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Last week was rough. On Monday night my friend Katie's brother passed away after an unbelievable battle with cancer. He was 38, a father of 3 young girls, married 9 years, loved by all who knew him. It hit close to home, and I just didn't have the words to even try to talk about any of it, mostly out of respect for Katie. I know no matter how strongly I identify with this situation, her grief is infinitely worse in losing her brother.
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As everyone probably knows, Katie is Derek's (Joe's business partner's) wife. I've thought a lot this week...wondered.... about how on earth things have gotten so bad. The four of us (Derek, Katie, Joe and I) have had unbelievably good, carefree, happy times. We shared a period of our lives that was FULL in so many ways. We shared a future together because of the business. At times I feel like we are three "kids" all of a sudden thrust into an adult world. I don't know why I feel that way. I felt like we were adults before....but all of a sudden I feel like all three of us are completely out of our element. It's crazy.
I miss my husband.
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Monday, October 29, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
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The kids have been saying more stuff that makes me know that they are feeling the longing to see their father. It's hard to convey the things that they say and honestly, the words are only part of it.
They are basically coming to grips with the fact that they are not going to see him again and that this is real.
It tears me apart.
The grief that I feel in terms of me not seeing my husband again is horrible, and my children's grief is equally as horrible for me.
I am carrying three huge loads of grief. One load is enough.
Please do not comment to this post.
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The kids have been saying more stuff that makes me know that they are feeling the longing to see their father. It's hard to convey the things that they say and honestly, the words are only part of it.
They are basically coming to grips with the fact that they are not going to see him again and that this is real.
It tears me apart.
The grief that I feel in terms of me not seeing my husband again is horrible, and my children's grief is equally as horrible for me.
I am carrying three huge loads of grief. One load is enough.
Please do not comment to this post.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Sunday, October 14, 2007
My House
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I have heard rumblings of whether or not I will stay in my house a lot since the accident. Not many people have asked me the question directly, but I've heard the discussion.
It is an obvious question. Joe and I bought this house before we were even married.
We built our married life together here. We planned our futures here. We brought both of our children home to this house. We celebrated here. We got awful news here. We watched our children grow from babies to toddlers here. We ate dinners together here. We had huge fights here. We had Christmases here. We had Thanksgivings here. We lived here.
So I'm staying.
I would never know how I would feel until I was in the shoes that I am in...but I can not leave my house. It is difficult for sure. All of Joe's stuff is around me. I haven't changed much because I want things to stay constant for my children. I would never in a million years take them out of the only home they have ever known. I believe it is more important than ever for them to sleep in their own beds in their own rooms...to come home to the same place...to play in the same places that they always have.
It is difficult because this house also holds my darkest hour. I was hysterical in these rooms. I stood on the front deck, holding the phone that I hold every day, and I heard the words from the doctor.
I walked around these rooms in the days immediately following the accident and I could hardly breathe (and I mean that literally). I laid on the couch and cried while my mother held me, for hours.
My house was a sad place on those days.
But the mood in my house has not been that way since those first few days. At any given time here, there is activity, happiness, chatter, singing, living.
The words I write here are sad, as are my feelings, but we are not sitting around doing nothing and wallowing in despair. I would not want that for my children. They have to see that life goes on, and there is still lots and lots of happiness, among sadness.
We miss Joe so much and there is a piece missing from our house. We talk about him all the time with smiles on our faces.
There is a sign on my wall that says:
"Home is where your favorite memories are".
So, we're home.
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I have heard rumblings of whether or not I will stay in my house a lot since the accident. Not many people have asked me the question directly, but I've heard the discussion.
It is an obvious question. Joe and I bought this house before we were even married.
We built our married life together here. We planned our futures here. We brought both of our children home to this house. We celebrated here. We got awful news here. We watched our children grow from babies to toddlers here. We ate dinners together here. We had huge fights here. We had Christmases here. We had Thanksgivings here. We lived here.
