The Survivor Tree

Each day I try to find strength in something, so I can get through to the day. I t doesn't happen every day. Some days are just plain awful. I cry a lot. I hurt a lot. And I feel numb. Some days I am stronger, and I smile and even laugh. This past weekend was filled was mostly smiles and laughter and I am extremely thankful for that.

4 of my best friends, and myself went to New York City from Thurs-Sun. This trip had been planned since this summer. It was a surprise for Megan's 30th birthday. I, myself, care nothing about big cities. I am a small town, slow pace, talk s-l-o-w kind of girl. I really had no desire to go to New York City. But I didn't want to miss out on the chance to spend 4 days with 4 of my best friends. So I said I would go. God must have known how much I would have needed this trip.

Although this trip was not what I would call "relaxing"...it was a break from my everyday painful life. All my friends know I am stricken with panic attacks...and have anxiety like no other. I fainted in my own wedding...twice. It's nothing new with me. I just deal with it. I don't do crowds, I don't do big cities, I don't do fast pace...but after going through the worst phase in my life...I could handle New York. I have been forced to deal with so many uncomfortable things since Michael's death...I am becoming used to the feeling of being "unfamiliar". I never knew a person could feel so many emotions and feel so much pain. Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you and knocking you off your feet.

My favorite part of the trip was visiting Ground Zero. I think by so recently experiencing tragedy, my heart was overcome with emotion by visiting this memorial. As I walked down the streets, I imagined the fear and panic that those people must have felt. I cringed at the thought of what it must have been like to be a part of 9/11. You watch stories on tv and you see the news...but it really hit me hard when I was there. I began to think of all the people who were lost that day. And I couldn't help but think of ALL the people who LOST someone. I am one person, and I feel so much pain. Try to imagine all the loved ones who lost someone to that terrible attack. My heart just felt so heavy. Having going through a loss, it was all I could think of to feel the pain of so many.

They place a rose by the name of someone if their birthday is on that day. I didn't even notice this until after I posted the name was Michael. The only rose I saw that day, and his name was Michael.

This is the Survivor Tree and this is the story:

 

 “The tree was originally planted at the world trade center complex in the 1970′s. It was discovered in the rubble weeks after the 9/11 attacks with snapped roots and a blackened trunk. It was taken to the Arthur Ross Nursery in van Cortlandt Park in The Bronx and nursed back to health. It was 8 feet tall at the time of the attacks and now stands 35 feet tall. It was replanted at the site on 12/22/2010. The tree symbolizes the city and country’s resilience“.

 

This just really struck me as inspirational. I read it over and over and just think about what that means.  "Standing tall, it bears witness to the possibility of renewal and serves as a living reminder of our shared strength in the face of even the most unimaginable tragedy."

 



Standing with the Survivor Tree. A survivor myself. I know I have a long way to go. And a lot of hurt, and hurdles to face. I am glad I went on this trip. This trip was good for my soul. It was good to be with my friends. It was good to remember what laughter is like. I am thankful I visited this memorial and learned about this tree. I feel like this tree has helped me and will help me in remembering that I am strong and I am a survivor.

I miss him

Today has been a hard day. I stayed in my pajamas until 2. And when I say "pajamas" I mean Michael's clothes. Since the night he died, that is all I sleep in. Mostly just his shirts, but he had one pair of Clemson pajama pants that somehow I can wear without them falling off of me. The only reason I got dressed was because Thursday I decided I was going to go hunting this weekend. And even though I really didn't feel like going, because it was just one of those days. I knew I should go. Doing things we did together when he was alive makes me feel close to him. It makes me MISS him more, but for a short time, while I was in the deer stand I felt like he was still here and we were
hunting together.

I wore his hat. One of his main "hunting" hats. He had a ton of hats, but he had his favorites. This one was one of his favorites. It came out of his truck when he died. I can't be 100% sure he was wearing it the night he died, but I would put money on it. There was another hat that was in his truck, that was a "hunting" hat...but this Bass Pro Shops was his favorite out of all of hunting/knock around hats. My mom bought me a cross necklace when he died and I put his wedding ring on the chain. The cross fits perfect in the ring. I wear this pretty much everyday. It reminds me that I have God and Michael close to my heart, right where I need them. I also tied a piece of his shirt around my wrist. The shirt he was wearing when he died. I know that may be strange but I don't see it as him "dying" in these things...but rather they were the last thing he was wearing when he was alive. If he wasn't so damn big, I would probably try to wear his hunting clothes...but if you knew him...you knew he was 6'4", 225 LBs of solid man. And my small frame just gets lost in his clothes.

