I am posting this Chapter today, 12/31/2016, even though, chronologically, I have only posted about the first month (March 2012) following the loss of my husband. I thought pulling this post up and sharing it tonight might help others who experienced a heartbreaking loss this year.
December 31, 2012 was nearly ten months after the passing of
my husband. I woke that morning
with conflicting feelings. Part of
me wanted to run, somewhat literally, into 2013, away from 2012, which had been
the worse year of my 43 year life.
But a bigger part of me wanted to stay in 2012. Why? Because Gordie was alive in 2012, even if it was for just a
short period of time. It sounds
ridiculous but I wanted to stay living in a year in which my husband actually
lived. Moving into a new year felt
like moving on and I was not ready to move on.
I peeled myself out of bed, got the boys some breakfast and
went back to my room. I dragged
out old picture albums and my computer and spent hours looking at pictures from
our life together. I sat on the
floor and hugged our engagement picture.
“Please come back”, I whispered.
I finally put the pictures away and got my running clothes
on. I dressed the boys, brushed
their teeth and took them over to my parents' house so they could watch them
while I went for a run.
As I ran, I tried to think positively about 2013.
It had to be better. Right?
But as I headed up the street towards an entrance to Mount
Diablo Park, a thought popped into my head that nearly made me halt.
What if it’s not
better? What if something worse
happens?
For me the only thing worse than losing my husband would be
losing one of my children.
There is no way God
would do that to me… right?
But what if other bad things that I constantly worry about
happen in 2013? What if I do not
have enough money to meet my obligations and give the boys the life I want to
give them? I spent a lot of money during
December. I just kept throwing
money at things trying to get through the holidays. I did not even think about it. If it made my boys happy or gave me a moment of happiness, I
spent it. What if I had been reckless?
What if I lose my job?
Worry. Worry.
Worry.
What if 2013 is a
financial disaster?
What if something else
bad happens in 2013? I will not be
able to survive another bad year.
I started running faster. The fear and the worry were pulsating through my body and
driving my pace like an electrical charge. I ran five miles and barely felt it. All I felt was a mix of horrible
emotions: worry, fear, and
sadness.
We had no invitations for New Year’s Eve so the boys and I
spent it at home. I tried to make
it a special evening with small things that make boys ages 7 and 2 happy. We went and got their favorite
pizza. We bought ingredients to
make ice cream sundaes. We toasted
Gordie with a bottle of sparking apple cider. We used Nathan’s new video game and had a Dance Party
contest.
I let the boys stay up until 10pm and then put them to
bed. We said a prayer for a better
2013.
I went back into our family room and sat on the couch. I grabbed the remote and started
searching stations. My heart
stopped when I saw South Park on the listing. After Nathan was born, Gordie and I had spent many New
Year’s Eves watching South Park marathons and eating a special dinner after
putting Nathan to bed. I never,
ever watched South Park except on those New Year’s Eves with Gordie. I quickly flipped past the listing on
the remote and turned to Dick Clark instead.
PitBull eventually came on. I thought of last year, watching the same show with
Gordie.
“That’s him?
That’s PitBull? He’s a
short, white, bald guy!” Gordie
said with amazement.
Me laughing.
“Yeah, but he rocks! Just
wait.”
After PitBull’s performance Gordie said, “You are
right. He rocks. I like him”.
I watched PitBull again on New Year’s 2012, but this time
alone. I then wrote a letter
to Gordie.
Dear Gordie:
Tonight is New Year’s Eve. It is the last day of the worse year of my entire life. A year where the word pain took on a
meaning I never wanted to understand.
Today is also the last day of the last year of your life. When I wake up tomorrow it will be 2013,
a year that you never lived. All
day I have both dreaded and welcomed the end of the year. I dread it because there will never
again be a year where you were with us for at least part of the year. There will never be another day when I
can think “earlier this year when he was still with us…”. So many times today I sank down against
a wall and sobbed as I thought about this.
The other part of me welcomes 2013 because of how awful 2012
was for me and more importantly, for our sons. Part of me wants to end this year by throwing it in the
garbage can or throwing it off a cliff.
2013 has to be better. It
just has to. I need it to be
better.