So I'm staying.
I would never know how I would feel until I was in the shoes that I am in...but I can not leave my house. It is difficult for sure. All of Joe's stuff is around me. I haven't changed much because I want things to stay constant for my children. I would never in a million years take them out of the only home they have ever known. I believe it is more important than ever for them to sleep in their own beds in their own rooms...to come home to the same place...to play in the same places that they always have.
It is difficult because this house also holds my darkest hour. I was hysterical in these rooms. I stood on the front deck, holding the phone that I hold every day, and I heard the words from the doctor.
I walked around these rooms in the days immediately following the accident and I could hardly breathe (and I mean that literally). I laid on the couch and cried while my mother held me, for hours.
My house was a sad place on those days.
But the mood in my house has not been that way since those first few days. At any given time here, there is activity, happiness, chatter, singing, living.
The words I write here are sad, as are my feelings, but we are not sitting around doing nothing and wallowing in despair. I would not want that for my children. They have to see that life goes on, and there is still lots and lots of happiness, among sadness.
We miss Joe so much and there is a piece missing from our house. We talk about him all the time with smiles on our faces.
There is a sign on my wall that says:
"Home is where your favorite memories are".
So, we're home.
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Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Chalifour Vodka Friday
Sometime in 2006 when Alyssa was sleeping regularly through the night I realized that **maybe** I could have a couple cocktails and not worry about having to get up at night, etc. I had pretty much given up having any alcohol at all for years...since I got pregnant with Luke. Well this turned out to be so much fun, I gave it a name ("Chalifour Vodka Friday") and it kind of took on a life of it's own. Basically, it was our night. We had an agreement that neither of us would make any plans with anyone on a Friday. We also had an agreement that we did not ask if Chalifour Vodka Friday was on, because, if it was Friday, IT WAS ON.
It was so awesome.
I was being silly one day and I wrote down the rules (below) and hung them up. If you read these rules, you might be like "why does Joe have to do everything?" and the honest truth is that he didn't have to do anything, but he liked to. He did most of the things on the list anyway, and I liked it so much I decided to make them actual rules, so he didn't ever get any funny ideas of changing anything. :-)
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Official rules of “Chalifour Vodka Friday”
1. All drinks are to be made by Joe upon need.
2. Under-counter lights are to be left on during festivities.
3. Ice bucket is to be kept full at all times, and maintained by Joe.
4. Joe is to get all cards and coins out as needed.
5. All ice, drink glasses and straws are to be disposed of before bed, so that no one gets up to any evidence that CVF ever occurred.
6. All are kind to their future selves…take water up and take an aspirin.
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Oh my gosh Joe I miss you so much.
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It was so awesome.
I was being silly one day and I wrote down the rules (below) and hung them up. If you read these rules, you might be like "why does Joe have to do everything?" and the honest truth is that he didn't have to do anything, but he liked to. He did most of the things on the list anyway, and I liked it so much I decided to make them actual rules, so he didn't ever get any funny ideas of changing anything. :-)
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Official rules of “Chalifour Vodka Friday”
1. All drinks are to be made by Joe upon need.
2. Under-counter lights are to be left on during festivities.
3. Ice bucket is to be kept full at all times, and maintained by Joe.
4. Joe is to get all cards and coins out as needed.
5. All ice, drink glasses and straws are to be disposed of before bed, so that no one gets up to any evidence that CVF ever occurred.
6. All are kind to their future selves…take water up and take an aspirin.
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Oh my gosh Joe I miss you so much.
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Monday, October 8, 2007
I Miss You
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Joe used to say "I missed you today" to me a lot when he got home from work. He said it so much that I actually would be like, "what do you mean, you missed me? I just saw you like, 9 hours ago". Honestly, my family will attest that I did not understand this. I wasn't trying to be mean or rude or anything, I just didn't understand why he said it so much, because I didn't think that he really could miss me after such a short time, and so often.
