I am thankful that it is finally the weekend.  The week was somewhat uneventful, but it was a blah kind of week.  Tuesday was six months, and most of the day passed quietly.  I felt like I was just walking around in a fog.  My mind not focused on work at all.  Though I did get a few things done, I can’t tell you what it was unless I look at my planner.  Tears stayed at bay until I hit my doctor’s office.   I had an appointment with a gastroenterologist for a first consult and just explaining what my issues were, had me crying.  This was a time that I wished that Corey was there with me.  The staff was very sympathetic and working with me to feel at ease with all the issues and letting me know that I would be just fine. 

The rest of the week, was slightly better, but I am still forgetting things.  I totally missed a therapy appointment on Thursday and I really needed to have it.  I just plain forgot it; which is not like me at all.  Luckily, she understood and rescheduled me for next week.  And I have put it in my calendar on my cell phone and planner so that I don’t forget.  

So there’s not really much going on this weekend.  I am having lunch today with my knitting buddy, Mrs M.  I got her hooked on Five Guys.  I need a hamburger fix and that is the place to do it!   After that, I am headed back home.  I need to steam clean the carpet (since one of the dogs is leaving me surprises)  And then off to organize my third bedroom.  It is my goal to convert that third guest room into my craft/lounge room.  My original plan was to take the leather sectional in the living room and put it in that third bedroom.  I think that it would fit but it would be a tight squeeze.  And then I would just get a new sofa and love seat for the living room.  But I think that I have changed my mind on that for now.  Budget is the key and I need to get that set and saving back in place once everything with the estate is cleared.  So my next option that I suddenly thought of was putting in a Papasan Chair

I sat in one and I was looking for comfort while I knit and/or watch TV.   So instead of buying one directly from Pier One, I hit up craigs list and found one that was slightly used and near by my house.   I am going to go over there on Monday evening to look at it and pick it up if I decide to take it.  This is exciting me because I can see my vision developing.   It’s not to say that in the future that I might still get me a new living room set and move the leather one in the room, but for now the Papasan will do the trick and allow me to have comfortable seating to knit, watch tv, blog and not on the bed all the time. 

Otherwise that, all I have is knitting to do this weekend.  Since I had to rip out the second sock, I get to restart that today and hopefully have it finished quickly.  I had hoped to have it done by the time Mom arrived on Monday, but that is not going to be possible since I had to rip all the way out.  Le sigh.  At least I have one sock done and it fits!

Enough for now; I think I will take a mid morning nap before heading out.   🙂

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Six Months

Tomorrow, Tuesday January 12, 2010, will be the six month mark of Corey’s passing.  There are days that I feel like it was just yesterday and then there are the days that I feel like it was eons ago.  Either way, it’s hard.  Terribly hard. 

Sleeping at night is getting harder for some reason.  Maybe it’s because a lot of the legal things are being wrapped up and my mind is settling down just enough to start to realize that he’s gone.  At one point I was too busy for my own good and the results were looking like a panda bear because of the dark circles. 

The dreams have come back.  They are times that they really disturb me and make me anxious and sad.  The first dream I had was just shortly after Corey’s passing.  He had left me and I was frantically looking for him.  I could not find him; not anywhere.  I woke up crying pretty hard because I couldn’t understand why he was gone.  Why did he leave me?  Especially since that he had promised me that he would never leave me. 

The second dream that I had about three months after he died, he had left me, again, and I could see him just in front of  me, but I could never catch up to him.  He would be just where I could see him and I would run, and run, and run.  I would wake up and I would be out of breath, like I had been running.  Again, I would be crying when I woke up. 

The last one I had just not long ago, he had left me.  And I searched for him and I found him.  And I had him in my reach, looking into his eyes ask him Why?  Why did you leave me? Why?  You promised me.  I could see his brown eyes, and they were welling up with tears, but he never said why.  I woke up and never got that answer.   

Do these dreams mean something?  Is Corey telling me something?   It freaks me out sometimes.   I want so badly to understand why.  I know what caused his death, but why?  It’s so hard to explain what I am feeling what I am thinking.   I wished I could understand.

This week, is the week without any grief support group; I could use their fellowship and understanding.  Their support and love.  I have my family and friends who give me the same, it’s just sometimes different to meet others who know what I am going through.

At one time, I counted the years that we were together and how many more to go we had; now I count the months that he’s been gone.

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It’s South Texas and it’s below freezing.  And it’s supposed to be that way for the next couple of days.  This is just plain strange.  The dogs are going crazy when they go outside because it’s just so cold.  It’s taking an Act of Congress to get them to do their business!!

