Texas

The boys and I took a trip to Texas to visit my sister Bethany and her family. We had such a lovely time there. We went to Enchanted Rock and took a trail around it, instead of hiking to the top like we did the last time. It was beautiful and sunny!!

  

The kids always have fun climbing anything they possibly can.

We were on the lookout for hearts on the trail. We found several! 

Mackayla had my camera for a while and I love seeing what kids take pictures of!

  We went to a Nature Center in Austin and that was pretty cool. There were lots of fossils, bones, and rocks to check out. There were also some animals which were fun to see. Matthew wants a pet roadrunner now.

We also needed to refuel at Gordough's

We spent a lot of time just being together at home. There was plenty to do. The kids played in the pond and the pool. They loved on the chickens and goats. We wandered around the property. And played some video games. Our last day there, Sean and Mack played in a tree for a couple hours. I sat near them and it was such a calm and pleasant time. We also enjoyed some stunning sunsets from the deck.

   

  

While I was at the airport on the way down, my sister Amy texted me to tell me a good friend of hers died suddenly that morning. She immediately helped her friend (a brand new widow) in a similar way that she helped me right after Jon died. We talked and texted often while I was in Texas about the first week after Jon died, about how being a new widow is terrible, about steps that needed to be taken during the first bit of time after. I had just recently joined a group called the Hot Young Widows Club and it has been a nice community to be a part of, even though I wish I wasn't a part of it. I told her that might be a place for her friend eventually. I reminded her of the support group I take the boys to. I was glad that in some small way, I could share some (hopefully) helpful information. Isn't that part of humanity at its best: Being able to help carry each other's burdens? I know I have benefited so much from others' kindness and when I am able to help someone else, I feel more connected to them. I've said it before, and it's still true...The connections I have with people are what make my life so beautiful and rich and fulfilling. I'm so grateful for my people. 

Ramblings of a Suicide Widow

I realize that Jon was an adult and an independent thinker and allowed to make his own decisions and that all his decisions didn't need to revolve around me. However, I really wish he would have taken the time to consult with me about what was going on. There was one conversation we had about 1 or 2 months before he died during which he said he was going through an existential crisis and wondered what the point of life was. We talked for a bit that night and I told him we give life meaning in whatever way we choose. I realize his mind was probably affected by Lyme disease (this is what I'm choosing to believe because it's the only thing that makes sense to me), but I still wish he would have talked to me more. I don't think he exhausted all his options to find joy or happiness or self worth or whatever it was he needed. He could have seen therapists or other doctors to figure out what was wrong. In fact, he was about to set up a sleep study to figure out why he wasn't sleeping well. 

Anyway, bottom line here is that I'm upset. We made so many decisions together and this was a pretty big one and he had to realize how much it would affect me. I think in a marriage or partnership like we had, it's important to talk about how your actions are going to affect the other person, and the whole family. I'm mad I was left out of the loop. I'm mad he didn't try harder to figure out an alternative solution to whatever was bogging him down and took him to such a terrible place that he felt death was the only option. I'm mad I didn't get a kiss goodbye. I'm mad he made me a single mother. I'm mad about a lot.

The compassionate part of me feels differently, but today I'm mad.

Half of a Year

It has been 6 months since my husband's suicide. Half a year. We have celebrated several holidays and birthdays without him being with us. We will celebrate what would have been his 34th birthday next month. My children have lost teeth, grown taller and wiser. I have taken trips I would have loved to share with him. I have taken a trip that was completely for me. I have laughed and cried. Gotten drunk and high. I have put up walls around my heart. However, my heart is also more sensitive to others' pain and I find myself sobbing for strangers' losses. I have seen the goodness in people. Their willingness to offer support to my family has been a testament of humanity at its finest. I have connected with people on new levels. I have reconnected with old friends. I have kissed and been close to a man other that my husband for the first time in 12 years and liked it.

What I have come to believe is that connections are powerful. The people in my life make it beautiful. The family I have has been incredibly supportive. The friends I have take time to be with me. The people I meet in support groups understand my journey. And most importantly, my children keep me focused on what matters most in life. Each person that has shown up for me in their own way has enriched my life. I know I am not truly alone.

I feel like I have come a long way in the last 6 months. Initially after Jon's death, I was a wreck. I couldn't eat or sleep. I still occasionally struggle with feeding myself and with sleeping, but I'll take improvements as they come. I couldn't participate in conversations well because my mind couldn't hold onto thoughts for very long. That still happens, just not as often. Please forgive me if I completely lose my train of thought while we're talking or if I zone out and have to ask you to repeat what you said. 

I'm so glad I had people here helping me for the first month or so. It would have been much, much worse without support. During the first couple months, so much made me cry. Which I'm fine with, truly. It was a severely traumatic event in my life. Crying is a release for me, so I didn't typically try to stop the tears. I let the feelings come naturally. I didn't want to bottle anything up just to explode later. And not all the tears I shed were in sadness. Many were in overwhelming gratitude for the kindness shown to my family. There was also plenty to make me smile and laugh. Silly trips to buy underwear, inappropriate jokes about death, spending time with family and friends. Now I feel like I don't break down in a teary mess as often. It still happens, but I feel like I have "ripped off so many band-aids" early on by facing things I knew would be hard, that now they hurt less. Things like watching our wedding video, and other home movies. Listening to songs we used to sing together, or just songs I know carry a lot of emotion. Watching movies I know will break me. Visiting the place he shot himself. When I can go into something I know will be hard on my terms, it makes it easier to handle. At least for me. The times when I'm blindsided by a memory have been harder to deal with. For example, Halloween morning, I went into the closet and started cleaning a few things out and saw where the gun he used was stored. I collapsed and sat and cried for a looooong time on my closet floor. I ended up texting with my sister in law for a while and she encouraged me to "come out of the closet." She said that everyone was waiting for me to do that anyway. It made me laugh and was just what I needed to change my focus and carry on with my day. 

Early on, I had so many questions and kept searching for answers and something to make sense as to why Jon chose to end his life. I've been able to come to terms with some things, but not everything. However, I don't obsess about it anymore. I know some questions won't ever be answered. Other answers won't change the reality of him being gone anyway. 

I have been able to enjoy the present moment more. I used to worry so much that it robbed the joy from what I was in the middle of. I still do it to some degree, but I have learned that there are no guarantees about how long any of us will be here, so I just need to enjoy what I have now. 

There is no perfect way to grieve. Am I sad enough? Am I productive enough in my day to day life? Am I moving forward too soon? Not soon enough? Everyone's journey is their own. I feel good about how I'm doing and that's all that matters. I feel good that I can smile, and laugh, and cry, and make lunches for my kids, and talk to strangers about Jon's death, and offer support to others. I feel good that I haven't given up.