It made him so happy that we shared the same interests in hunting and guns. He was so great at teaching me so many things. He always joked about how great my aim was...and he knew better than to make me mad with an aim like that. I love remembering little things like that. It makes me smile, cry too, but smiling through tears is a common thing these days.

 

 

Michael was not perfect by any means. But one thing he did without any reservation was love me, his boys, and his mama. He always made me feel safe in his arms. He always took care of me. He protected me. He didn't want "nothing but the best for my baby" as he would say. I miss that now. I miss those feelings of being protected and comforted by him. It feels like an empty hole inside of me that longs for him to make this hurting go away. Because he always made the hurt go away. I struggle with trying to be strong, because I always looked to him. He was the strong one. He was the rock in our relationship...not me. He was the one that took all my stress away because he didn't want me having to deal with anything I didn't have to. I've never known a love like the love he had for me. He told me 13 years ago that NOBODY would ever love me like he did. And in those years that we were apart, I discovered that he was right. Time and circumstance had separated us, but in our hearts...deep down, we were never separated. We always were in each other's hearts. It seems so unfair that we got our second chance in 2011, only to be separated again. And wouldn't you know that on the day he died...he was still telling me that NOBODY would love me like he did. At 4:50 on Oct 16, he was telling me how much he loved me.


And then just several hours later he was dead. Just like that.
And my life stopped. The life I knew was over. It will never
be the same. I haven't figured out how I am going to get
through this without him. The pain I feel some days is so unreal, I don't want to get up and face the day. I don't want to think about tomorrow, or the next day. I just somehow manage to make it through each day. I don't know why this happened. I know I will never meet a man like him ever again. But I am thankful I knew a love that was pure and true. A love that some people search their whole lives and never find. A love that could conquer anything that was thrown our way.
I thank God that I had the time I did with him. I am honored he chose me to be his wife. I am honored he declared his love for me and spent everyday trying to prove to me how much he loved me. It may have been short and I may never understand why he was taken. But I can say I know what true love is and I know what true love is supposed to be like. I will cherish that all my life.

And that is why I love this quote from Steel Magnolias:

"I would rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of
nothing special."

 

I miss you every day Michael.

Even the man in the moon is crying

It's funny how things that seem important one day, can seem irrelevant the next. I have always loved college football. I have always loved the Clemson Tigers. Any Clemson fan, knows how the Tigers can drive you crazy, raise your blood pressure, give you a heart attack and fill your body with excitement all at the same time. This year, like many Clemson fans, I was so excited about the upcoming season. But now I sit here, with the game starting in less than 10 minutes and I could careless about football. Football seems so irrelevant to me right now. The first game they lost was the day Michael was buried. Any other time, I would have been so upset, so emotional, so frustrated with that football game. But instead, just hours before, I attended a funeral. A funeral where I was the guest of honor. A funeral that I thought I would possibly have to attend, just not for another 50 years.

Today was a good day at work. I have a feeling that work is going to be my saving grace. Which is ironic, because the whole reason I started working at Sonoco was so Michael and the boys could live in Hartsville. It was my idea, I pushed it and I wanted the easiest thing for the man I loved and his kids. So it's hard to think that just 6 short months ago, the only reason I moved and changed jobs was for him. And now he is gone. Every reason I am where I am, is because of Michael. But I know God has a plan for me...and there is a bigger reason to why I am there. And there is a reason for everything and I have to trust in God and keep my faith.

Despite having a good day at work, this afternoon has been hard. I drove down the road he wrecked on. It's not uncommon. I have stopped many times and stood in the spot where he died. I have picked up pieces of his truck and random things like bolts that came out of his toolbox. I keep all these small pieces of him trying to hang on to every last thing that surrounded him.  I stand there sometimes, in this field and think...there are 1000 ways he could have survived but reality is he didn't. I know it may be weird, but I have to visit this place. And I have to look at pictures of his truck and stare at the mangled mess that was left of it. I have to do this to remind myself this is real.

