I wasn’t done loving you

I could think of a million reasons why you couldn’t die.

Our daughter wasn’t old enough to ride a bike.  She needed  you to teach her.  You needed to see her go to Kindergarten and graduate from high school.  You needed to scare any boy she brought home.  You needed to walk her down the aisle when she got married.

You still had more to accomplish in your career.  You wanted to write a book.  I still hear about how much people miss your knowledge and expertise.

We had a cruise booked.  It was going to stop in Aruba.  We had so many other cruises we wanted to go on.  Except you didn’t want to go on an Alaskan cruise, but I knew you would eventually give into me.

All the other places we were supposed to go to.  You wanted to go to Texas and attend a high school football game because you loved Friday Night Lights.  You wanted to go to San Diego and see all the Top Gun sights.  And you wanted to go to Branson, Missouri.  I still don’t understand why you wanted to go to Branson, Missouri so badly.  Even if it’s the Nashville of the Ozarks.  I didn’t want to go, but eventually I would have given in.

We were supposed to have another baby. Our daughter was supposed to be a big sister.

You needed to leave to meet your best friend’s new son and all the other babies that have been born since you have passed.  It still hurts my heart to think that they have all been born into a “post-Bryon” world.

Some of the reasons that I didn’t want you to die were self serving.  You always took care of everything.  I didn’t know how I was going to do it without you.  I was pretty helpless before all this happened.  I wanted things to go back to normal.

I had to be strong during this trauma. I found out I was much stronger than I ever knew. I wanted you to know how well I handled everything.  I thought you would be proud of me.

But the major reason I didn’t want you to die was because I wasn’t done loving you.

We only got three anniversaries. We celebrated our first and third. Our second anniversary was nine days after our daughter was born and we forgot to celebrate it that year. I remember we were lying in bed and you said “Hey, it’s our anniversary today.” We never could have known that we would only have three anniversaries.  Maybe we would have found a way to celebrate that anniversary if we knew we were only going to have a few.

I thought about all the stupid fights we had.  I thought about all the times I got annoyed with you over stupid things.  I thought about all the times I didn’t appreciate all that you did for me.   You couldn’t die because I needed time to prove that I could be a better wife.

We were always so busy, caught up in our day to day lives.  I didn’t take the time to show I loved you.  We can’t get that time back.

I wasn’t ready to let you go. I wasn’t ready for you to die. I wanted a chance to do it better. I wasn’t done loving you.

You held on for five months in the ICU.  You survived septic shock many times.  Your organs shut down and you kept fighting.  No one can say that you didn’t fight.  You fought until the bitter end.

I knew you were fighting.  After sitting by your side for five months, I know you fought harder than anyone else in your situation would have.  Most people would have given up. You didn’t want to be done.  You wanted to accomplish more in your career.  You wanted to have more time with your friends.  You wanted to raise your daughter.

And maybe you weren’t done loving me either.

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My one fun night in New York City

 

Bryon spent the last two and a half weeks of his life in New York City.  I had him moved from our regional medical center because he needed better care.  It was two of the most optimistic and the most scariest weeks of my life.   I was optimistic because he had a world class medical team caring for him.  I was scared because he was still very sick and I knew that even if he survived, the road to recovery was going to be complicated.

I don’t usually think about my time in New York.  I mean, it ended with Bryon dying.  

Yesterday I was reading about how one of my blogging friends spent her birthday in NYC.  She spent part of her day in Washington Heights, which was the part of NYC where Bryon’s hospital was located.  

It dawned on me that I can’t ignore New York City forever.  Someday I will  have to return.  I may want to take my daughter to see the Rockettes or take her to the Natural History Museum.  Or the Bronx Zoo.  Or maybe I would go with my Spanish teacher friend to find an Argentinian restaurant.  Or to see The Bangles with Kimmy Gibbler and my Latin Teacher friend the next time they go on tour.  It would be ridiculous to avoid a whole city for the rest of my life because of what happened.  I will probably just avoid Washington Heights.

So I was reading my blogging friends birthday post and then I was on Facebook.  I checked “On This Day” and sure enough, it was a post about the one fun thing I did during those two and a half weeks.

My daughter’s Godmother came down with her (now) fiance and got hotel rooms in the Times Square area.  She was telling me all about the city as we drove downtown.  I am a small town girl from Maine after all.  We had dinner at a Mexican restaurant.  It was my one fun night in New York City.

