Our cake had four tiers, each with a different flavor. The cake was decorated with a Celtic cross, red roses and with the tartan ribbon from Bryon’s Scottish clan. There were weddings pictures of our parents and Bryon’s grandparents. No wedding pictures of my grandparents exist so there were pictures from my grandparents younger days.
There was no cake smashing as neither of us were fond of that tradition. The song that was playing during our cake cutting was “You’re my Best Friend” by Queen. There was so much excitement going on that day that I don’t remember what the cake tasted like but that was okay, we would freeze our top tier. Of course, one year later we would discover that that cake would absorb the flavor of everything in our freezer and not taste as it was on our wedding night.
I was driving back from Starbucks yesterday morning (a habit I am trying to break though I am not sure I really want to) when Queen’s “You’re my Best Friend” came on the radio. (Warning, you might think I am nuts after you read the next sentence.) They say the dead communicate to you through electronics and I am convinced Bryon is doing that. He communicates with my daughter’s Godmother by putting Top Gun on her tv and he communicates with me through songs, usually in the form of Hall and Oates. I have heard Hall and Oates more in the past couple of months than I have heard in my whole life prior. He was partial to this 2008 Saturday Night Live skit of “Hall and Oates”.
Usually hearing a song that triggers a memory like that makes me cry but I actually handled it alright. I was actually excited that Bryon was communicating and I turned up the song and listened. Surprisingly I didn’t cry. I was actually kind of happy and lighthearted. I was okay until I read my friend widow blogger friend Emily’s post. Emily’s post really reasonated with me and after I read it, I cried. I know, I cried. Big surprise, right?
Emily’s post got me thinking about the wedding vow “till death do us part” but Bryon and I did not make that vow. Our weddings vows at our Catholic Nuptial Mass stated that “I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.” I remember having a conversation with Bryon about the significance of that vow. He did not express any preference between “till death do us part” and “I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.” As far as he was concerned, they had the same meaning.
I remember saying to him that I preferred “I will love you and honor you, all the days of my life” because one of us was going to die before the other and when one of us died, our love wasn’t going to stop. Bryon didn’t really want to talk about it. He was never one to talk about death and what happens after. He came from a family where talking about death was taboo while my Boston Irish-Catholic family talked about death almost casually, like one would talk about the weather or the Red Sox.
My love for Bryon didn’t die on the August morning in New York City when he died. I will love Bryon until I take my last breathe because my love for him doesn’t die until I die. He is a part of me now and he will always have a part of my heart along with all the memories from our years together. My love for Bryon is intertwined with the love I have for our daughter and our friends. Even if I remarry, I will continue to love Bryon. And that’s okay because the heart has an amazing ability to grow and to make room to accommodate all the love a person has to give.
Bryon’s love lives on in me. I am who I am today because of Bryon’s love. And I like to think that his love has made me a better person. Bryon taught me so much in our short time together and I will never be the same.
And I will honor Bryon for all the days of my life. I try to honor Bryon in many different ways. I honor him by trying to be a good mother to our daughter. I honor him by spending time with our friends even if it goes against my introvert tendencies. I honor him by trying not to take my life too seriously. I honor him by trying to do things that are out of my comfort zone. I honor him by letting more inappropriate comments come out of my mouth. I honor him by travelling with our daughter. And some days, honoring Bryon might not be noble and it might be as simple as getting out of bed and existing that day.
“For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin — real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.
This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way.
So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one. Happiness is a journey, not a destination.”
~ Alfred D’Souza
I have always been a person who has always been waiting.
When I was a child, I was waiting for high school because from what I observed by watching Saved by the Bell and Beverly Hills 90210, high school was real life. Because after sporting events and lame school dances, it was all downhill.
When I was in high school, I was waiting until I could go off to college because college was real life. I would be out of my small Maine town and I would study abroad in Europe. I could immerse myself in the subjects I cared about such as History and French.
When I was in college, I was waiting for graduation because that was when my career was going to happen and possibly I will would meet my future husband. I was going to earn some real money. And life was going to begin.
When I was finally out of college, I was waiting for my career to take off and to meet that husband I dreamed about meeting. But none of those things came with a college degree so I kept waiting.
Once I was in a relationship with Bryon, I was waiting to get engaged because then I would be planning our wedding and my life would begin.
