That day

This past weekend I attended Camp Widow for a second year in a row. Last year, I was 2 months out from Stevens passing and was in a complete fog. How I found the camp is beyond me. I am a resourceful person or what I can admit to be as a bit of a "google whore". I don't like to sit and wait around for answers, for something to happen. I want to know when and how and where and who it will happen. So, last year I went. I don't think I took much from the classes, but what I did take was an entire new group of friends. A group of women, and some men, who were widows. A group who just get it. 

This year, I got much more from the classes then I had in the past. I was open to help and ideas. I wasn't just looking for people to relate to anymore. I was looking for insight. As I could sit here and share each and everything I learned, which I will eventually, I feel the need to do something I have never done. It was something that I was told I should do in each session of camp that I attended. Share my story. Share that night. SHARE. Not for anyone else, but for me. Get this day that I have relived over and over in my head each and every day since Steven has been gone, on paper. So, his a heavy heart, this is what I will do. Just another stage in this grieving process.

THAT DAY

The boys and I had left for Williams, CA on Wednesday night of that week. Bryce's godparents Marcie and Eddie live there. It is a 7 hour trip. Why I went, this is something that is hard to go into. That weekend of Stevens accident, was the first that we didn't have plans in a long time. The timing worked. So the boys and I went. I was NEVER spontaneous, never did things without planning. I am a planner by nature. So for me to just pack up the boys and go it alone was very unlike me. But I was looking forward to a road trip with the boys and a break.  On our way out of town, we stopped at Stevens work so we could say goodbye. He kissed the boys, we said bye, too stubborn to kiss goodbye, and left. That night I drove about 5 hours and stopped at a hotel, alone, SO unlike me, and we hit the road the next morning. Thoughout our 4 days with family, I didn't speak to Steven often. He called and talked to the boys a bit and that was the extent of it. We were married. We argued. Normal. I was frustrated, he was frustrated. With Steven we fought hard, but we loved even harder. Looking back, I could slap myself for the meaninglessness our argument held. But, none the less, it was what it was. 

On the day I left to come home, I had stopped at an indoor play place in Sacramento for the boys to release some energy before the ride home. I had decided to drive it straight through because I would have my "cousin" Nathan with me. He was 16 at the time and could keep me awake. It was the start of his summer vacation and the summer before his senior year. In need of a little guidance, he was going to come stay a week with us and get in some good "guy time" with Steven. While at the indoor play place, Steven called. He wanted to talk and he wanted to talk NOW. It was loud and noisy in the play place so I slipped outside. I didn't understand why he wanted to talk NOW. We were always good at figuring out issues face to face. But he was adamant. Ok, so we talked. And it was probably the best conversation we had had in a long time. He listened, I listened, and we were ok. At the end of the conversation, we both said, "I love you" and we were really looking forward to all being together again and getting back in track. The boys, Nathan and I hit the road. I had text with Steven a few times throughout the day to update him on where we were and how the drive was going. I have never gone back and looked at those messages. They are on my cell phone that I shut off and never turned back on again. I have it just in case I want to go back there, but for now, Im ok not. 

The called Steven right before driving through the Grapevine. I called to let him know where we were. It was raining hard and I had wanted him to know we were about to go through the hills. He told me he was at my parents for Family Dinner which we have done every Sunday night for the past 5 years. I laughed considering Stevens family wasn't there and that he didn't care. My parents gave Steven his choice of dinner and of course he wanted pizza. Steven was surprised how close we were to being home and he told me he was going to head home to finish up some laundry and pick up a little and he would see us there. I said ok and I also was the first to say, "I love you" which I hadn't said in a few days first. 

That was the last time I spoke to Steven.

