving back to the office after lunch.

That happens to everyone, right?

You get the urge to scream, but you can’t and you don’t know why. You’ve been fine. Sure, life isn’t all you’ve ever dreamed, but you’re managing. Or, are you? BOOM! In sneaks all your insecurities, all your fears, all the conversations you’ve had with your children where you were perfectly level headed, until that drive back to the office. Now you’re all alone and your thoughts can get the best of you.

The night before, your 7 year old tells you someone told her that one day, Jesus would come back and bring her Daddy back with him. She is very confused by this. You try to clarify, but all your 3 year old hears is that Jesus is bringing daddy home. She proceeds to jump up and down on the bed exclaiming how she can’t wait and how she hopes it’s tomorrow. No amount of explaining can convince her that her Daddy won’t be coming home tomorrow.

You cry yourself to sleep.

Your alarm goes off. You don’t know what day it is. You struggle to get out of bed 45 minutes later, yet still have a great morning with your children and everyone gets to where they need to be in great spirits.

You interact with people all morning. Work is hectic, your office is a bit disheveled from being so busy, but your fine despite the crazy. In fact, the crazy is keeping you sane! The less you can think about home, your kids, yourself the better. But, that didn’t last forever.

Images of that precious baby, bouncing on your bed in excitement creep in when you’re alone. And that, my friends, is what causes you to cry so hard in your car that an hour later your eyes still burn.

Just a typical day in the life of the grieving. They’re not all like this, but they want to be. See, it’s never ending. You hear a girl yell out Daddy and turn to see an embrace that your children don’t get. It’s unfair. Death is unfair. Being a single mom is unfair.

Life is unfair.

Listening to other people complain about petty things makes you wanna explode. Stop complaining and do something!

You just don’t get it unless you’ve been there. Don’t tell someone who’s grieving to “get over it” or “time heals” because it doesn’t work that way. You never get over it, you learn to live with the pain and the healing part, well that depends on the day. When you lose a part of you, it causes you to rethink everything about yourself.

Who are you? What do you do now?

The answers to those questions depend solely on you. As much as you want someone else to take the wheel, you are ultimately in control of your actions. No one can, nor should they, tell you how you should be.

As for me? Most days I’m fine. I get by. But, I never know when that MACK truck of emotion is going slam into me and make me a basket case. I hate it, but I’ve come to terms with it. Life is what it is. You just have to take it minute by minute and know that, one day, that “BAM” moment might just be a good surprise.

Kelly

“Blessed is the one who preserves under trial because having stood the test that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him” … John 1:12

Starting over. Starting from scratch. New chapter. New beginnings. Fresh start.

No matter what you call it, it’s still unknown and unpredictable.

Some crazy college kids…

 Jayson and I met when we were 19. We were best friends from the second we spoke. He had to move home for a semester for a shoulder surgery (he totally separated his shoulder playing FLAG football!!) and I drove 50 miles each way just to hang out with him.

He, however, persued me. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, nor did I want one. But, Jayson was the kind of person who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Eventually, he always got what he wanted. And, although I knew from the moment we met that I would marry him someday, he still had to convince me.

It’s always been hard to get my head and my heart to agree. I’m stubborn. I don’t always believe what my heart is trying to tell me.

So, fast forward 14 years and that fun loving, spirited, stubborn girl is now wiser, a single mom of 2, still fun loving and spirited, but a little broken.

Where do I go from here?

Well, let me fill you in on a highly guarded secret : I am clueless.

Shortly after Jay’s death, I feel the Lord opened my eyes and heart to the promise of new possibilities. Although, my head said “You are crazy. Do you actually believe YOU can find THAT again? You had it, it’s gone, deal with the fact you will be alone forever! No one wants your baggage!” I don’t feel those are Gods words though. Those are words of fear, words coming from not knowing what’s in store and maybe being fearful of the future. It’s way easier to shut everyone out and completely live inside yourself then it is to open yourself up to new possibilities, new beginnings.

For a while I felt extremely guilty. Why was I even allowing myself to think of ever dating again or eventually maybe even falling in love?

I started dreaming of Jay. The dreams were so real that when I woke up, I couldn’t see reality. Waking up alone, raising two girls by myself, dealing with everyday issues without him, that was the dream. Those dreams of him by my side made it really hard to cope and even function for that matter. I felt crazy.

I finally got up the nerve to tell one of my girlfriend’s and we both prayed for the dreams to stop. Funny, huh. All I’ve wanted was to have him back, go back in time, but now I’m asking God to take him away.

Well, the dreams stopped and with them came a sense of relief, but the guilt came sneaking back in. Satan likes to hold things against you. He wants you to be miserable, not God. Guilt for no reason, is not from the Healer, but from the enemy. So, I fought it.

I’m a fighter, so it seems.

Like I said, I’m still trying to figure out if I really believe what I say that comes from my heart.

Then, 2 days ago I dreamt of him again. This dream I knew was a dream, though it was so very real. I went to bed with thoughts of “what ifs” dancing around my brain. “What if I found someone? What would that look like? What would people say? Do I care what people would say? What about my girls? How would that work?” You get the point…. When I finally fell asleep, Jayson was there. He told me I had to let him go. I cried and said no, but he insisted. He said that God was waiting on him and he really wanted to go, so I had to let him. Then, we were at our sitters house (she promised J she’d take care of “his girl’s,” all of us). He just stood over her for a second, I don’t know if he spoke and I couldn’t figure out if she even knew he was there, then he climbed a ladder and disappeared.