I have walked the tracks his tires left many times. I try to imagine what must have been going through those final moments. I know it all happened so fast he probably didn't have time to realize the severity of what was happening.

He didn't die alone as someone he knew happened to see the wreck take place. I am thankful he wasn't in pain when he died. I know he didn't know he was dying. His last words were, "get me outta here buddy." And he took a few deep breaths and the was it. In this spot. He died holding the hand of a guy he knew. And while it may seem crazy for me to revisit these spots, it just helps me cope with the reality that he is gone. It is like a double edged sword. I stand here and know this is where he took his last breath, but also this is the last place he was alive.

 I will never forget the pain I felt as I drove up to see his truck flipped and knowing he was inside. I will never forget the panic as someone came up to me and said, "there was nothing we could do for him." I will never forget that sinking feeling in my heart when I realized what just happened. I will never forget the feeling of not being able to breath. Hearing the EMS yell, "She's hyperventilating, we need oxygen." The shock of my body locking up and not being able to move my hands and not feeling my legs. All while strangers and by standers stood by and looked on. I was there, all alone, with no one I knew, discovering my husband had been in a fatal wreck. These memories will never leave my mind. It replays like a bad nightmare over and over.  So I visit this spot now, and feel the calmness that was not there that night. It's just a spot in a field, but it will forever be the last spot where Michael was last alive. The last spot he was alive and breathing. The spot where God called him home. And that is where the peace comes from. Despite all the chaos of that night, I find peace in knowing God saved my husband in so many ways from dying a slow, painful, fearful death. Yes, there are a 1000 ways he could have survived. But he didn't. And Only God knows why.

4 weeks and 10,000 views

Today makes 4 weeks since the night that changed my life. And today I reached over 10,000 views of my blog. This amazes me. Who would have ever thought so many people would be interested in my most personal thoughts. But then who would have thought my life would have turned out the way it has? I certainly would not believe someone if they would have told me this a few months ago. I saw this picture and it perfectly describes me:

 

I don't know if I feel strong...but people tell me every day how strong I am. I guess I don't have a choice. If I want to live, I have to be. I don't have any other option, but to suffer through the pain everyday. I breathe in...I breathe out...and I repeat. And that has been by life the past 4 weeks.

 

I have said that I felt Michael was my purpose in life. I said that when he was alive, and I say it now.  So now that he is gone, naturally I feel I have no purpose in life. I know that is a bold statement to make but it's how I feel. I was asked to go on an overnight trip with work to visit my plant in North Carolina. Initially I said there would be no way. I can't go sit at my desk without crying so I didn't want to go meet new people in the emotional state I have been in. What a great first impression that would be. But after taking the weekend to think about it, I decided I would go. I have worked at Sonoco for 6 months now and communicate on a daily basis with the plant. I wanted to put faces to names, and voices. I wanted to be strong. And I wanted to go. And yes, I did cry.

 

I can not say enough good things about the people I work with. They have embraced my situation and poured out love and support with open arms. They take care of me like family. I am blessed to have this job, and I feel that as I struggle to find purpose...I look to my job. I do feel valued and appreciated and this does give me strength to go back to work. This gives me a feeling that I am needed. And at a time when my life is in a shambles...it is amazing to feel needed. To have that support means more than I can express.

 

I am glad I went. It was a welcomed change of scenery. I learned a lot more about my job and learned more about how the plant operates. And a glimpse of purpose came back into my life. As hard as it is, I am thankful that God gave me the strength to go and I am glad to have learned the things I did. I am thankful for coworkers that genuinely care about me. I am thankful God allows me to be able to see the silver linings in the clouds. I came home with a good feeling. And those have been few and far between in the last 4 weeks.

 

I could write about the pain my heart feels everyday. But today I chose to write about a small triumph for me. Small things are big things these days.



 

 "The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; you love, O LORD, endures forever--do not abandon the works of your hands" (Psalm 138:8)

The Happiest Day of my Life

The happiest day of my life was May 12, 2012. The day Michael and I were married.

Part of the grieving process is going through a "denial" stage. Today I am having a "denial day".  One of the books I am reading is called, "Through a Season of Grief." It states:

"Denial is a natural reaction to one of life's most painful events. Your body uses denial as a protective device, be it consciously or subconsciously, to avoid facing reality."