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I had pretty much forgotten this phenomenon in the last couple of months. Tonight when I was driving home from the grocery store (alone), I let out a deep loud sigh, as I often do when I am alone, and out of my mouth came "I miss you". My mind went instantly to him and how much he said it to me.
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Once again I was reminded of how lucky I am that Joe was so vocal and freely giving of his love and feelings for me. I have hundreds of I missed you todays to remember and now I don't wonder at all why he said them.
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Joe used to say "I missed you today" to me a lot when he got home from work. He said it so much that I actually would be like, "what do you mean, you missed me? I just saw you like, 9 hours ago". Honestly, my family will attest that I did not understand this. I wasn't trying to be mean or rude or anything, I just didn't understand why he said it so much, because I didn't think that he really could miss me after such a short time, and so often.
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I had pretty much forgotten this phenomenon in the last couple of months. Tonight when I was driving home from the grocery store (alone), I let out a deep loud sigh, as I often do when I am alone, and out of my mouth came "I miss you". My mind went instantly to him and how much he said it to me.
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Once again I was reminded of how lucky I am that Joe was so vocal and freely giving of his love and feelings for me. I have hundreds of I missed you todays to remember and now I don't wonder at all why he said them.
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Sunday, October 7, 2007
Friday, October 5, 2007
After we got back from vacation in early July I had a swollen lymph node behind my ear. I went to the doctor and he looked at it and wanted me to see a head and neck surgeon. He said to me "I can't rule out lymphoma". I was totally freaked out and I went home and looked it up online (big mistake....not recommending that to anyone EVER). So anyway, I spent a week thinking about this dumb lump. As it turns out, it went away and it seems to have been nothing serious.
I am talking about this because it actually is a very important piece of this puzzle. It figures into the time frame of when I came home from camp because I was supposed to go to a doctor's appointment on July 26. I have thought several times that if only I hadn't had the appointment, I would have come home earlier in the week and none of this would have happened. Those "what if's" are endless though, and I gave up on them a long time ago.
Another reason why this lump was important in all of this is because it sparked a deep and ironic conversation between Joe and I a week before the accident. I will post about that another time.
And the other thing that I have thought of over and over is this email from Joe, from July 12:
Hi-
I just wanted to let you know that you absolutely shouldn’t worry about anything until you know for sure what it is…Hun really, I know it’s hard not to think about what it could be but 99% of the time we worry about stuff that never comes about.
I love you…Let me know when your appointment is.
What I am struck by is that he said "99% of the time we worry about stuff that never comes about". One of my biggest thoughts on a day-to-day basis regarding Joe's accident is that "I can't believe what I worried about happening, actually happened". It's the strangest thing. I worried about Joe on his bike all the time. We would see accidents on the news and he would get right in my face and say "You don't have to worry about me Robin". I worried less as more years passed. This summer was the first summer since he got the bike when I really was kind of getting used to idea of him having a motorcycle and it being "okay".
I am just saying, it is very odd feeling to have your worst fear come true. It is very odd to have my worry not be part of that 99%.
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I am talking about this because it actually is a very important piece of this puzzle. It figures into the time frame of when I came home from camp because I was supposed to go to a doctor's appointment on July 26. I have thought several times that if only I hadn't had the appointment, I would have come home earlier in the week and none of this would have happened. Those "what if's" are endless though, and I gave up on them a long time ago.
Another reason why this lump was important in all of this is because it sparked a deep and ironic conversation between Joe and I a week before the accident. I will post about that another time.
And the other thing that I have thought of over and over is this email from Joe, from July 12:
Hi-
I just wanted to let you know that you absolutely shouldn’t worry about anything until you know for sure what it is…Hun really, I know it’s hard not to think about what it could be but 99% of the time we worry about stuff that never comes about.
I love you…Let me know when your appointment is.