I don't know how long it was once I had been out of the Grapevine, but I can drive by the point on the freeway and tell you right where I was. I got a call from Sandy, Stevens step mom. She told me I needed to pull over. I panicked. In my head, Im thinking ok, something happened to Grandma Susie? (Stevens great grandmother). I think I may have even asked if it was her. She just told me to pull over. I  did and got out of the car and that when she told me it was Steven. I curled up at the back of my car, on the side of the freeway and was sick. I didn't know if I wanted to vomit or scream but I couldn't think. My body went into survival mode. From this moment on, I was never and will never be the same person I once was. Sandy had told me Steven had been hit on his motorcycle and I needed to get to Inland Valley Medical Center ASAP. By this point Nathan was at the back of the car with me as well. Poor kid was at a loss for words. As soon as we were back in the car, I was calling anyone I could. I needed answers and I needed them NOW. I wanted to know where Steven was, who was with him, what happened. I was driving and having Nathan call. We were also getting calls. Nathans mom Macie was calling and checking on us, my Aunts were planning on meeting us on the freeway so one could drive my car and the boys and the other could get me to the hospital. I remember stopping, I don't know how my Aunts found me but the next thing I knew I was in here car, on my knees on the floorboard of the passenger seat praying that God would not take Steven from me. I offered God everything I has not to take my children's father and my husband. I would give up anything. I was on the phone constantly with someone at the hospital. My mom, dad, Robert, Sandy, Jessica, Jeremy anyone. Each time no one knew how he was, the doctors were still working on him.

The moment I knew Steven was gone was when people stopped answering their phones. I remember yelling at my aunt, "Why have they stopped answering?! Is he gone?!!!" She didn't know. Of course. When we pulled up to the front of the ER I don't think my aunt even had time to stop the car. From here on I feel like this was all an out of body experience. I jumped out of the car, leaving my sandals in the grass and ran into Roberts arms. It was 11pm. Steven was gone. He held me as I screamed and yelled and fought it with all my might. This was not happening. He was not gone. But he was. And al RObert could say was, "Im sorry."

---Mental break needed---

Infamous Status Update

I did it. I did it for me. Not for anyone else. I update my Facebook status. Dun... dun.. dun! What does this mean? It probably means more for me then most. What does it not mean? Again, probably more then more. For me, it means I have found someone amazing. I have found someone willing to come into this family with his whole heart and fantastic intentions. It means that he has accepted my ups and downs. It means more then he will ever know. What does it not mean? It does not mean I am done grieving. It does not mean that I am forgetting what I had with Steven and moving on with my life. I am not moving on. I am moving forward. He will forever be a part of this family and Travis has accepted him from day one. It is a complicated mess, one I never wish upon anyone. But it is also a reminder that there is hope. There is still love and passion in this world and there is still so much living to be had. I am grateful for this man willing to walk this journey with me and support me through it all and none the less, love me.

1000 things to say

I have over 1000 things going through my mind. Feelings, emotions, ups (not many) and down (so many more). I cant seem to get them organized enough to put into writing. I feel like this is going to end up coming out like throw up all over paper. A big nasty mess, not of food, but of emotions. I think Ive avoided thinking about the coming of thi day so much that it has literally hit me like a tidle wave. One minute Im sobbing and the next I feel like a zombie staring off into space. Space that I cant figure out. Depths of life that I cannot concieve. The "whys" jut seem to encircle my brain without an ending or an answer. It is emotionally draining. I cant stop thinking that a year ago right now, Steven had no idea he was near his last breath. With the anticipation of his family just a few hours away, he had no idea that he would not ever mak it home to see us. He had no idea he would be fighting for his life. These thoughts play over and over in my mind like a broken record. I can only pray that the next few days are not the same. Luckily, I dont seem to have much memory of the days, weeks, and some months following Stevens death, so Im hoping I can continute making this new normal for us without reliving last years horrible summer. Tonight, we will go to the corner where the accident occurred and light some candles, hang a cross and pay tribute to the man I once, and still call my husband. Something we didnt do before. Something that was too hard at the time, and is still hard today. Each one of these steps, I pray for closure, closure in a book that will never end. I love you Steven. I miss you more then my heart can describe, but I also know you are in an amazing place, smiling down and will be the first to greet me when its my time to take my last breath.

