Hello blogsters-

I think I have been recuperating from the last few weeks. I have relief that the hearing is over and I never really thought about life beyond that too much. Jordyn's Ride was on Saturday and that was an emotional day for me. I didn't think it would be really, and I didn't go or participate in any way, but just thinking about it made me so freaking sad. The bikers rode by the cemetery and I went there to be "with Joe" while they went by. I was there about a half hour early and I surprised myself because I basically sat there on the grass and cried hard for a long time. It's just so wrong that he's not here. I am still asking myself 11 months later how the hell this happened.

I also went to the cross for the first time ever, at the site of the accident. I did this on the day before the hearing. I could never bring myself to go there, much less stop my car and get out. That day I was feeling so worried about the hearing that I needed to just prove to myself that I was strong and I could face something difficult. So I faced the cross. It went okay. I sat there in front of it and looked at it for a long time. I will never stop missing Joe. And I will never stop loving him. But my love for him is different now. It is just as deep and just as much a part of me as it ever was. But it is more that I love the spirit of who he was, the way he lived, the way we loved each other and what that added to my life. It is unbelievably sad to lose that "being in love with" feeling with him. But the fact is that he is not here. And being "in love with" takes two people. It's just the way it is. It makes me cry sometimes because I am grieving not only the loss of this wonderful person and the father of my children, but also this great love of my life. That in itself is desperately sad. But I will be okay. I know that because although a lot of the things that happened in the past year were beyond my control, my future is not. That part is up to me. And I have the same desire that I did when I was 20, before even meeting Joe, that my life will be great. And somehow I know that at some point it will be again.

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It's Thursday.
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This week is very stressful for me. There is a hearing on Thursday in which the driver that hit and killed my husband will find out if he will lose his license and for how long. I have the opportunity to write an impact statement that I can read or can be read for me at the hearing and suggest how long his license should be taken away for. Honestly this has been on my mind and causing me to be on edge for a few weeks. I know that I absolutely 100% will do it, and I also know that I absolutely 100% do not want to do it. I am doing it for one reason and one reason only...and that is that Joe deserves for someone to stand up there for him and try to express what he was in this world, that his life was important. That's why I will do my best at it....I just don't know what my best is at this point.
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It will be the first time that I lay eyes on the driver. You know, the guy that drove a dump truck and trailer in front of Joe and killed him pretty much instantly and has never offered me or my family any words of sympathy. I can hear the excuses....maybe someone told him not to for whatever reason and to that I say a big F YOU BUDDY. To some people integrity and being human would be more important than saving your own ass, especially if you kill someone.
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At first just the idea of trying to write an impact statement was just too daunting to me. Now I have kind of a first draft but I sit there and look at it and know that I don't even know how to write it. How the hell does someone contain something like that in words? I just don't even know. The whole thing just pisses me off.
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And to have to stand there and read it out loud...how am I going to do that?
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I just want to get in and out, keep the drama to a minimum and be done with it.

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I am stressed out and tired.
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It's weird how some days like today (father's day) can be worse than what you expected.

Today I just want someone to hug me and tell me that everything will be okay, that Joe is alright and that my kids will be okay.

I was sitting at my desk this morning, tears pouring out of my eyes but I was quiet. The kids were playing with the puppy. All of a sudden they were beside me talking to me. I turned to them and told them "You guys I'm sad about daddy today". Alyssa just went about her business with the dog. Luke got the same nervous look that he always does when he sees me like this. I hugged him and kept telling him that I am fine, I am fine, I am fine. I know it's hard for him to see me like that. I feel a little guilty when he sees my tears, but this is life.....and that was his dad.

Father's Day

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is hurting........... a lot.
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Luke's Saturday at Fenway

As you might imagine, taking Luke to Fenway Park was something that Joe talked about often, and couldn't wait to do. He hadn't done it yet because he wanted to wait until Luke really liked and appreciated the Red Sox, and that happened last summer in large part due to his cousin Jesse. This would definitely have been the year that my husband took our son to see the Red Sox.

Because I knew it was important to Joe, I wanted to take Luke in a way that Joe would be proud of. As I have said before on this blog, Joe's brother Jeff has visited the kids at least every weekend since last summer. Jeff and Luke have spent a lot of time playing baseball and making up their own way of playing inside even during the winter. Derek was Joe's best friend outside his own family and he also plays ball with Luke at our house and remains a very special friend to me and Luke and Alyssa. I knew that taking those two people in his absence would make Joe happy.

