Since my last post on this blog in 2012, I have been through some amazing changes in my life. I got married to the man of my dreams, got married and met what I thought was the girl of my dreams too. We have 2 beautiful kids and had for a brief glimpse in time, a family. Completeness. Whole.
But I have also lost people in my life that I never thought I would lose. I took them for granted. Having them here everyday to talk to and love. Losing them and learning that my love now had to be long distance. To feel the grief bubble up unexpectedly, triggered by a site, or a smell or a song.
I lost my grandmother June 20th 2013. She was my role model, the woman who had raised my beautiful mother and molded her into the amazing, wonderful mother she is to me. I was then dating my now husband, soon to be ex husband through a learning experience riddled turn of events and he was such a huge support to me during that terrible time.
My husband proposed to me on July 4th 2013, at 10 PM on the top of suncrest, as a thunder storm rolled in and there was a multi hued kaleidoscope of fireworks in every color imaginable all across the valley as far as the eye could see. I became this wonderful gentleman's wife on October 17th, 2013 - my grandmother's birthday.
This amazing man I was fortunate enough to call my husband for the past nearly 6 years has taught me so much in our 6 years of marriage. He taught me that it is ok to feel. That it is ok to grieve. That it is ok to not be ok. He has been patient and loving throughout all of our trials, teaching me tools to help me cope with my past.
At the end of October 2015, I drove to my parents house and had a very long, very loud conversation with my father. I had resented him my entire life because he had been abusive every single day of my life. He was controlling my entire life, the people I chose to associate with, and every other aspect one could possibly have that would have even the tiniest glimpse toward for freedom.
One night I had finally had enough. I knew that he could no longer control or hurt me, and that if he had tried my then husband would have had my back and defended me and let him know just how not ok the things he had done and was currently doing was. I drove to his house and yelled at him for over 2 hours. I told him every reason I hated him, and why so many times I had wished he would just disappear. Die. Vanish. Never to be heard from again. I told him how hurt I was that he treated my husband and I the way he had, and how much it upset me that he came to my wedding, hid in the back, watched my brother walk me down the aisle and when I chased after him right after my ceremony, he had the nerve to just push right through me and not say one word.
I told him how unfair it was that my mom had to sneak out of the house to come to my bridal showers, and tell him off to come to my wedding.
But after all that, I also thanked him. I talked to him about how appreciative I was that I wasn't like other kids my age, that I knew how to work hard, and that I had goals for myself that I worked on achieving. I became a homeowner at 22 and I attribute a lot of that to the fact that I grew up responsible and that I am not like other kids my age. Not a lot of people can say that they have had so much success that they worked tirelessly to build all on their own with the support of an amazing spouse.
That night, was the first night he ever told me he loved me and the first time I had actually seen him really cry. And our relationship began to improve.
The night before his death, less than 8 months later, I was driving home from my second job, and a voice spoke to me as clear as day and said, "You NEED to go visit your parents." At that moment, I was so exhausted in every way possible, as I was a wife, a mother and nurturer to everyone around me. I was working 2 jobs, so we were able to get by. I was so exhausted, I took it for granted, dismissed the urging, and went home. The next morning at work, where PCI compliance is strongly enforced, I was coaching my team and didn't have my phone on me. I didn't realize I was missing call after call of my family frantically trying to get in touch with me. A phone representative approached me on the floor and said, "you need to call your mother." My heart sank. In those 6 words, dread completely and udderly engulfed my body. I knew something had happened.
I pulled out my phone and ran outside to check it and found 7 missed calls from my mother and 13 missed calls from my sister. I called them back and heard the dreaded words in my sisters tear filled voice, "Dad's dead." I panicked. I started crying and saying NO, NO NO NO, over and over again. I ran around frantically trying to find my manager - or any manager - that could relieve me of duty and not think I just bailed without a word. When I finally did find one, I couldn't even get the words out, and he took one look at me and said, "GO."
I don't even remember the drive to my mothers home, or what I said or did when I got there. I remember the men from the mortuary pulling his body out of their van so I could say goodbye before they took his body away. I don't remember much else. I remember Anger. RED, hot, encompassing anger. I couldn't handle the things I was feeling. I was angry because just when I had finally begun to have a healthy, loving relationship with him, he died. He wasn't there for me, or so I thought.