When Bryon and I were engaged, I was waiting to be married and when I was a wife, then life would begin. We could put the stress of wedding planning behind us and we can focus on our happily ever after.
Once I was Bryon’s wife, I was waiting to buy a house and become a mother. We would become a family and raise our baby in our little house.
Once I became a mother, I was waiting to have our second child so we could be the perfect family with two kids. Bryon had been working hard on a career as was I and we would buy a bigger house. Then life would begin. We would raise our two perfect children, maybe three and take them to whatever sports or lessons they had. We would get a family dog. We would go on family vacations. Bryon had plans to become 1950’s dad and make our daughters dates uncomfortable. Then the kids would go of to college to wait for their lives to begin and Bryon and I would grow old together.
Only life as I envisioned it would never begin. I never once thought “once I become a young widow, then my life would begin.” But my life is happening and for once, I am not waiting for anything. I know I have a long life ahead of me but for the first time in my life, I am not eagerly anticipating the next phase of my life. I don’t even know what I should be waiting for. I don’t even know what my next phase of my life is. I know I will see my daughter grow up but Bryon won’t be there. I hope to be in a position to help people but I am not sure how I will get from here to there.
During my grief process, I have felt like there is a lot of waiting. I am waiting for the pain to subside. I am waiting for things to get settled. I am waiting until I can think about everything that happened and not feel like I am being punched in the stomach. I am waiting until I can talk about what happened without having my voice shake and tears welling up in my eyes.
I don’t know what to wait for. My life has so many paths it could take. I am not looking forward to the prospect of someday dating again. But if I did, my life would follow a certain path, a path I am not ready to consider at the moment. For the time being, I am actually looking forward to my time alone to figure out exactly who I am. But since I don’t know who I am right now, I don’t know how to envision a future alone. There are many facets of my personality I wish to explore and depending on which ones I develop could affect my path.
I spent 37 years waiting for my life to begin. But I have been living my life this whole time and not living in the moment. I spent my years with Bryon looking towards the future and that future never materialized. I spent so much time waiting and not enjoying the life I was living and that life is gone. I can’t go back and focus on those moments in the present. I only have memories. Memories, a future I am not waiting for and the present. It’s a shame it took my husband’s death to teach me how to live in the present.
I started this blog as an outlet for my feelings and I have decided that I have been writing about too much depressing stuff lately. My life isn’t all depressing so I decided to share some of my fun moments. I mean, my life won’t always be this depressing, right? My daughter and I had a busy weekend so I thought I would share that.
On Friday evening I had plans to meet some good friends for Mexican food at El Loco. I had gotten a baby sitter for my daughter and I braved the drive to downtown Albany and even found a parking spot. It was great to catch up with my friends.
I was supposed to run the Fly Creek Cider Run 10k this weekend but I dropped a metal trashcan on my toe on Easter. That doesn’t sound like a big deal but my big toenail is blue and I had to wear flip flops all week because it hurt too much to wear regular shoes. By Friday I could wearing shoes was bearable but I decided that it wasn’t the best idea to run the 10k or 5k. I was disappointed because I really was looking forward to this race. I was signed up to run it last year but missed it due to Bryon’s illness. Maybe the third time will be the charm.
There was a rugby tournament at Albany Law School so my daughter and I went for a little bit. My daughter wasn’t that interested but we did walk around the track and even did a little running.
Saturday afternoon was the birthday party of the son of Bryon’s best friend. He is turning 3. They did an amazing job with the Mickey and the Roadster Racers theme. There was also a bounce house and wagon rides.
Reminders that life continues on. It feels good that that we are making happy memories that my daughter and my friends children will grow up with. But, like everything else, it is bittersweet because Bryon isn’t here for those memories.
Sunday was the monthly brunch with my girls. This is turning into my most favorite day of the month. We alternate houses and we each bring something. We had an amazing brunch with Blueberry and Strawberry French Toast Casserole, Goat Cheese and Sundried Tomato Quiche, Vanilla Bread, Sausage, Fruit, cookies, Mimosas and great conversation.
I couldn’t have asked for a better weekend or better company.
I belong to a few widow(er) facebook groups and it comes up periodically that the “On This Day” feature on facebook is a minefield full of triggers. The triggers aren’t just reminders of illness and death. The triggers are also the happy memories because you are reminded of the life that you are missing.