It’s days like this that Corey and I would light the fireplace, and just watch the flames and enjoy the warmth.  I can’t bear to light it and enjoy it without him.  It just seems so wrong.  And let’s talk about going to bed.   With just one person, the bed is cold.  I could always, when it was cold, guarantee that it would be warm when I went to bed.  Corey usually always retired before I did, so his body heat would warm the bed. I would crawl in bed and put my cold feet on his legs just to annoy him, but to also warm up.   Now, when I move my cold feet over to warm up, he’s not there.  It’s just empty and lonely. 

Sleeping at night has been somewhat hard.  My mind races when I go to bed; I can’t sleep.  The bed is a king and it’s like a canyon on his side of the bed.  Turn off the lights, I stare into the darkness just thinking; remembering, crying.  Asking God why and to please, please send him back to me. 

As each month passes, I get somewhat better.  I remember, and thank God, for the time I had with him.  Corey touched my life and I am never, ever going to forget.  No one with whom he knew will ever forget.

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My story – part 4

The time between when we planned the service and the actual day was somewhat of a blur.  I spent most of my time walking around in a fog and trying to, when around my nephews and niece not to cry or to scare them.  However, they were troopers!  Just hearing their laughter and seeing their smiles would at times, brighten up my spirits.

Mom and my best friend, L, took me out to buy a dress/outfit for the memorial service.  I really wasnt in the mood to play dress up, but went along.  Normally, I wouldn’t mind trying on clothes, but this was just taxing.   I had, unknowingly, had kept my head cocked to the left all the time.  At some point, it got where I could not turn my head and I had to seek relief in a massage.  Mom and I trekked to the mall and found some little vendor that has the massage chairs out in the middle.  I will say to this day, that was the best $20 I had ever spent.  It helped out the kinks.

My in-laws returned on Thursday/Friday (can’t seem to remember) for the Memorial service.  At the same time, my Grandparents and my Aunt and Uncle came in.  Having all the family there, was comforting.  Friday consisted of a family dinner, which was graciously provided by my group of girl friends, The Nesties.** more to come on them.

Saturday, July 18th.  Another hard day in my life.   The day that everyone would come to remember my beloved Corey.  I went through most of the motions like a zombie.  I was such a mess, I had to have my sister-in-laws hairdresser fix my hair for the day.  I don’t remember eating anything that morning, but I do remember ripping my hose.  I was able to call L and ask that she pick up another pair for me and meet me at the Church.  She was my lifesaver. 

The service was beautiful, meaningful, and solemn at the same time.  So many people attended to remember Corey.  Many of Corey’s Coworkers were there and so many friends!  As far as China, and California.  Friends that I had never met, driving from Missouri and Kansas.  As well, there was a huge contingent of my in-laws friends who travelled in for the service.   Even my Aunt and Uncle drove in just in time for the service.   A five-hour trip to honor my husband whom they had only met once. 

Father Bill did a wonderful service in remembering Corey.  A friend of the family, and one of my parents business partners, sang some of my most favorite hymns; “On Eagle’s Wings”, “Amazing Grace”.  I had chosen three people to speak at the service.  Kim, Corey’s boss, Rusty, Corey’s childhood friend, and Bob, my father in law.  My mom read something she wrote to represent my side of the family as well. 

Then I stood up and spoke.  I don’t know how I did it, but I did.  And I don’t remember most of what I said; but I was told that I did a wonderful job.  People still tell me that they were surprised that I was able to do it and that I did so very well that Corey would have been so proud of me.   I felt that I had to do it.   I said my vows to him when we married, now it was time to say my goodbyes.  I wanted everyone around to know how much he meant to me; and how he was my hero.  How much he changed my life for the better.  How he touched me and everyone around him. 

One of the hardest parts of the service came after my eulogy.  I had them play “Could Not Ask for More” by Sara Evans.   That was our song.  There’s a special story behind that song.  It was the first time we would be celebrating Valentines Day as a couple.  I was at my home; he was at his apartment.  We had been chatting online, but had closed up for the night.   Once we had said our good nights, I had been surfing the internet, looking for the words to the song.   See, the words said it all of how I felt.  I had just printed them out, put them inside the card that I had for him, when I got an email from Corey.  Attached to that email was a music file; it was the recording to the same song that I had just printed out.  I knew then that we were meant to be together and that he was the man I would marry.   That song always had a special meaning to us.  When I created the album from our wedding and honeymoon, I put the words on the back page.  Every time he would look at that , his eyes would well up.  I can still see those eyes today, welling up with joy.

My brother and his family, graciously opened up their home to all those who attended the services.  We catered BBQ from a local eatery and they counted for us.  There were approximately 110 people who attended the reception afterwards.  It was so wonderful for those who came to sit around, inside and out, and remember Corey and all the good stories.  I learned a few things I never knew; met people that he had mentioned before, and cried with my girlfriends from high school who attended. 