What I am struck by is that he said "99% of the time we worry about stuff that never comes about". One of my biggest thoughts on a day-to-day basis regarding Joe's accident is that "I can't believe what I worried about happening, actually happened". It's the strangest thing. I worried about Joe on his bike all the time. We would see accidents on the news and he would get right in my face and say "You don't have to worry about me Robin". I worried less as more years passed. This summer was the first summer since he got the bike when I really was kind of getting used to idea of him having a motorcycle and it being "okay".
I am just saying, it is very odd feeling to have your worst fear come true. It is very odd to have my worry not be part of that 99%.
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Thursday, October 4, 2007
To Everyone
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I have received many emails, cards, etc recently from people who read my blogs, specifically Left. Some people express that they feel guilty in a way for not commenting, or feel like they are being nosey or like they are reading something that they shouldn't be.
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It is true that the subject matter here is extremely personal, and often makes me feel quite vulnerable, but it would not be accurate to say that it paints a complete picture of my thoughts. Everything put here is done so with the knowledge that anyone who wants to can read it. I have many many many MANY thoughts and writings that truely are too personal, hence "not bloggable".
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So if you are wondering "Should I be reading this?" the answer from me is "Yes, you should."
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I want to let all of you know that I have no need to know every person who reads this blog. You do not need to comment and you do not need to "confess". You are welcome here. If you are reading, you must care about my children or Joe or me, and for that I am honored and extremely grateful.
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What I hope is that those of you who pray, will pray for my children.
What I hope is that those of you who do not pray, will send comforting, peaceful thoughts to my children.
What I hope is that those thoughts and prayers will somehow guide us through this tragedy, so that my children can live happy childhoods and grow up to be happy adults, in spite of what they have and must endure.
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I have received many emails, cards, etc recently from people who read my blogs, specifically Left. Some people express that they feel guilty in a way for not commenting, or feel like they are being nosey or like they are reading something that they shouldn't be.
.
It is true that the subject matter here is extremely personal, and often makes me feel quite vulnerable, but it would not be accurate to say that it paints a complete picture of my thoughts. Everything put here is done so with the knowledge that anyone who wants to can read it. I have many many many MANY thoughts and writings that truely are too personal, hence "not bloggable".
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So if you are wondering "Should I be reading this?" the answer from me is "Yes, you should."
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I want to let all of you know that I have no need to know every person who reads this blog. You do not need to comment and you do not need to "confess". You are welcome here. If you are reading, you must care about my children or Joe or me, and for that I am honored and extremely grateful.
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What I hope is that those of you who pray, will pray for my children.
What I hope is that those of you who do not pray, will send comforting, peaceful thoughts to my children.
What I hope is that those thoughts and prayers will somehow guide us through this tragedy, so that my children can live happy childhoods and grow up to be happy adults, in spite of what they have and must endure.
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Wednesday, October 3, 2007
What Happened
Someone asked me the other day "Did they find out what happened?" regarding the accident. I was kind of taken by surprised by this question because I pretty much have always known the gist of what happened. Of course I don't know particular details but this person mentioned that in the newspaper he saw that it said "speed might have been a factor". Again I was surprised by this because I realized all of a sudden that generally speaking people may not know some basic facts regarding the accident.
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This is what I know:
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After a normal 7:30 to 4:30ish day at work, Joe went to Hannaford to pick us up something to grill for dinner. It was Wednesday and we had not seen each other since Sunday. It was a beautiful day. He was riding his motorcycle, as he did most days from Spring to Fall.
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He left Hannaford, and began the 6 1/2 mile drive home.
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Joe was driving the speed limit or slower (according to the police) and a dump truck pulling a flat bed trailer traveling in the opposite direction, took a left hand turn, drove directly into his path, leaving Joe with nowhere to go.