Some days I didn’t talk much throughout my history on facebook. But some days are chock full of memories.
On this day in 2009, I was attending the Midcoast Maine Young Republican Meeting.
On this day in 2010, I was having a bad day at work and wanted to go home and drink. Considering I was working in the ER, that sounds about right.
On this day in 2011, I was out of work for the weekend and I had a hot date. Of course someone commented and asked what Bryon was doing that night.
On this day in 2012, I was at a Bruce Springsteen Concert at the Times Union Center with Bryon. I also was pissed that the Red Sox blew a 9-0 lead and I wanted Terry Francona back.
On this day in 2013, I hated Windows 8. I still do.
On this day in 2014, I was wishing all Boston Marathon Runners Good Luck.
I apparently wasn’t doing anything on this day in 2015.
On this day in 2016, I had my first glimmer of hope. I remember writing that facebook status and feeling relieved. We were finally on the road to recovery. I remember being told that he would probably be in the ICU for another month or so and then he would go to rehab for a couple months.
But we now know that that road would never lead Bryon to recovery. It’s like I can feel all the emotions I felt waiting for that road to recovery at the same time; the frustration, the anger, the sadness, the hopefulness, the desperation. However, it is also mixed with the grief and emptiness I feel every day from Bryon’s death.
Those memories are always going to be there whether they are on Facebook or in my memory. I can’t un-live it. I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. And I don’t want to forget my memories with Bryon. We had too many good times. I can only hope that as time passes, I can think about these memories without crying and being overcome with sadness. I want to be able to look back and smile.
I must move forward and try to fill my future with happier memories with my daughter and my family and friends.
We spent last Easter together in the ICU. You were not able to communicate but I sat with you. Our daughter spent the day with my parents. Your best friend and his wife came. They brought me a plate of food.
This year I have to go to the cemetery to see you.
Easter should have been different. You should have been here.
You should have been with us on Thursday during our daughter’s Easter egg hunt party at school. Since your best friends son attends the same school, you should have been there cracking jokes with your best friend.
You probably would have tried to get her to see the Easter bunny but let me tell you, her fear is real.
You should have been here Friday night when we dyed eggs with our friend and her son. You should have been the one wincing when our daughter dropped a cup of green dye on the dining room floor.
You should have been at the Easter egg hunt yesterday at your best friends house.
You should have been there to see our daughter play with her Easter basket this morning. Don’t worry, your princess got a basket fit for a princess.
If you were here, we would have gone to church where we would have done all that rejoicing and being glad. Our daughter probably would have worn a proper Easter dress instead of her Elsa dress with rain boots. This year Elsa and I opted out.
If you were here, you would have cooked dinner. You didn’t care for ham so it would have been some version of beef. We would have used our wedding china. This year I made ham and used the everyday dishes because I couldn’t bear to look at our wedding china and think about all the holiday meals we would not be having together.
If you were here, you would have eaten peeps and I would have told you that they were disgusting.
But you are not here and if I want to see you, I need to go to the cemetery. Easter went on without you but your absence was replaced with pain. A pain as large as your personality. Since you went into the hospital on Easter weekend, I get to be reminded of that weekend on the date and on the holiday. But all I know is that going forward, I get to think about what should have been.
I always thought I had a strong sense of who I was. And I never questioned my own authenticity. Yes, on the outside I am from a small Maine town but many people don’t realize that I spent the first 14 years of my life in the Boston area. I spent a semester abroad in England when I was 21. Besides Boston, I have spent time in London, Paris, Chicago, New York, Washington, D.C., Miami, Houston, New Orleans, Vegas and many other cities. I am fairly educated and worldly. I just try not to be pretentious about it.
I have always been a rule follower whether it was my Catholic religion or sitting in school. I was not a kid who got in (much) trouble. I did get caught daydreaming a lot but there was a whole world outside whatever window I was looking out of. I can’t say I never broke the rules in high school but I pretty much did as I was told. I did not drink in high school or go to gravel pit parties. I rarely stayed out past curfew (though my parents were pretty lenient as long as I called) though sometimes I stayed the night at my best friends house because she did not have a curfew. This created a kind of late night loophole that I would take advantage of. (Sorry Mom and Dad!)