I woke up with the most peace I’ve had in a while. I don’t know if that was God or J or my subconscious, who knows, but I’d like to think it was God allowing J to reassure me that we will be fine, that I am OK.

I smiled all day. I was giddy with the thoughts of new possibilities, of opening myself up again. I’m not saying I’m looking by any means, but if God presents someone to me, my eyes are open. I can’t get my head to agree with that, but my heart says, “why not?”

I’m working on believing what I say. I’m working on listening to my heart. It’s been 9 months and I’m still standing, so I guess I’m doing something right. Starting from scratch is scary. It’s unpredictable and I’m terrified. However, the possibilities are endless. It’s a beginning of a new story and I can’t wait to see how it plays out.

Kelly

Our stories make us stronger… All aboard brave souls. We move on, but we never, ever forget.

*I wrote this a few weeks back. Just waited a while to post it.*

Today I did something big.

People congratulated me and seemed more excited at my accomplishment than I was.

It was very strange.

I made 2 ladies cry as I explained how I came to this point. As normal, I kept a straight face and told them it’s OK, that the girls and I have adjusted to life without any major complications. That this was all part of God’s plan and that we are moving forward.

As I walked out of the bank, I held back my tears. This was a huge deal, but it was so bittersweet not to have Jayson there smiling back at me and say “we finally did it. We are debt free.“

So, I celebrated, alone.

My shindig included a takeout lunch of a chicken baked potato and a sweet tea. I was gonna splurge on some banana pudding, but they were out. Then my day of putting away mounds of laundry scattered throughout my house was put on the back burner so I could catch up on Once Upon A Time, take a nap and eat way too many Hersey’s Nuggets with almonds. That was followed by a rush across town to pick up my girls because I overslept.

I guess you can call that a celebration of sorts, or maybe that’s just how I cope.

See, that was the last thing on my list. Jay and I were very prepared for the unthinkable. We discussed, in detail, what we’d do if one of us unexpectedly passed away. We knew who we’d name as beneficiaries, take over raising our kids, had enough life insurance to pay all our debt and then live a comfortably modest life. I told him that I’d want him to find love and be happy. He told me he wanted me to be sad and miserable forever. I laughed. He said he wasn’t kidding (he had a great sense of humor).

I have officially fulfilled my end of the deal. All of it. And, although I miss him dearly, I know he’ll always have a huge chunk of me that he took with him. I’m not saying I’m healed, far from it really, but I see now that God has plans for my girls and I that I would have never foreseen. Who knows, as a sweet friend recently said to me, “our husband’s could be in heaven looking down and playing match maker.” It’s a funny thought that makes me giggle every time it crosses my mind.

Now, all I have to do is raise my girls the best I can, try to find some time to figure out who I am now and hope I can clearly hear God’s instructions on where to go from here.

Easy peasy, right?

Kelly

Picture this:

You are traveling for the first time by yourself on a plane with two children, 7 and 3. Not only are you worried about them having meltdowns, but you yourself are scared of flying (well, take off and landing).

First flight is a dream. Smiles, laughter, looks of approval from other passengers. It was glorious!

Then, your well planned hour and a half layover is in a tiny airport with wall to wall people and no where for the children to run off energy. Not only that, but the little one (who hates to poop and waits until the very last second to tell you she has to go) starts screaming and crossing her ankles. So, off you run to the only bathroom, which by the way, only has 2 stalls and there’s 10 people in front of you.

What then?

Well, the small child poops her panties and you have the 7 year old hold up a blanket to cover said child while you clean her off and put on a pull up in the middle of the terminal. You clean your hands the best you can with a wipe and try to cover the smell with lotion. The smell doesn’t come off your hands though.

Now you are boarding the plane and the 7 year old exclaims she has to pee.

Of course she has to pee now! Why wouldn’t she have to pee NOW?

But, you don’t have time to run back and wait in line, so you tell her to wait till you get on the plane. However, the plane is packed and she can’t get back to the bathroom, so she has to wait until you get in the air.

Can you say turbulence?

Yep, that’s right. You are now sitting next to a crying child who can’t move because if she does, she’ll wet herself. Then the panic sets in her eyes and you are no longer afraid of the wrath of the flight attendant, you run your child to the bathroom only to find the flight attendant sitting by the door and telling you that you’re supposed to be seated.

Then, it happens.

You start balling like a baby. Big, ugly sobs. You apologize and try to make an audible apology, but all that comes out is something about just trying to hold it together on your first trip without your husband because he died and she was about to wet herself….He gets up and grabs tissues, you send your child to the potty and here comes your other child running down the aisle.

You cry some more.

You all return to your seats, with the box of tissues because the flight attendant insisted, and you continue to cry.

Your bag is now filled with tissues and the youngest starts screaming she has to poop. Dear God, let’s not repeat this, you think to yourself. Then you smell the poo and the child knocks her water into the floor soaking the bag under her seat which belongs to someone else. You choose not to tell the bags owner and hope he doesn’t notice until you are long gone.

The flight attendant offers you different varieties of adult beverages multiple times. Then your youngest starts screaming like someone’s trying to kill her. Flight attendant comes back by to offer you some wine.

You get off the plane with a smelly, sleepy child, frazzled nerves, dirty princess undies in your bag and pretty sure your hand still smells like poo.

You cry again because you are so glad to be off that God forsaken Hell plane. Then you cry some more because you see your late husband’s mother and sister on the other side of the terminal.

Everything is much better after that.

Laugh if you must, but I totally lived this today on a flight from Kansas City to Albuquerque. Your day doesn’t seem so bad now, huh? Good! Glad I can help!

Kelly