There are times when I sit back and try to remember what I said for my eulogy.   I re-write it and wish I could re-do it over and over because I really think that I missed so many things I wanted to say.  I know that I can’t do that, but I can do it so that he can hear me.   I know he can; I know he’s here.

I have to say thank you to my “Nesties”.  This fabulous group of ladies have been a huge support for me.  We all met while planning our weddings and then on to living the married life.  Many of them donated to a fund which not only provided the dinner for the family the night before the service, but desserts for the reception, flowers every other month for a year and towards the plot in which Corey’s ashes have been interred.  I received visits during the week and so many of them attended the funeral.  My neighbors husband called them my “Ya-Ya’s”.  And he was right.   And along the donations, they created a Care Calendar where every other night during the week, a beautiful, loving lady would bring me dinner or take me out.  I received many cards and care packages from them.   I am forever indebted to them.  They are my Ya-Ya’s.

Each day is a struggle.  I try each and everyday to reflect on my life with Corey and what we had.  I miss him with every fiber of my being.  He was my one true love. 

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Goals for 2010

Most people make resolutions for the new year.  I don’t do that; instead I am setting goals.  Maybe it’s the same thing; maybe not, but that’s what I am going to do.

What are they you ask?  Pretty simple yet pretty meaningful to me.  I wonder how many I will accomplish.  

1.  To start to Journal my journey through grief.  This was at the suggestion of my therapist.  I took it one step further and decided to create a blog.  Why a blog and not just a piece of paper and a pen?  Well my handwriting stinks!   AndI would spend more time worrying about how it looked than what it meant.   And besides, I think that I write better sitting at the keyboard as the words just flow to my finger tips and it just comes out.

2.  To ride in the MS 150 in 2011.  Yes you read that correctly, 2011.  This is a huge goal for me. And to accomplish it, I need to start training now.  My first move is to work on the cardio portion of it.  Thus, I need to get the spin class schedule, make my schedule and get started.  I hope to get to the point that I can move to training with a riding group and getting a bike.

3.  Knit a sweater and wear it.  I can start it; I can rip it out and start again and again and again.  But I have never finished one.  I am going to do it this year. 

4.  Join the Handbell choir at church.  I love music and this is something that I have always had some interest in it.  I can’t wait to make beautiful music and honor my Heavenly Father. 

Just a few goals; all attainable.   And I plan on meeting all of them.

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My Story – part 3

It’s hard to believe that I was actually told that the Church was closed.  One would think that it was never closed, but the doors open to all those who need to feel closer to God. 

After the sharpness and tone of the Priest wore off, I eventually became upset over the treatment that he had given me.  Is that how it’s going to be?  I am going to be pushed away because we consciously made the decision to not marry in the Church?  That was our choice, but I was still a Child of God and very much Catholic.  I never gave up on God or my faith.  I was just being selfish. 

On the way over to my brothers home, I talked to my parents and inquired if they thought my brother’s family Priest would take the time to meet with me and pray.  To help me understand why.  The call was made by my brother and sister-in-law and without hesitation, Father Bill agreed to meet with me the next day.   I spent the rest of the evening self-secluded in my brothers guest room, still in a state of shock.  At one point, my dad came in to bring me a cup of soup and some crackers.  My precious three-year old niece, who is just attached to her Grandpa, came in with him.   She sat on the bed and I did my best to not cry in front of her.  She knew that Aunt Lexie was sad, but not why.   Once I offered her my crackers, that she had been eyeballing, she was all smiles.   Seeing her precious smile always makes me smile. 

That first night was hard.  Knowing that my soul mate was never coming back to me, to sleep next to me, to kiss me goodnight, to hold me took its toll on me.  My mom slept with me to keep watch over me.  I the night crying and staring at his Facebook profile picture.  I was, and still am, afraid that I will forget what he looks like. 

I met, along with my brother, sister-in-law, mom and dad with Father Bill the next morning.  Meeting with him made me feel better about my faith.  The actions of the other Priest  led me to be up front and forthcoming with Father Bill.  I explained that as a couple that married late in life, both not of the same faith, that we married outside the church.  And that I had strayed from the Church, but only out of selfishness.   He asked me this one question and I can still hear him asking me it.  He asked “During that time, was God ever out of your heart?”  I said no, He never was, He was always there.   His response to me, was that it did not matter, as long as I had God in my heart, God was with me and He understood.  Just hearing that uplifted my heart and restored my faith.  Our meeting went on for an hour and it was so very helpful.  I have never been more grateful and owe so much to Father Bill. 