I stretched my wings a little bit when I was in college. A few weeks into my freshman year I decided to get an eyebrow ring. It was 1997 and it was before they became popular. It actually looked good on me though I don’t think any picture exists. I didn’t think it through because I was heading home the following week and figured I would just take it out when I was around my parents. My parents never saw it (though my brother saw it and he kept threatening to tell them). I realized that I was never going to have the guts to wear it in front of my parents and I couldn’t handle the pressure of living a double life so the eyebrow ring didn’t last.
And of course, there was the road trip my friends and I took to St. Stephen, New Brunswick just so we could go to the bars when we were 19. I remember walking along the Saint Croix River, pointing to the Maine side and laughing because we “couldn’t drink over there but we can drink over here.” I always think of that trip every time I hear “One Week” by the Barenaked Ladies. I wasn’t a saint but I kept myself out of trouble.
I was a very hyper and annoying kid and somewhere along the way, I figured that I had to bottle up my true self to fit in with people. I would just sit quietly because I didn’t want to become hyper and weird and annoying. I chose to only open up to a few. I liked to participate in structured activities so I only had to discuss the topics on hand.
After college, I started dating the guy who would later become my ex-boyfriend. I think of him as kind of an anti-Bryon because he was the exact opposite of Bryon. One could argue that Bryon was the over correction of this guy. I could probably write a whole post on him and what I learned from that relationship. In very general terms Bryon was a Catholic, Republican, manly-man who loved sports while the anti-Bryon was a Protestant, Democrat, non-manly man who preferred science fiction to sports. Another big difference was that Bryon actually liked me while the anti-Bryon did not. I think I was someone who paid for dates for two and a half years. He never embraced me for who I was and I spent two and a half years trying to be the woman he wanted.
After I broke up with the anti-Bryon, I got absorbed into the world of politics and most notably, the Young Republicans. I embraced the lifestyle of Republican politics and I wore suits, heels, pearls and the Sarah Palin hairstyle. I loved politics because it was like I was an actress playing a role. I didn’t have to worry that I was shy and awkward. Politics gave me a way to relate to people. It was also during my time in politics that I learned conversation skills and poise.
Politics led me to the best years of my life. My years with Bryon. The years where I became a wife and mother. And like everything else, being a wife and mother provided me with a role that I was more than happy to assume. Bryon did love me for me but relationships are always filled with give and take. Bryon had the successful career and I pretty much was content to live in his shadow. It might have caused some contention between us at times but I don’t regret it. Especially since he apparently wasn’t meant to be here as long as the rest of us.
I have heard that during widowhood, you begin to question everything you once believed. I thought I had myself and the world all figured out. While I learned that I am much, much stronger than I ever gave myself credit for, I also learned just how much Bryon overcompensated for my weaknesses. I don’t have him to cover for me anymore. I have learned that I can count on my family and I have also learned which of my friends are actually my family. I have learned who I can’t count on (some were surprising) and which friends really weren’t friends. I learned that you can’t put all your faith into the healthcare system and that the healthcare system can fail you. And I learned that God doesn’t care if you did your best to be a good Catholic girl for over 30 years.
All those years of trying to fit into roles and groups has left me with a repressed free spirit. I have always had a free spirit that gets antsy and wants to see the world. It used to drive Bryon nuts when I wanted to day trip to anywhere, as long as it was out of Albany. He usually indulged me. I also have a creative side. I am still in the process of trying to let those parts of me out. I have been running. I have been travelling. I have been cooking new recipes and putting together furniture from IKEA. I have been reading about Buddhism to try to stay Zen. I have been in the process of changing over to natural cleaning and beauty products. I plan to have a garden this summer and learn how to can vegetables. I tried to dye my hair blonde but that didn’t work. And don’t be fooled if you ever see all the books on my nightstand. You might see titles that consist of history, religion, politics, business, memoirs, parenting and grief/self help but the last two books I read consisted of one by the Long Island Medium and the other was Jodie Sweetin’s memoir. Candace Cameron Bure’s memoir isn’t proving to be nearly as exciting as Jodie Sweetin’s memoir.
I realize that I was just afraid. I have been afraid of success and I have been afraid of failure. I have been afraid to let people see the real me. I had a clearly defined past and I have been afraid to stray from the expectation of who I am supposed to be. I have been afraid that if I tried something different or learned about something different that it might change how I think. And if I continue to be afraid, I will never fully live and I must fully live to be an example for my daughter. So my daughter can grow into the woman she is supposed to be.