I found it to be completely accurate in the next paragraph, "The clock will mean nothing anymore," say Rev. John Coulombe. "Barely the calendar. People won't know what day it is, yet their senses are more keenly aware than ever before. It's like a dream that is happening, and they can't get out of it. Everything is in slow motion. But this is normal; this is a response to death."


So today, I'm in denial that Michael has died, because I don't want him to be gone. I want him here. I don't want to be forced to believe the cold hard truth that my life has now become.

Instead I am sharing pictures from the happiest day of my life.

 My dad sang "I cross my heart" by George Strait for our first dance. When we dated the first time, one of our favorite movies was Pure Country. So my dad learned the song, and sang it for us.

 The most handsome man I have ever laid eyes on.

Sunny Saturday

It's been a sunny Saturday and a good Saturday, for the most part. Mornings are hard. I don't sleep much and I'm always awake early, always so much on my mind. Last night I distinctly remember one of my dreams. The entire dream, I was dying. I knew I was dying and I was telling all my loved ones and then I died. I woke up thinking "how disturbing." But I know dreams are said to mean things, so I looked up what it meant to dream you were dying. And I was blown away at what it said:

Die
To dream that you die in your dream symbolizes inner changes, transformation, self-discovery and positive development that is happening within you or your life. You are undergoing a transitional phase and are becoming more enlightened or spiritual. Although such a dream may bring about feelings of fear and anxiety, it is no cause for alarm as it is often considered a positive symbol. Dreams of experiencing your own death usually means that big changes are ahead for you. You are moving on to new beginnings and leaving the past behind. These changes does not necessarily imply a negative turn of events. Metaphorically, dying can be seen as an end or a termination to your old ways and habits. So, dying does not always mean a physical death, but an ending of something. You are about to embark on some new life adventure.        

I just kind of thought to myself, wow. I mean what else can you say to that.

On to other things, the past few years I have always wanted a nicer camera. Michael was going to get me one for Christmas this year. Well after having some time to think about it, I decided I should go ahead and get a camera. I will have a lot of free time of my hands now and it might be a therapeutic hobby. Initially I wanted the camera so I could take pictures of my family. Well, now I'm sure my pictures will be of my dogs and nature but that's ok. I hope that maybe I can get some good shots that at some point I could turn into a painting.  Not that I have wanted to paint any in the last few weeks. But hopefully as time passes, I will want to paint again. Michael always wanted me to paint the barn at my parents. He had been telling me for the longest time, I should paint it. He knew how much I love that barn. I hope that one day I will take a picture I like, and paint the barn from it. I know that would make him smile.

My dad has always loved photography. He has been extra excited about my decision to start taking pictures as a hobby. I have been getting lessons for the past few days.  It gives me something to focus on my attention on, even if for a short time. It is hard for me to focus on anything for any amount of time these days. My mind just is stuck in this fuzzy space of nothing. I just become oblivious to things around me. So it was a welcomed change to focus on something for a few hours today. Below are a few of my favorites from today that I took.

 Dad and Tula in the cotton fields. That dog is his baby.

I love this of the cotton. I hope I can turn this into a painting one day.

 My sidekick and constant companion, Benny. You know they say that animals understand when you are grieving, and I believe it. He stays by my side, no matter what.

 Now, I know I am biased, but Hunter has to be prettiest lab I have ever seen. Michael and I got him as a puppy for the boys in 2011 for a Christmas present. We debated on names for weeks before he was old enough for us to get. But all we really needed to do was ask the boys what they thought. I remember asking Nate, "What do you want to name the puppy?" He thought for a minute and said, "Hunter. Because daddy likes to hunt." Michael and I looked at each other and smiled. And so he was named. Nate was so proud of coming up with the name. He would often remind us that HE was the one who named him, ALL by himself. Sweet memories. Sweet Hunter.