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Margarita
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Tacos
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Seinfeld restaurant
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View from the hotel room

Though there were other good things about being in the city.

I had a family to stay with.  They didn’t even know me but they knew Bryon.  They welcomed me into their home and they were so kind to me.  They stay ended up being short but had Bryon survived, he might have been in the city for months.  They never once gave me a time limit.  I know they were rooting for the slow recovery.  It would worth a trip to NYC to see them and have them meet my daughter.

Bryon’s friends in NYC got to see him.  That was great.

The team was much more optimistic and Bryon’s spirits were the best they had been through the whole ordeal.  In Albany, Bryon was too depressed to facetime with our daughter, but in NYC, he was happy facetiming her.

Bryon still had his sense of humor.  It took me a week to figure out that I could take the express train to get to the hospital faster.  He shook his head and rolled his eyes at me.

But right now, NYC remains the city where Bryon died.  Maybe someday I will return but it probably won’t be anytime soon.

Be grateful

Today’s writing prompt came from Teresa’s Creations.  Two word prompt: “Be grateful

Be grateful.

That is what they say tell her.

She must not be grateful for what she has.

How would they even know?

Of course she is grateful.

For her daughter.

For her friends and family.

For her means.

For her health.

How dare they imply she isn’t grateful for that.

Can’t she just miss her husband?

She loves her friends, but they can’t fill the void he leaves.

She loves her daughter.  

Her daughter is young.  

It’s not fair to expect her to take the place of her father.  

People tell her to be grateful.

Do people even know what they are saying?

Do they not understand what she has been through?

Be grateful for what?

The pain?  

The agony?

The loneliness?

The loss of her dreams?

The lost plans?

The loss of security?

The loss of faith?

People think they are helping, but they don’t know.

Why can’t she just feel what she feels?

Why can’t she just be sad?

 

The start of our love story 

July 31, 2008
Somewhere in cyberspace

Bryon: cool

  when are you coming in tomorrow?

4:59 PM me: Depends on when I wake up and get on the road 🙂

 Bryon: lol

5:00 PM me: I actually wish I had known this was going to happen. I originally wanted to take tomorrow off and come out Thurs and go to Cooperstown on Fri

  But it was not meant to be. No baseball hall of fame for me

 Bryon: its not that great.

5:01 PM me: overated?

 Bryon: yeah. but I havent been in a few years

5:02 PM me: Thanks for crushing my hopes…

 Bryon: thats me though, you may like it

  you should come out early tomorrow and go.

5:03 PM Its not far from albany

 me: I doubt it

 Bryon: doubt which part?

 me: Isn’t it like an hour away?

 Bryon: yeah.

 me: I doubt I will want to drive another hour after driving 8

5:07 PM Bryon: I would be interested in going again, I would go, and drive.

 me: But’s it’s lame…. 🙂

 Bryon: yeah but there is a great brewery in cooperstown

 me: so the truth comes out…

5:08 PM Bryon: lol

 me: when would I have to be out there if I were to do that?

5:09 PM Bryon: whenever, Cooperstown is an hour from albany, I have a meeting until 1, so whenever you would like.

5:11 PM me: Mapquest says it takes 7 hours and 23 minutes to get from Surry, ME to Albany, NY

  When does the baseball hall of fame close?


16 minutes

5:28 PM Bryon: sorry i was away there

  

  the hall closes at 9

5:29 PM me: I figured that out. Went to the website.

  I am used to Maine, where things close at 5

  🙂

 Bryon: that is why NY is better

5:30 PM me: If you say so…

5:31 PM Alright, I will plan to be out there around 2 or 3. That way I don’t have to get up at an ungodly early hour

5:32 PM Bryon: sounds good

​This is the conversation that led to our first date, brought to you by gchat.  What can I say? We are representative of the social media age.

I always teased him about this conversation, about how the Baseball Hall of Fame was lame until I said I wanted to go.  Bryon never tried to hide the fact that it was me he wanted to see.

 *  *  *

August 1, 2008
Cooperstown, NY
Albany, NY

Nine years ago today I went on my last first date.  I was a Maine girl in New York and her “friend” took her the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY.  At first there was a work scheduling conflict but it ended up working out.