A few weeks ago I went to brunch with a few friends. The food was delicious and we had a great time. There was lots of laughter and stories and a few mimosas. Both of them were talking about their dating adventures (or misadventures) which I enjoyed hearing about them.
But on the ride home I became really sad. I had one grandmother who lived to be 90 and my other grandmother is 95. I genetically have the potential to be stuck on this planet for another 60ish years and that is a long time to be alone. But I got sad thinking that someday I might have to date again. I started crying and the tears kept coming. I did not ask for this. I was happily married. I don’t want to be alone for 60 more years but I also don’t want to date. Why does life have to be so cruel? Why did my happily ever after have to get ripped away from me when so many other people get to be happy? Why does everyone else get to be happy and not me?
So I get home. I post a sad status on my Facebook because I feel the need to vent and some brave people comment and try to make me feel better and while I appreciate their intent, it never makes me feel better. Maybe I just need to stop sharing my feelings on Facebook. I blast my sad songs list on Spotify (doesn’t everyone have one of those?) and eat some ice cream. I blast Tears in Heaven and listen to it on repeat. Then I do what I do when I am feeling incredibly sad. I put on Sleepless in Seattle which lives on my DVR because I needed to hear Tom Hanks say “Move on. Fine. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll just grow a new heart…I know. But it just doesn’t happen twice.” Tears in Heaven, ice cream and Sleepless in Seattle, are like, my trifecta of grief.
One of my best friends must have seen that status because she messages me asking if I am okay. She is one of the few friends that I don’t feel like I have to answer with “I’m okay. Everything is okay.” I told her I was sad and I was listening to sad songs and eating ice cream. I did not tell her I was watching Sleepless in Seattle because I was nervous that she would have gotten into her car, drive over and delete Sleepless in Seattle off of my DVR and I can’t live without that coping mechanism.
Things have changed in the past month or two. I am starting to come out of the widow fog but the grief certainly has not subsided. I am still incredibly sad. I am still trying to make sense of Bryon’s death. Some days I begin to think that I am used to Bryon being gone while other days I still sit in shock and disbelief that he is actually gone.
When Bryon first died, I tried to come up with a timeline for grief. I have always been a goal oriented person so it made sense that I would set goals for the grief process. But it hasn’t worked that way. The months have just been bouncing by and I have been unable to attain any of these goals. I am still wearing my rings. A lot of our bills are still in Bryon’s name, his stuff is still taking up space in our house and I still haven’t shut off his phone. My friend asked me if the fact that we talk about Bryon so much is holding me back and I said no because most of my thoughts are still consumed by him and his death. I am afraid to stop talking about him because then he really will die. Yes he is physically dead but his story remind me that he actually did live and I am not ready to let go of that yet.
Have I been moving forward? I don’t think so. I think I have been surviving and keeping myself busy by traveling and doing activities with my daughter but I don’t really think I am moving forward. I am distracting myself. I am waiting for time and grief to pass before I start living again. I spend time with my friends and my daughter and I work, usually until the early hours of the morning as I put off bedtime every night because lying in an empty bed is just too painful. I need to stop searching for happiness because I am just not going to find it. I am just getting used to being sad and I need to embrace that because that is my life right now. This is my normal and since I can’t set my own timeline for healing, I need to embrace that I am going to feel sad until the indeterminate time comes when I no longer feel sad.
So for the time being, I will continue to feel sad. I will continue to cry when I think about what I have lost. I will still continue to distract myself. I will continue to go on adventures with my daughter. I will still continue to spend time with those I am close to. I will continue to try to check items off of my widow “to-do” list. I will continue to try to find myself as an individual. I will continue to do all of these things until eventually my grief subsides and all of this just becomes part of me and my story.
Last weekend I took my daughter on our second big adventure since Bryon passed away. My best friend from Maine, who had been living in Florida with her fiance, just relocated to Ann Arbor, Michigan. I looked at google maps and saw that it was about a nine hour drive. I ascertained that it would be long, but it was doable. The drive to my parents house in Maine is usually about 8 hours so this would only be a little longer. I decided to make this into a “runcation” (which I will write about in another race recap post.) To make an exciting weekend even better, my other best friend from Chicago decided to drive up with her daughter. In case you forgot, she was the one who consoled me as I sat on the floor in a Las Vegas casino crying a month ago.