 Dad taking the dogs for a bike ride. These dogs love to run. Tula, Hunter, Timber, and Jake. Maggie is missing, she was still in the woods.  Benny could care less about running around with that crowd. His legs are too short. He can't keep up. lol

I don't know anything better than sitting outside, in the country, on a beautiful day, to make your soul feel better. I'm thankful I am having a good day today. This week has been tough and it was much needed for a peaceful day. I think I will go visit Michael's grave now. Most days I don't talk to him. I just sit there. We sit in peace and quiet. After all, now he is resting in PEACE =)



                                 

3 steps forward, 2 steps back

This week has been full of ups and downs. I'm sure that is how the next chapter of my life will go. Some days will be ok, and some will be bad. 3 steps forward, 2 steps back. But every step forward is one more step from the previous. I have been using the term "baby steps" a lot lately. I guess baby steps are better than no steps.

So this week I have attempted to return to work. For those who may not know, Michael and I worked at the same place. He had worked there 15 years. Kinda hard to not think of him when going back. Monday I was determined to try. I knew I would have to take a different route so I would not go by the parking lot where Michael would park.  What I did not anticipate, was the way I was going would go right by an old parking lot in a section where Michael used to work. I think that was the final straw that broke the camel's back, but the crying had started 15 minutes out. The closer I got to work, the harder the crying got. And seeing the plant, and the old parking lot, just was too much to handle. Emotionally I was not going to be able to pull myself together. I came home. Cried. Got back in the bed and cried some more. Story of my life these days.

Tuesday, I tried again. I managed to struggle through a few hours. I think I only cried 4 times in the 4 hours I was there. There are lots of things that make it hard being back at work. But the hardest is Michael was a part of my work routine. I would pass his truck every morning on the way to my office. I would patiently wait for his "Good Morning baby, I love you" text that would come like clockwork every morning around 8:30 at his first break. And then his text would usually come at 11, when he had lunch. And then whenever he had time. So Tuesday I found myself staring at my phone and knowing that there would be no "I love you" to come through from Michael. There would be no "how's your day babe" and no text from him with his famous "my heart's not in it today," meaning "I don't really want to be working today" text. But he worked no matter how he felt. He worked 7 days a week almost every week. He was the hardest worker I've ever know. He was the most humble, selfless person I have ever known. He was the greatest man I have ever known.

Wednesday I managed to get through a few hours at work again. I know I have to get back into some sort of routine, but it's hard when all you think about is the one person that you loved the most is gone from your life and all the sunshine has disappeared. It's hard to focus on anything but the pain that stabs your chest every time you try to breathe. The numbness you feel as everything around you continues to keep time at its regular pace and I'm just stuck in what feels like the twilight zone.

Meanwhile, I have been trying to get some things of the boys together. I wanted them to have some things that Michael bought them, like their camo jackets. I also gave them each of hat of Michael's and a shirt of his in case they wanted to sleep in it. It took me over a week to get some things packed up. When they are old enough to want their daddy's things, I will give them whatever they want. I will do whatever my husband would have wanted. We had talks about death. We discussed things. I know his wishes. And although I never thought it would come true, I'm glad we had talked about some things so I can make sure to honor my husband in the ways in wanted.

The reality of my house being a family of 4 to now...just me, is a difficult thing to accept. I spent a lot of time with the boys, a lot of time just me and them when Michael was working. We developed a strong bond in such a quick time. I miss them. But I just pray about the situation. That is all I can do. I dropped their clothes off, and still was not able to see them. But I wanted them to have those things. At the end of the day, I can only do so much. And leave the rest in God's hands.

Today is Thursday and it was a bad day. I couldn't sleep last night. I couldn't get out of bed today. Just one of those days. The pain of missing Michael was too strong. I could not get him off my mind and how much I miss him. I'm reading out of two books, that two different people have sent. I'm hoping that I can continue to learn with how to deal with my grief. Sometimes the shock of my best friend and soul mate being dead, is just to much to deal with. So I just choose to not deal with it until reality slaps me in the face again. The only thing I did today was go to his grave.  Something about being there brings me peace. I know it's just his body there and his spirit is free but it was the only thing that brought me to a "ok" place today.

 I look back and remember his love for me and it brings a smile to my face and a tear to my eye. I am blessed to have loved such a perfect man and to have him love me so much. He always made sure I knew how much he loved me. He was the kind of man that kissed me every morning before he left for work and kissed me every night before he went to sleep. He never failed to tell me he loved me each and every day, sometimes every few hours. He was finally happy and I do take peace knowing that he died a happy man. He close friends tell me he expressed to them, he was the happiest he had ever been his life. I find comfort in that.