Saturday, February 20, 2010


The one year anniversary of the beginning of David's eternal life. I don't have words for what it is like for me right now. So, I decided it is time to share one of those AMAZING stories from this journey. I think I will start with the end. Odd I know, but....
Many of you may already know this but here goes anyway. Somehow David knew when he was not going to be able to communicate anymore. His last words to me were "Get a Garmin, buy a beach house, I love you." For those of you who know me, I have absolutely no sense of direction. I think I may even have some kind of directional impairment. It was my habit to get lost often. Once cell phones became a part of normal life, I no longer had to stop and call David from a pay phone to ask how to get to where I needed to go or how to get home. It did not matter where I was, he could get me where I wanted to go. Even if I was in another city or state other than the one we were currently living in, David could help me figure out where I was and where I needed to go. Part of this skill had to due with the amount of travel he had done when he worked for American Golf Corporation. I merely had to spot a golf course, note the name and make the call. I honestly think he knew where every golf course in America was located. His directions NEVER failed me, not even once. Perhaps he had secretly implanted some kind of chip on me that enabled him to locate me no matter where I went. Seriously, how could he always know right where I was and how to get me to where I wanted to go. I bought a Garmin shortly after his last day on earth. Every time I use it I wish it was him giving me the directions. I guess in a way it is. True love is knowing someone so well and loving them so much that you tell it like it is, tell them what they need the most and seal it with love. I am so blessed to know for sure how much he loved me, not only the last day he spoke to me, but every single day of our days together.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Maybe not one you want to read - rated sad

I have avoided blogging recently. I don't want the world to see me as a sad person, but XXXXXX I am in PAIN. I am OK with anyone who wants to stop right here and not read on. Click away.

Lots of people have asked me to blog about my feelings. I try to highlight the funny or the deep or the thoughtful, but February is nothin but pain. God (and I do mean God) I miss him so much. February 25th will be one year of life without the love of my life. Valentine's Day will be my last first. In grief recovery (oxymoron by the way - there is no recovery) we talk about all the 1st you have to face after a loved one dies - the 1st Christmas, the first wedding anniversary, the 1st time the loved ones birthday rolls around. My last first will be Valentine's Day. Please put me in a comma that day! In fact just put me in a comma now. I walked the mall for exercise last night and stupid pink and red stuff is everywhere. Over and over my heart was attacked and bashed to pieces. I am not going back to the mall to walk again until March.

Here is one of the things I am facing for the first time in my life, OK one of the millions of things I am forced to face for the first time in my life. I have a prayer I know God will say "NO" to. I prayed it last night, cried it for hours last night. You may be saying to yourself "Oh Robi God might say "Yes" or "wait." No, he won't. I begged God last night ( and many nights before) to bring David back. I just want him back. But, I know that is not going to happen. David is gone and his body is now just ash. Please don't try and tell me, "Well you will see him again someday." I know that, but I want him now, like I have never wanted anything in my life. I hurt, all over, all the time. Sure I put on a good face, keep busy, try to be nice to everyone, but inside I am as raw or maybe even more raw than the day he died. I loved him for over 25 years and frankly one stinkin year doesn't begin to make it any better.

Let me say at this point to my readers - no worries. I am safe. I have surrounded myself with friends and professionals who are looking out for me. Really, I am safe. But trust me safe does not always mean OK or doing OK or pain free.

Anyway. I wrote on David's facebook while I was at the beach not too long ago, "Missing you at the beach. Missing you everywhere I go. Twenty-five years of marriage was not nearly enough. Eternity in heaven will make up the difference. Meet you by the gate. Bring JP (our dog who died a few months after David.)

I am not OK. I will survive. I am in pain. I will feel better another day.

There are so many wonderful things God has blessed me with in the past year. He is not going to answer my prayer and bring David back. There are wonderful things to come. Today, the truth is I loved someone with all my heart and when he died, my heart ..... I can't even put words to it, but it hurts, bad. Deep pain can be evidence of deep love.

Believe it or not, I still recommend you love deeply.

My Valentine's request. If you love someone, make sure you have a will and life insurance. If you are a man married to a woman and you don't - you do not truly love her. Nobody knows the number of days God has in store for them. The death of a husband is horrible enough. I can't imagine, but I have witnessed, what happens when a husband dies without a will or life insurance. Please, take care of the ones you might leave behind. The pain alone will be enough to deal with and survive.

Happy Deep Love Day. Consider the true meaning of love on February 14th, not just the colors, flowers and candy.