Tomorrow is the final day of the holiday season. I started dreading the holidays in
early October. I knew they were
going to be terrible and they absolutely were…for me. But I feel proud to tell you that I think they were more
than OK for our sons. I pray you
were able to see how I busted my ass to provide them a special, festive, and
fun holiday season, even though all I wanted to do each day was crawl in bed
and cry. And despite how difficult
and sad the season was for me, the smiles and joy on our sons’ faces made it
all worth it.
Tonight the boys and I ate pizza from one of their favorite
pizza places: a place that we
never went to when you were alive.
We said a toast for the new year and for you with Sparkling Apple
Cider. After dinner Nathan made us
ice cream sundaes and we toasted you with our spoons before we dug in. Then we played Nathan’s new Dance party
game on the Wii. All three of us
danced, even Wyatt. Tears fell
down my face as I watched the boys dancing. I wished so much that you could see them. Wyatt’s moves are just hysterical. I think he got them from you. In our prayer for you tonight we said
“please let 2013 be a better year for us but it will never be as good as the
first couple months of 2012”. It’s
so true. No year will ever be as
good as the first two months of 2012 because you will not be a part of it.
I am still so, so, so angry and sad. The 10th month anniversary
of your death is in two days and I am just as angry and just as sad. I am still somewhat in shock and
disbelief. There has not been one
day since you died that I have not said “how did he die? How did this happen?” I still lie in bed at night or in the
morning and think about that day and how you possibly could have fell in the
pool and died. It still makes no
sense to me.
As I sit here tonight I can’t help but think about past New
Year Eves with you. Our first one
together was in 1996. I think we
were in Tahoe. There are pictures
of us in Tahoe on a NY Eve but I can’t remember if it was that year or in
1997. I remember 1998 when we went
to New York for New Year’s Eve, saw the Lion King, and then counted down the
new year in Times Square. I will
always be glad we did that together. But the New Year’s Eves that I will always treasure
the most are the ones after we had Nathan. We would put him to bed, you would cook a special dinner,
and we would watch the South Park marathon. We never watched South Park except on NY Eve but we did this
ritual for years after we became parents.
There is a South Park marathon on tonight but I can’t watch it. It would put me into a state of
despair, which I am already nearly in.
For the past few days I have thought about what my New
Year’s resolution should be.
Honestly I feel that I really don’t need to have one this year because
of what I have been through but I’ve still been contemplating what makes
sense. I would love to resolve to
be happy and not sad anymore but I know that I would fail. I’ve considered resolving to find a new
career that would allow me to spend more time with our sons and lighten my
stress level. I think that would
be a good one to focus on but I worry about not figuring it out and
disappointing myself.
However, I remind myself that I have pulled myself and our sons through
this devastating loss thus far so I should feel confident that I can make
anything happen. So, that’s going
to be the one. I resolve to
finding a new career that allows me to be the kind of parent we wanted you to
be when we decided you should work only part time for the next several years. I’m going to give it my best try.
Oh, and Nathan and I decided that I should resolve to clean
up my language. I am sure you are
not surprised: you always told me
I needed to clean up my truck driver’s mouth. Well, now Wyatt is saying some naughty words. So, it’s time for me to clean up my
mouth.
So, those are my New Year Resolutions. To figure out a new career and to clean
up my mouth. I hope those sound
good to you. And, if I can find a
way to be a little happier and a little less sad in 2013, I will. But I can’t make any promises on that
one.
I’m still struggling with the existence of God and the
Afterworld. I want to believe but
it’s so hard to believe that a God would do this to the boys and me. However, I hope that if there is a God
and Heaven, you are looking out for us and doing what you can to bring us good things
in 2013. We could really use a
happy and easy year with a few good surprises.
I miss you Gordie.
I will miss 2012 more than any year because it was the last year that I
saw you, heard you laugh, watched you with our sons, slept next to you, and
shared every important moment with you.
But I refuse to say it was the last year that I was your wife. I will always be your wife. Always.
I miss you. I
love you.
Staci
At 11:10pm, I finished my letter, closed my computer, and
got ready for bed. I looked at
myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. Tears rolled down my face, slid into my mouth, and mixed with the toothpaste.
Tomorrow I will wake up in a year where Gordie never lived, I thought.
I got in bed, took one of my pills to help me sleep, and thankfully, fell asleep before midnight.