I couldn’t seem to get my act together all week so I was packing on Friday morning and got a later start than I had wanted. I kept feeling like I was forgetting something. I had to remind myself that there were Targets in Michigan and if I forgot anything, I could just get it at Target, along with other stuff I don’t really need but I will decide I can’t live without. We finally got on the road around 9 am.
Our trip was pretty uneventful, though we ran into some snow but it was sunny by the time we were in Western, NY. Before we knew it, we were at Niagara Falls. My gas tank was just below a half of a tank but I stopped to fill my tank before entering Canada. Anyone who travels to Canada knows, gas is very expensive and it is wise to fill up on the United States side of the Border.
I was nervous crossing the border without Bryon because I had read on the internet that Canada was careful about children crossing the border without both parents. If you are a single parent traveling with a minor, you need a notarized letter from the other parents stating it’s okay. Well, Bryon wasn’t here to notarize any sort of letter. So I brought my daughters birth certificate along with a copy of Bryon’s death certificate. (We also have NEXUS cards) I was chatting with the Canadian Border agent who was very nice and she said it really was a concern when parents don’t bring any ID and it was clear I was my daughter’s mother. She did look at our NEXUS cards and my daughter’s birth certificate. The border agent said she didn’t need to look at Bryon’s death certificate but told me that it was a good idea to have it on me just in case.
My daughter finally fell asleep in Canada. The drive was long and uneventful with lots of farmland. Bryon and I had never traveled further than the Niagara region so Southern Ontario was all new territory. I found myself wishing he was on the trip with us. For starters, he would have been doing the driving. Second, we drove by so many places that would have excited him, like the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame. I imagine the conversation would have gone something like this:
Bryon: Let’s stop! It’s the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame!
Kerry: You don’t even like going to the American Baseball Hall of Fame. You think it’s lame.
Bryon: But Kerry…It’s the CANADIAN Baseball Hall of Fame.
Kerry: But…you aren’t that into baseball and a visit will take up a lot of time and we want to get to Michigan before it get’s dark.
Bryon: You are a Miss No-Fun.
I also thought fondly of Bryon as I drove by London, Ontario and saw the sign for the Labatt Brewery. He loved Labatt.
I was bored with the radio in the car and ended up listening to the CBC news. I decided that would be my cultural activity of the day since I would not be stopping at Tim Hortons, or the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame or the Labatt Brewery. I drove by a really large wind farm that went on for 45 minutes. Then I was finally in Windsor, Ontario and then I was crossing the Ambassador Bridge into Detroit. The Bridge was beautiful and I couldn’t take a picture because I was driving. There was a very large American flag. I don’t know if it is because I am generally a patriotic person or if it was because I was glad that my long drive was almost over but I started to belt out “America the Beautiful” when I saw that flag. My daughter was not impressed. I can’t blame her as I am not exactly a good singer. Actually my singing is not even tolerable. Poor girl.
We made it to Ann Arbor around 7:15 after google maps took us on an interesting drive in Detroit. I was so excited to see both of my best friends. Since I don’t use people’s names in this blog, I am going to refer to my friends as “my Maine best friend” and “my Chicago best friend”. And I will refer to my Maine best friend’s fiance as “the Scientist” because, well, he’s a scientist. We sat down and ate some Domino’s Pizza (which I learned is headquartered in Ann Arbor) and drank some Aldi wine (not too bad). My daughter was excited to see my Chicago best friends daughter and they wore princess dresses and chased each other until it was time for bed.
Good Night, MichiganAll tuckered out
I woke up early Saturday morning to make my run to Target to buy the items I forgot, along with those other items that I didn’t really need but decided I can’t live without. My Chicago best friend came with me and we decided to do the “divide and conquer” approach and I think we were out of there within 20 minutes. It was quite impressive.
After we returned to the house, we packed up to take the bus downtown. My daughter really enjoyed riding on the bus.
Who knew the bus could be so much fun?
The plan was to take the girls to the Natural History Museum at the University of Michigan. They had a great time running around and looking at the artifacts but they began to get tired and hungry. We had made it through the first two floors and the Scientist went up to check the third floor and said there wasn’t as much there so we decided to leave.