After going to the Baseball Hall of Fame, we weren’t ready for the date to end. So we had dinner at The Pump Station.  The after dinner, we weren’t ready for the date to be over so went to Mahars.  Then Lark Tavern.

August 2, 2008
Saratoga Springs, NY

Bryon and I were at the New York State Young Republicans Day at the Races.  We spent the day avoiding each other because we didn’t want anyone to know that something was going on between us.  But we snuck away to the paddock for some time alone together.

 *  *  *

August 3, 2008
Albany, NY

I say good-bye to Bryon.  I was sure this was going to be a fling.  None of this made sense.  He was seven years younger than me and lived three states away.  I mean, he just graduated from college and I was almost 30.

But love had other plans.  And we never looked back.

 

Somedays I really hate my life

Some days I really hate my life.

I know I am supposed to be grateful and all that stuff.  And I am.  

Sometimes I feel like I am faking it because it takes effort to be grateful.

No matter how grateful I am, it doesn’t erase what happened.  

It doesn’t fill the void of Bryon’s absence.

Some days I really hate my life.

I hate that I am inching closer to 40 and I am a single mother.  This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

I hate seeing children with their fathers and knowing that my daughter doesn’t get hers.

I hate that I had to wait until I was 30 to find my soul mate and he still got ripped away from me while still in my 30’s.    

I hate the loneliness that comes with grief.  The truth is that I am not alone.  I have amazing friends that I am grateful for but they all have their significant others to comfort them in their grief over Bryon.  I don’t have Bryon to comfort me.  Because he is dead.

I hate the lost dreams.  The plans we had that will never happen.  I hate that I have to figure out what to do with the rest of my life without him.

Some days I really hate my life and today is one of those days.

Kind of grateful

I was happily married and thought I was with the man I would grow old with.

But life had other plans.

Life doesn’t care.

Life can be cruel.

Life doesn’t care who you are, where you have been or where you are going.

Life can rip your heart out.

Life can chew you up and spit you out.

Life can destroy the very foundation of everything you had and leave you to pick up the debris.

One of my worst nightmares came true.

Life made me a young widow.

What I would give to get my old life back.

My old life was innocent and selfish.  Innocent because I had the luxury of worrying about things that didn’t matter.  I didn’t know what true trauma was.  Selfish because I didn’t know how good I had it, nor did I take the time to appreciate what I had.

Bryon’s illness and death has changed me.  The whole experience has been hell, but I would do it all over again, even if it meant the same result.

I am grateful for the time I did have with Bryon.  I got to experience true love.

To have someone look at you like you are the only one in the room.

Where you can communicate with each other through your eyes from across a room.

To be so in sync with someone that you can finish their sentences.

Someone who would always hug you or hold your hand.

Someone who always rushes home after whatever work thing he/she had just to see you.

The list goes on.  Bryon wasn’t just my husband.  He was the love of my life and my best friend.  My partner in crime and my other half.  I always called him my “one and only” and my soul mate.  It makes my heart hurt to think that he probably won’t be my “one and only.”

But I know I am lucky.  Some people go through their whole lives without ever experiencing love.  But I did, because of Bryon.

I am grateful for all that Bryon gave me.  The love, the memories, the vacations, the laughter, the conversations.  For the fact that he worked so hard to provide for me and our daughter.  For the beautiful wedding and an amazing daughter.  For his faith in me.

He opened up a whole world for me.  I learned so much from him.

I am thankful that because of him, I feel whole as a person even by myself.  And because of him, I know that when the time comes for me to write the second chapter of my life’s great love story, I will not settle.

I was lucky to be your leading lady, Bryon McKim.

10 Things I Miss About You

This poem is inspired by a poem in one of Bryon’s favorite movies.

I miss that you didn’t take life too seriously,
that you just didn’t care.

I miss arguing with you about stupid stuff,
like the length of your hair,

I miss being annoyed by all the sports on TV,

I miss our conversations,
even the ones about poop and pee,

I miss that you planned our vacations,
though you always gave me a say,

I miss that you kept me safe,
and always assured me that everything would be okay,

I miss that you would always make me laugh,
whenever I was mad,

I miss that our daughter will never know her Dad,

I miss that you would always steal my pillow,

I miss that you are not here and I am all alone.
I wish you were here,
so I didn’t have to be a fucking widow.