My In-laws came in the next afternoon once they could get away and we were able to spend some time together to sit and visit and reminisce.  I adore them; they are wonderful people.  When I first met them, they welcomed me with open arms and made me feel at home.   To this day, that still remains.

Planning the funeral was very hard for me to handle.  Corey’s best friend Greg is a Funeral Director and there was no doubt in my, or any others mind, that he and his company would handle the arrangements.   Greg drove over three hours to meet with us and help us plan the memorial.  He was nothing but professional and made it easy for me.  It was Corey’s wishes to be cremated and both Greg and I knew that was what he wanted.  Once we, the entire family, made the necessary arrangements, Greg and I sat together to sign the required paperwork.  After the signing, we sat and talked.  With tears in my eyes, I asked if he was going to be leaving to go and get him, and he said yes that he was.  As I had previously mentioned, I had not had the opportunity to go back into the bedroom to kiss him goodbye or tell him that I loved him more than life.  That was something very hard for me to deal with.   I had at one point on Monday to tell Greg that I wanted to go to the ME’s office to just be able to give him one last kiss.   Both he and my brother told me that would not be good as he would not be the same.  Mainly because of the autopsy.   I reluctantly accepted that would not happen.   As we sat there, I grabbed Greg’s hand, and between the sobs asked that if he would, to please touch his cheek and tell him that I love him and I miss him terribly.  I looked into Greg’s eyes to see tears coming down his face and to hear him say that he would.  And that he had the next three hours with his best friend to talk to him and to let him know.    I don’t know how Greg did it, but I can only imagine how hard that was for him. 

The next obstacle that had to be overcome was finding a place to have the memorial service.  Corey had a lot of friends and co-workers that I knew would want to pay respects to him.  It was a shock to all of them and I knew that they would want to be there for me as well.   After many phone calls and waiting on return calls, we finally called Father Bill.  I was worried that because Corey was not Catholic, he would not allow us to have the service at the Church.  Once my sister-in-law reached him, he heartedly agreed and even presided over the service.  It was a blessing to be able to remember Corey in such a beautiful place and to have such a wonder man of God preside over the service.

…..to be continued……

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My Story – part 2

July 12, 2009 was somewhat a blur once I got home and found Corey.  I remember calling 911, running to the neighbors to get help, calling my mom in hysterics and hitting Corey, trying to get him to wake up.    I do remember falling to the floor with the EMS said that he was gone and there was no life.   I was devastated. 

My mom and dad live two hours away; they called my brother, who lives 50 miles across town, to get to me.  What would be about a 45 min to hour trip took him 20 mins.   He, as well as my wonderful sister-in-law, were there to comfort me until my parents arrived.  My best friend did everything she could to get to me as quickly as possible.   I am forever grateful to them.   My brother took charge, being the liason to work  with the Sheriff’s department, the Medical Examiner and the funeral home. 

There are a couple of things about that day that still haunt me.  They way he looked when I found him.   Corey was still in bed; covered up to his chin in the light cotton blanket.  Propped up on his pillow like he always slept.  His hands clasped together sitting on his chest.   He always slept that way.  His eyes closed, when I started to panic, I lifted up his closed eyelids.  The image stuck in my mind; those beautiful brown eyes that I fell in love with, just distant; no life.   I still see those in my mind.   Every time I go to bed, that image is still there. 

The other that haunts me; that once the Sheriff ushered me out of the room, I never went back in.   I never went back in there told him goodbye and how much I loved him.  I never got to kiss him one last time.  All that I ever did that day was yell, scream and hit him.  I never told him I loved him that day.  I regret that.  To this day, I regret it.

My faith was tested that day.  When I first met Corey and we started to date exclusively, I drifted away from the Church.  I was selfish.  The only time we ever got to spend together was on the weekends.  I wanted to spend every single moment of each weekend together.  I made the conscience decision to not attend Mass, but it was for only selfish reasons.   However, that day, I felt the need to want to talk to my parish Priest.  I believe to this day that God put his arms around me and I know I felt His love for me.

  Not knowing my Mother, once she had arrived, contacted my parish to see if we could get ahold of a priest.  I wanted to sit with him and just pray.  I was never asking for one to come out to give last rites or any other rite.  Corey was not Catholic and he would have not wanted that.  Once the ME’s office had taken my beloved out of my home, the associate Priest at my parish called my mom.  Now I had not been in six years, and did not know that there were some new priests there.   After an interrogation about Corey, and whether or not he was Catholic, were we married in the church, etc, I was made to feel that I was a horrible person and not worthy of Father Tom’s time.   I had told him that all I wanted was to sit with him and just pray; but I was turned away and told that the “church was closed”.    The Church Was closed….

….to be continued…..

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