Natural History Museum at University of MichiganNatural History Museum at University of MichiganNatural History Museum at University of MichiganNatural History Museum at University of MichiganNatural History Museum at University of MichiganNatural History Museum at University of Michigan
I wanted to do some shopping so we stopped at The Den to buy my daughter and myself an article of clothing that said “Michigan” on it.
We then had lunch at Hopcat which was delicious and very reasonably priced. I had the tacos which were delicious. And I don’t know what the seasoning was on the crack fries, but they were amazing. My daughter learned the hard way that the hot sauce was not ketchup. There were some tears but I still think she handled better than some adults would have. The hot sauce was really hot.
Hopcat- Ann Arbor
Hopcat- Ann ArborThe attitude ❤
When we returned, I put my daughter down for a nap and my Chicago best friend stayed with the girls while my Maine best friend and I went to the race Expo which I will write about in another post. After we went to the Expo, we needed coffee so we went to a Meijer that also had a Starbucks. In 2007, I lived in Indiana for three months and I forgot how awesome Meijer was. It’s like, one of the seven wonders of the Midwest. Anyway we were in desperate need of caffeine and I also had to get the Starbucks You Are Here mugs. It’s my latest obsession. Anyone else into those mugs?
I was here.
After the girls woke up from their nap, we made plans to go to a Mexican restaurant, Los Amigos. The food was really good and I am a Mexican food snob. I was excited to see Chilaquiles on the menu because I think the only place I can get them locally is at El Mexicano in Saratoga. I was excited that they had a train. It was like Governor’s except it was a Mexican restaurant and we were in Michigan, not Maine.
Los Amigos- Ann ArborMy Maine Best Friends Sampler. I think it took her three days to eat all of it.Chilaquiles- Los Amigos, Ann Arbor
We were all exhausted Saturday night and didn’t stay up late.
Sunday was race morning which, again, I will write a separate race recap.
After the race, my Chicago best friend and her daughter left. My Maine best friend, my daughter and I drove 45 minutes to Dearborn to go to The Henry Ford. It was pricey but I felt like it was something you need to do in area. We were starving so we had lunch at a diner in the Museum. It was an actual diner car from 1946. Jut don’t expect to get a diet soda because when my Maine best friend tried to order one, the waiter informed her that there was no diet soda in 1946. However, the prices were not reflective of 1946 and they did accept credit cards.
The Henry FordThe Henry FordThe Henry Ford
My daughter took a cat nap on the car ride and was tired and was beginning to lose it after the cars, trains and planes so we decided to call it a trip. I didn’t feel too bad because my Maine best friend decided to buy the membership because she figured out that a membership would pay for itself in two trips. She also figured that this would be the place that out of town guests would want to go so a membership made sense.
The Henry FordThe Henry FordIt’s a Maine thingThe Henry Ford
We had a relaxing Sunday night. We ordered Chinese food for dinner and just hung out and went to bed early.
My daughter and I were on the road by 7am. We had a morning stop planned in Windsor, Ontario. When Bryon and I got engaged, I went on theknot.com and was active in the September 2012 board. Theknot.com was glitchy so we moved our group over the Facebook and we are still an active group. There have been so many milestones, babies, new jobs, new houses as well as divorces, illness and now death. I am the first widow of the group (though one of the ladies of the group was a widow who married her second love in Sept 2012) Anyway, one of the ladies on the board lives just out of Windsor (she blogs here) so my daughter and I met her at a Tim Hortons. I have known her online for over 5 years and it was exciting to finally meet her in person.
Friends and Tim Hortons in Windsor, Ontario
After our visit, we had a long car ride back. My daughter slept for about half of the Canada portion and none of the New York portion. We stopped for lunch at a rest stop just outside of Buffalo. The drive was long and uneventful and we made it home around 6 o’clock.
This adventure was still bittersweet. I didn’t miss Bryon as much as I did when I went to Vegas. Maybe that was because Vegas was the first adventure since Bryon passed. Maybe it was because both of my best friends were there which provided twice the distraction. But even though travelling without Bryon may have been easier, I still got sad when we passed the University of Michigan stadium because Bryon was such a sports fan and I knew he would have been excited. I guess I just have to have faith that he comes along with us in his way but I just wish he was physically still here to go on these adventures with us. I miss him so much but I must carry on for him, for my daughter and for myself. But it does make me feel good that I am still fulfilling the promise I made to him in the final hours of his life.