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Joe used his brakes, could not stop in time, and collided with the trailer, as I understand it. I have driven by this place many, many times because I have to to get mostly anywhere. I have not found the courage to stop as of yet to inspect the area myself. However, while driving, I am disturbed every single time I see how short and straight the skid mark is.
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Joe was not speeding.
Joe's motorcycle was in excellent operating condition, with his headlight on.
Joe was wearing a helmet.
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Joe was riding his motorcycle straight down the road on a beautiful summer day, going home to his wife whom he hadn't seen in 3 days.
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There were several witnesses that saw what happened.
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I have to say the next things because I want to state the obvious so there are no questions:
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In terms of Joe, there was no speeding involved.
In terms of Joe, there was no alcohol involoved.
In terms of Joe, there were no drugs involved.
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I can say those things regarding Joe, because the police detective told me that "Joe was doing everything right". He specifically said that they do not believe that Joe was speeding.
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I have no information about the driver of the dump truck.
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The police continue their investigation and I am told that it will be months before they close the case. At that time the State will decide whether or not to press criminal charges. That has nothing to do with me at all. The truth is that I have only spoken to the police two times since this all began. You have to understand that regardless of what they find out, my husband is still gone. Nothing changes that for me or for my children.
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So that is what I know about the accident.
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This is what I know:
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After a normal 7:30 to 4:30ish day at work, Joe went to Hannaford to pick us up something to grill for dinner. It was Wednesday and we had not seen each other since Sunday. It was a beautiful day. He was riding his motorcycle, as he did most days from Spring to Fall.
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He left Hannaford, and began the 6 1/2 mile drive home.
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Joe was driving the speed limit or slower (according to the police) and a dump truck pulling a flat bed trailer traveling in the opposite direction, took a left hand turn, drove directly into his path, leaving Joe with nowhere to go.
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Joe used his brakes, could not stop in time, and collided with the trailer, as I understand it. I have driven by this place many, many times because I have to to get mostly anywhere. I have not found the courage to stop as of yet to inspect the area myself. However, while driving, I am disturbed every single time I see how short and straight the skid mark is.
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Joe was not speeding.
Joe's motorcycle was in excellent operating condition, with his headlight on.
Joe was wearing a helmet.
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Joe was riding his motorcycle straight down the road on a beautiful summer day, going home to his wife whom he hadn't seen in 3 days.
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There were several witnesses that saw what happened.
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I have to say the next things because I want to state the obvious so there are no questions:
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In terms of Joe, there was no speeding involved.
In terms of Joe, there was no alcohol involoved.
In terms of Joe, there were no drugs involved.
.
I can say those things regarding Joe, because the police detective told me that "Joe was doing everything right". He specifically said that they do not believe that Joe was speeding.
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I have no information about the driver of the dump truck.
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The police continue their investigation and I am told that it will be months before they close the case. At that time the State will decide whether or not to press criminal charges. That has nothing to do with me at all. The truth is that I have only spoken to the police two times since this all began. You have to understand that regardless of what they find out, my husband is still gone. Nothing changes that for me or for my children.
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So that is what I know about the accident.
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Tuesday, October 2, 2007
What Luke Doesn't Know
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Immediately following our conversation that I spoke of yesterday, on the way to Hannaford, Luke had another question for me. This question was something I had been fearing since the day I told Luke and Alyssa what happened, which was July 27. The question from Luke, from the back seat of my car, was:
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"Where did daddy die?"
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This question is really difficult for me for a few reasons. The first is that Luke is a roads type of guy. Ever since he was very small, and I mean VERY small, like 2 or 3, he has always paid attention to stores, roads, and the general what's what when we go places. To this day, when we are driving around he always knows how to get wherever we are going, what we are going to drive by en route to our destination and what new construction is going on, etc. He likes that kind of thing.
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The second thing that is difficult for me is that the spot where the accident occurred is in front of a (plant) nursery down the street from us which we frequented. I have spent lots of time and money at this place and the kids know it well.