I had been really excited for the game myself, but the night before I started to get a little worried that I might lose it during the National Anthem or at some other point during the day. Joe and Luke always sang the National Anthem together ever since Luke learned how to talk....since it played before any sporting event that they watched on TV. The night before the game I went outside onto my back deck where Joe and I went lots of times when it was warm in the summer. I cried and said I was sorry to Joe a hundred times. I feel so sorry for him that he was not the one doing this, that he was not taking Luke to Fenway park.

In my grief group they talked about it being possible to experience great joy and great sadness at the same time. This was an example of that for me. To see Joe's brother and his best friend hold hands with my son and walk him through Yawkey Way for the first time and into the ball park I felt both emotions....deep joy at what wonderful people these two men are and how lucky I am to have them care so much about Luke, and deep sadness to think that Joe would have given anything to be the one holding his hand.

All in all it really was a great day. I focused on the fact that this is what it is, and it IS GREAT that Joe had people who loved him so much that they felt honored to take his son to his first Red Sox game....that they did it up for him, keeping him in mind, with no sadness, but lots of fun, just the way he would have wanted it.

If you're reading, thanks Jeff and Derek. You guys are the best.

I am complex, but I like things simple

Some of you have inquired about my blog entry on Friday night (below dated Saturday May 31) where I wrote about wanting to break my windows, etc......and also worried as to why I was writing at 3 in the morning. I found it surprising that people would think that was weird...but then I remind myself that to people who spend time with me, on the outside I look and act okay. And I am "okay". My life is very full in many ways, but I do have this piece of myself that is always grieving/always sad/always missing/always angry/always wishing to break something. I used to have this "fantasy" of taking all my breakable dishes down to the basement and throwing them against the wall, one at a time. Now I guess it's switched to smashing windows. My house looks beautiful now with all it's new shingles and the changes that I made, but sometimes I look at it and I want to smash it back to the way it was before.

Regarding why I was blogging at 3am....the short answer is that I am a night person. I always go to bed pretty late but sometimes I'll fall asleep and wake up and stay up for a few hours and then go back to sleep again. I didn't use to be that way but that just seems to be the way it is now. I'm okay with it. I like the night time hours, especially the early, early morning hours. However, all that being said last Friday was a really hard night for me for lots of reasons, some regarding Joe and some not. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh what ever happened to my life?

The title of my post sums up how I feel right now. I am trying hard to sort things out in my head but I feel so confused a lot of the time because there are so many things to be thought about. I always feel like my mind is a jumble of information, and I can't formulate answers. Since everything feels so complex, I search for things and people that are simple, straight forward and true. Like my friend Jamie....she is....simple, straight forward and true. I love that and I feel so lucky to have her.

At some point I need to take care of Joe's things that are still in our bedroom. Yes, I know, many of you will be like "What??!!! You haven't done that already?", and the answer to that is no. However, it is quite common according to what I've been told in my grief group and other widows to not have done this yet.

Basically what I am specifically talking about is his bureau and the piles of clothes around it (his laundry that had not been taken care of) that are on the floor. I guess I am also talking about his closet though I keep those doors closed and don't think about that too much.

I've gone back and forth.....at first it was just way too difficult and overwhelming to think about moving/going through his clothes. I didn't want to force it. As the months went by I just started hoping that at some point I might want to do it and that at that time it might not be so painful. And now....well I feel kind of like I want to but I am still a little scared about it.

I think about my kids and what they think about their daddy's stuff still being right there on the floor. They don't say anything to me about it...and maybe kids just don't even consciously see that stuff. But sometimes I worry that it sends the wrong message....especially to Alyssa.....that her daddy might be coming back and need those things.

Last weekend I opened up his sock drawer and tucked in the side was a picture of me. Joe and I lived in a few places together before we lived in this house and everywhere we lived he always kept that same picture of me in his sock drawer. I took it out and looked at it for a minute and felt a deep sting of sadness.....but as I stood there and held it for a few more seconds I just felt loved.

It's funny the things that we hold on to and that have meaning to us. I have every item that Joe owned, all different things that could seem meaningful. But honestly, I have one thing that I've carried around with me since the day of the accident. It is a bottle cap, from one of the last beers he opened. For whatever reason I picked it off the counter at my house and put it in my pocket. I put it in my bag and it's been there (and I've keeping track of it, making sure not to lose it) for the last 10 months. When I see it, it reminds me of him in a nice way. Weird, I know.