Yesterday my blog reached a milestone. A milestone that I never would have dreamed of ever happening, let alone only after two and a half months. Yesterday my blog reached 10,000 page views. I never would have thought that my words about Bryon would go so far in such a short time.
So why do I do this? Anyone who knows me in “real life” would tell you that I tend to be a pretty private person who takes a long time to open up to people. I usually prefer to keep in interactions with people at the superficial level. Want to talk about the weather? Sure! Talk about emotions and feelings? No way! Before Bryon got sick, I kept all but a few people at an arm’s length.
So what has compelled me to share some of my most private feelings on the internet? If someone would have told me that I would be sharing some of my most personal thoughts for the whole world to see, I would have probably looked at them like they were nuts. But here I am. Sharing my personal thoughts in a place where anyone can see. I am not lying when I tell you that it is one of the scariest things I have ever done. I am most likely ruining my chances of ever getting a boyfriend (in the very distant future) because any potential suitors would likely find this blog during a google search and go running far away after reading this. And I can’t blame them. Run, Forrest, Run!
There are many reasons I pour my heart out on the internet.
I have barely begun to share most of Bryon’s story because it is still too painful for me to share. But I feel compelled to tell Bryon’s story in an effort to help other patients. I want to help people know how to advocate for themselves and I want to empower people to find the right knowledge so they can make educated medical decisions. I want to help people know what kind of questions to ask their doctors and what to do if something just doesn’t seem right with themselves or with the health care that they might be receiving. I want people to know why it is important to know their own health history and, if possible, that of their family members.
I feel compelled to share my story as a caregiver and an advocate because I want to help the family members and friends of the critically and terminally ill. I was thrown into a situation where one day my husband was recovering from a minimally invasive surgical procedure to fighting for his life in the ICU a few days later. I don’t think there is a word in the English language that could accurately describe how overwhelmed I felt during those weeks that my life came crashing down. I have a background in oncology data and oncology was one of the few medical specialties that did not play a role in Bryon’s care. While I had more medical knowledge than the average person, I am not a doctor or nurse and I had to quickly adapt to all the new medical terminology and procedures. Bryon also could not speak for himself while he was in the ICU and he depended on me to advocate for him. And unfortunately advocating for patients is not easy. As a caregiver, you need to be prepared to fight for your family member or friend.
I feel compelled to share my story because I want to help other widows and widowers. Widowhood is a very lonely place. It helps to read that we are not alone and that other people can relate. I appreciate reading blogs and memoirs of widows and widowers, especially those who are further in the healing process because I want some sort of idea of what to expect down the road. Since I benefited from the stories of others, I want to share my stories with the hope that it might help another widow and widower.
I want to share my story to help those who have gone through a trauma and/or have experienced the loss of someone important in their life. Grief is grief regardless of whether it was a spouse, a family member or a friend and we can all relate and support each other.
I write because it helps me process my own emotions. I was in the “widow fog” for several months after Bryon died and the fog didn’t start to subside until I started writing about my feelings and my experience. Before I started writing, I could bottle up my emotions and ignore them for a later time. This isn’t healthy. Writing forces me to acknowledge what I am feeling at any given time and it forces me to deal with my grief instead of ignoring it.
I write because I must preserve as much of our story for my daughter. She won’t have any first hand memories of Bryon and she will have to rely on the stories that are told to her. I can already start to feel that my memories are not as sharp. I feel a huge void that Bryon left but it’s getting harder to remember the little things. I am fearful that if I don’t write things down then those memories will die with Bryon.
I hope to become a patient advocate someday. I want to raise awareness for the issues that plagued Bryon and ultimately took his life. I want to empower the caregivers of critically and terminally ill patients. I share our story to meet others who have been in similar situations and have similar goals. I write with the hope that I can expand my network so that someday I am able to accomplish my goals of helping people.
I was at work. Bryon was at home, recovering from surgery.
It was mid afternoon and my co-workers and I were preparing for a late afternoon meeting.
My phone rings. It is Bryon. He is in a lot of pain and I have to leave immediately and take him to the emergency room.
I am not sure if I even shut down my computer. I remember saying that I needed to tell my boss. My co-workers told me not to worry about that and that they would relay the message.
I rush out of the office.
Life is made up of moments and little did I know that this was the moment where my life was about to change.
Running Forward...My Way 