1 year ago today...

One year ago today was the last time I saw Steven. One year ago today, I stopped at his work so he could say bye to the boys as we left town to visit family. One year ago today, I was too stubborn to kiss him goodbye, which would have been my last chance. One year ago today, I hit the road, alone, on a road trip with the boys, stopped at a hotel, alone, stayed overnight, alone, never knowing it would be my first of many to come. Never knowing that in 5 days, he would be gone. I cant stop living in the "one year ago today" moments. I cant stop tracing my every move, ever minute of one year ago today. If only I would have turned around and decided against this trip, if only I would have done this, that or anything, he would still be here. Would he? Would he have been taken whether I was here or not? Was it just his time? I will never believe it was his time. He was no where near done living. We had so much living to do. I cannot wrap my head around one year ago today. How one decision can change the course of everyones lives. I wish I could ask him what he thinks of his boys. I wish I could ask him if Im making him proud. I wish I could ask him if he was ok with the decisions Ive made so far. I wish for more then just a genie in a bottle could grant, but if I had one wish, it would be to hear him walk through the door again and to see Bryces face. Tonight at dinner, Bryce stated that when he sleeps he has his daddy to play with and when hes awake, his daddy is gone like now. It broke my heart. I felt his pain. And when you know your child is in emotional pain, your pain is unbearable. I want to keep pain at a far for him for the rest of his life, yet I know this is not possible. For now, I will continue living "one year ago today" until I can escape it. The only way I know how to do that is to keep busy, play with the boys and live. LIVE.

Its been almost two months. A lot can happen in that time. And a lot has. Yet as I approach this next month, I feel the need to crawl into a hole and wait out the storm. Bryce turns 4 this Friday. It seems like yesterday I was convincing Steven to just take that work trip he was offered because it was such a great expierence for him and such a big deal that he was asked to go. He was worried about missing Bryces 3rd birthday and I insisted that he shouldnt worry about it, there would be plenty more. Unbeknowns to me, it would be the last Steven could have been to. Following that was Jakes 1st Birthday, which in the end was a wonderful day. 9 days later, Steven was gone. GONE. As in FOREVER. GONE. I feel like Im starting to relive last year. I feel as if I am walking in those footsteps again.

Victim Impact Statement

Where do I begin? How am I expected to get into one statement what was taken from me? How do I write down who Steven was in one statement? There is no describing a man who had more passion for life then anyone I've ever know. There are no words to express the emptiness that has been left in our home. I sit here, not knowing where to being. Not knowing how to describe to strangers the loss we feel. I am lost.

Heaven and Death

It is not normal for a 3 year old to have these words so readily in their vocabulary. It comes too easy to Bryce. Yesterday while driving in the car to preschool and looking at the newly snow covered mountains, Bryce asks, "Mom, when I go to heaven can I bring my ownie (his stuffed animal and member of the family), and my blanket?" I paused before I could respond, attempting to catch my breath, and said, "Yes, of course you can. But you wont be going to heaven for a very long time." He then asks, "Can Jake take his blanket too?" Again, after I catch my breath, I respond with, "Yes".
Today, Bryce wakes up and comes into my room. I love him up and after a few minutes he asks, "Is Uncle Drew in heaven?" I said, "No silly, hes in Bahrain on his ship. We can talk to him on the phone and he can call us." He said, "Oh, because I thought he was in heaven with Daddy." I said, "No, just Daddy and Kaden are in heaven." A statement I never in a million thought I'd be saying to him. I flashback to the moment we were in the hospital when Kaden was born. I never ever thought Id be telling Bryce that his Daddy and Kaden were in heaven. The statement makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry forever. It makes me want to punch someone. It makes me utterly sick. I often wonder what Steven would say about all of this. When Kaden passed, Steven didn't really ever deal with it. He went on about his way. I think if he had dealt with it, the pain would have been unbearable. He would have been a different man. Life is not fair. Never will be. All I can do it keep on going, for them, for my boys and for myself.