A couple of months after his passing, my daughter Aubree was having trouble sleeping. After multiple times between my husband and I getting up to see what we could do to help her, re-tucking her in, and singing songs, I decided to get up and hold her on the couch in the dark with only the light from the diffuser on my kitchen counter for light. As I laid there cuddling my sweet babe on my chest, she began looking around and waving. She said, "HI PAPA!" and continued to wave. My eyes welled with tears as the realization that he was there with me, unseen by me, but seen by my beautiful daughter, and I knew in that moment, he had never left. He is always watching over me, and the ones I love so dearly.
And I found peace. Finally. An overwhelming sense of calm rushed over me and I knew he was ok. I knew that no matter where I went and what I did, that he would always be there watching over me.
And he still visits occasionally, especially when the struggles of life get to me and I get so far inside my own head, I am struggling to keep my head above water. That has been happening a lot lately, but I know someday, somehow, I will be ok.
One night I had finally had enough. I knew that he could no longer control or hurt me, and that if he had tried my then husband would have had my back and defended me and let him know just how not ok the things he had done and was currently doing was. I drove to his house and yelled at him for over 2 hours. I told him every reason I hated him, and why so many times I had wished he would just disappear. Die. Vanish. Never to be heard from again. I told him how hurt I was that he treated my husband and I the way he had, and how much it upset me that he came to my wedding, hid in the back, watched my brother walk me down the aisle and when I chased after him right after my ceremony, he had the nerve to just push right through me and not say one word.
I told him how unfair it was that my mom had to sneak out of the house to come to my bridal showers, and tell him off to come to my wedding.
But after all that, I also thanked him. I talked to him about how appreciative I was that I wasn't like other kids my age, that I knew how to work hard, and that I had goals for myself that I worked on achieving. I became a homeowner at 22 and I attribute a lot of that to the fact that I grew up responsible and that I am not like other kids my age. Not a lot of people can say that they have had so much success that they worked tirelessly to build all on their own with the support of an amazing spouse.
That night, was the first night he ever told me he loved me and the first time I had actually seen him really cry. And our relationship began to improve.
The night before his death, less than 8 months later, I was driving home from my second job, and a voice spoke to me as clear as day and said, "You NEED to go visit your parents." At that moment, I was so exhausted in every way possible, as I was a wife, a mother and nurturer to everyone around me. I was working 2 jobs, so we were able to get by. I was so exhausted, I took it for granted, dismissed the urging, and went home. The next morning at work, where PCI compliance is strongly enforced, I was coaching my team and didn't have my phone on me. I didn't realize I was missing call after call of my family frantically trying to get in touch with me. A phone representative approached me on the floor and said, "you need to call your mother." My heart sank. In those 6 words, dread completely and udderly engulfed my body. I knew something had happened.
I pulled out my phone and ran outside to check it and found 7 missed calls from my mother and 13 missed calls from my sister. I called them back and heard the dreaded words in my sisters tear filled voice, "Dad's dead." I panicked. I started crying and saying NO, NO NO NO, over and over again. I ran around frantically trying to find my manager - or any manager - that could relieve me of duty and not think I just bailed without a word. When I finally did find one, I couldn't even get the words out, and he took one look at me and said, "GO."
I don't even remember the drive to my mothers home, or what I said or did when I got there. I remember the men from the mortuary pulling his body out of their van so I could say goodbye before they took his body away. I don't remember much else. I remember Anger. RED, hot, encompassing anger. I couldn't handle the things I was feeling. I was angry because just when I had finally begun to have a healthy, loving relationship with him, he died. He wasn't there for me, or so I thought.
A couple of months after his passing, my daughter Aubree was having trouble sleeping. After multiple times between my husband and I getting up to see what we could do to help her, re-tucking her in, and singing songs, I decided to get up and hold her on the couch in the dark with only the light from the diffuser on my kitchen counter for light. As I laid there cuddling my sweet babe on my chest, she began looking around and waving. She said, "HI PAPA!" and continued to wave. My eyes welled with tears as the realization that he was there with me, unseen by me, but seen by my beautiful daughter, and I knew in that moment, he had never left. He is always watching over me, and the ones I love so dearly.
And I found peace. Finally. An overwhelming sense of calm rushed over me and I knew he was ok. I knew that no matter where I went and what I did, that he would always be there watching over me.
And he still visits occasionally, especially when the struggles of life get to me and I get so far inside my own head, I am struggling to keep my head above water. That has been happening a lot lately, but I know someday, somehow, I will be ok.