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Third, the spot where the accident occurred is on a road that we used to travel on all of the time. I have talked about this before. Lately I go out of my way to not go that way, but still, the accident site is close by and very familiar to Luke.
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I have worried about this question from Luke for the past two months, and somehow I thought when he asked it, I might have figured out an answer. But I had no answer.
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Luke: "Where did daddy die?"
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Robin: "Where did daddy die? (................long pause...............) I am not sure Luke, but I will find out for you."
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Luke: "FIND OUT??!! How are you going to find out?? You weren't there were you?" (This kind of comment shows exactly how innocent and unknowing a kid is about what occurs when there is an accident)
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Robin: "When there is a serious accident like what daddy was in Luke, lots of people go like police officers and firemen and people like that. I will talk to them and find out where it happened."
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Luke did not pressure me for further details and the conversation ended there. Honestly, I have done my absolute best to answer every question Luke asks me to the best of my ability and with complete truthfulness up to this point. It really bothers me to not tell him the truth. But I can not understand what the right thing to do is. I know that what I know about the accident is very difficult for me to deal with. There are times, lots and lots of times, when I myself really cannot deal with what I know. I don't know what to do with the thoughts and images in my head. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is such a thing as "too much information". I have to protect my son from this fact, because I can't think of anything at all to be gained by it for him. Maybe I will change my mind, maybe someone will tell me something that will make sense about what I should tell Luke. Until then, I will hope that he doesn't ask the question again. Because if he does, I don't know what I will tell him.
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I will also add that this topic is very painful for me to write about. Very sharp and difficult to even write the words.
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,
Immediately following our conversation that I spoke of yesterday, on the way to Hannaford, Luke had another question for me. This question was something I had been fearing since the day I told Luke and Alyssa what happened, which was July 27. The question from Luke, from the back seat of my car, was:
.
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"Where did daddy die?"
.
.
This question is really difficult for me for a few reasons. The first is that Luke is a roads type of guy. Ever since he was very small, and I mean VERY small, like 2 or 3, he has always paid attention to stores, roads, and the general what's what when we go places. To this day, when we are driving around he always knows how to get wherever we are going, what we are going to drive by en route to our destination and what new construction is going on, etc. He likes that kind of thing.
.
The second thing that is difficult for me is that the spot where the accident occurred is in front of a (plant) nursery down the street from us which we frequented. I have spent lots of time and money at this place and the kids know it well.
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Third, the spot where the accident occurred is on a road that we used to travel on all of the time. I have talked about this before. Lately I go out of my way to not go that way, but still, the accident site is close by and very familiar to Luke.
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I have worried about this question from Luke for the past two months, and somehow I thought when he asked it, I might have figured out an answer. But I had no answer.
.
Luke: "Where did daddy die?"
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Robin: "Where did daddy die? (................long pause...............) I am not sure Luke, but I will find out for you."
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Luke: "FIND OUT??!! How are you going to find out?? You weren't there were you?" (This kind of comment shows exactly how innocent and unknowing a kid is about what occurs when there is an accident)
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Robin: "When there is a serious accident like what daddy was in Luke, lots of people go like police officers and firemen and people like that. I will talk to them and find out where it happened."
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Luke did not pressure me for further details and the conversation ended there. Honestly, I have done my absolute best to answer every question Luke asks me to the best of my ability and with complete truthfulness up to this point. It really bothers me to not tell him the truth. But I can not understand what the right thing to do is. I know that what I know about the accident is very difficult for me to deal with. There are times, lots and lots of times, when I myself really cannot deal with what I know. I don't know what to do with the thoughts and images in my head. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is such a thing as "too much information". I have to protect my son from this fact, because I can't think of anything at all to be gained by it for him. Maybe I will change my mind, maybe someone will tell me something that will make sense about what I should tell Luke. Until then, I will hope that he doesn't ask the question again. Because if he does, I don't know what I will tell him.
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I will also add that this topic is very painful for me to write about. Very sharp and difficult to even write the words.
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Monday, October 1, 2007
What Luke Knows
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This topic is something that has been kind of unfolding over the last few weeks and, like many other topics, I have been unable to sort it out in my head enough to write it down. Many things feel too personal to write here...though you might think that's just nuts considering the deeply personal nature of what I have already written. Anyway, here is the first part and the next part will be my next post.
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Last monday Luke and I were driving in the car. We were going to Hannaford. He asked me "mommy, did daddy die at Hannaford?". My heart sunk just to hear those words--did daddy die-- out of his mouth. I just can't get used to that and I (literally) wince every time I hear it.
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Robin: "No Luke, why do you think that he died at Hannaford?"
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Luke: "Because of my dream. Daddy told me he went to Hannaford after he went to work".
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I thought about this for a minute because this is the second time Luke has referenced "his dream". The first time was back when I took him to the NASCAR qualifying thing, a few weeks ago. We were riding into the racetrack and he said:
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Luke: "Did daddy hit a dump truck?"
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Robin (completely dumbfounded): "A dump truck...well the truck was pulling a trailer Luke, and daddy hit the trailer. But yes, the truck pulling the trailer was a small dump truck. How did you know that?"
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Luke: "From my dream. I had a dream and daddy told me he hit a dump truck".
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I racked my brain trying to remember if I told Luke that the truck was a dump truck. I could not remember. Both times Luke quickly changed the subject when I asked him other questions about his dream. The second time, I pushed a little more and then he just said "I was just kidding, I didn't have a dream". I am pretty sure he just didn't want to/couldn't answer my questions. I have thought of this conversation several times since it happened, and I just kind of thought that he must have heard someone talking about the accident...though I know people are careful around him.
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I do not have any ideas or theories about what is going on with this. I am just documenting what he said and I think it's a little odd, and very interesting. Prior to these incidences, Luke has rarely mentioned the word "dream" to me, much less tell me anything that happened in one of his dreams.
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This topic is something that has been kind of unfolding over the last few weeks and, like many other topics, I have been unable to sort it out in my head enough to write it down. Many things feel too personal to write here...though you might think that's just nuts considering the deeply personal nature of what I have already written. Anyway, here is the first part and the next part will be my next post.
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Last monday Luke and I were driving in the car. We were going to Hannaford. He asked me "mommy, did daddy die at Hannaford?". My heart sunk just to hear those words--did daddy die-- out of his mouth. I just can't get used to that and I (literally) wince every time I hear it.
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Robin: "No Luke, why do you think that he died at Hannaford?"
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Luke: "Because of my dream. Daddy told me he went to Hannaford after he went to work".
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I thought about this for a minute because this is the second time Luke has referenced "his dream". The first time was back when I took him to the NASCAR qualifying thing, a few weeks ago. We were riding into the racetrack and he said:
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Luke: "Did daddy hit a dump truck?"
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Robin (completely dumbfounded): "A dump truck...well the truck was pulling a trailer Luke, and daddy hit the trailer. But yes, the truck pulling the trailer was a small dump truck. How did you know that?"
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Luke: "From my dream. I had a dream and daddy told me he hit a dump truck".
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I racked my brain trying to remember if I told Luke that the truck was a dump truck. I could not remember. Both times Luke quickly changed the subject when I asked him other questions about his dream. The second time, I pushed a little more and then he just said "I was just kidding, I didn't have a dream". I am pretty sure he just didn't want to/couldn't answer my questions. I have thought of this conversation several times since it happened, and I just kind of thought that he must have heard someone talking about the accident...though I know people are careful around him.
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I do not have any ideas or theories about what is going on with this. I am just documenting what he said and I think it's a little odd, and very interesting. Prior to these incidences, Luke has rarely mentioned the word "dream" to me, much less tell me anything that happened in one of his dreams.
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