Random Thoughts...

This page is a place for me to escape to, from time to time. Since Mike's death, I've shared my every thought over and over again to my very dear friends, who have been there since this tragedy, and have done more than their share in trying to help me cope. And for that I am very grateful. But most of them have been fortunate enough to have never suffered such a loss (and I pray they never do!) So I feel they've tired of hearing of it over and over again, and so I try not to bring it up much these days. Some say I'm obsessed with it -- maybe I am -- some say it's time to get over it and get on with my life -- maybe they're right, or maybe they just don't know how much it hurts to lose someone you love with everything you are -- mind, body and soul. And I can understand that. I was the same way before I lost Mike. When I heard of someone else's loss, I felt terrible, but easily got on with my life. Likewise, I expected them to as well. But now, I am different. I have walked in the shoes of the bereaved. It's easy not to be able to empathize with something you've never been through. And so...here is where I will write from time to time, when I just feel like "talking" about it. Some things I write are about the wonderful times we shared, and others are about how much I miss all that. Some things may not make sense, but that's why I've called them "random thoughts."

I also hope that by me sharing my "random thoughts" about whatever I'm feeling at that moment, that it will help others who have lost someone realize that grieving is a complicated process -- there are no rules, no time limits, no rational thinking, no right or wrong. Maybe you too have felt something I've felt, and in that, I hope you realize you're not alone.

June 26, 1998
September 13, 1998
March 27, 1999
March 28, 1999
July 1, 1999
January 16, 2000
March 10, 2000
July 23, 2000
September 2, 2001
September 5, 2001
April 15, 2004
New! May 25, 2005 New!

6/26/98
I think people who suffer a terrible loss, put up walls as a defense against pain. Since we loved our lost loved ones so much, and have been hurt so badly by losing them -- we're terrified of feeling that pain ever again, so we try not to love anyone else (or as much as we should) for that very reason. It seems a loss would pull us closer to the rest of our family, but it usually works the complete opposite. Afterall, loving someone with all our heart and soul is what made the loss hurt so much -- but that's life. I'd rather spend my entire life loving someone with everything in me, and then hurting when they leave -- rather than never loving them at all, in fear of being hurt. Now that would be regretful...
I know he's dead, but that doesn't change my heart and soul. I will love him till the day I die -- with everything in me, and it hurts so much that I can't have him here to love me back, at least not how I planned it...
[After not talking for 2 years]...I called him and we talked for hours that first time and it felt like we had never stopped talking -- I felt SO happy, like I was "home", if that makes any sense. Well we got together, and we spent practically the entire next 5 weeks together, non-stop -- we were inseparable. It was the GREATEST time of my life, I swear. We had so much fun together, even if it was just sitting around my apartment watching TV or taking his dog for walks in the park -- I was on Cloud 9 and couldn't have been happier. We went for rides on his motorcycle and it was awesome. We did things together that we had never done in the past -- it was like a total new beginning with us... But this time was so different. I remember us taking a nap once and "spooning" and I was snuggled up behind him with my arm around his side/stomach and I recall thinking to myself, "I can't believe I'm with Mike again... I can't believe he's here with me... this is a dream come true..." God, just writing that brought tears to my eyes. I wanted to pinch myself constantly, thinking that I was dreaming and soon to wake up. No, it was real! It was too uncanny that our paths crossed again, after all that time. God, I miss him...
The first day of September was the last time I talked to him, the day before he died. We talked for over 4 1/2 hours and had the BEST conversation. That was labor day weekend and he wanted me to come down so bad, he begged and begged but I said no. To this day, I still wonder what would have happened if I had gone down there -- would he still have died? I don't know...
His death was the WORST thing that has ever happened to me so far in life, it really is. I can't even explain how hurt I am... I feel empty inside. When I was with Mike, I felt like the REAL me came out -- he inspired me without words and always made me want to be the best I could be and do everything in life. He did so much without words -- just being around him was a dream. If you've ever seen the movie "Jerry Maguire" -- that one line from it totally describes how Mike made me feel: "you complete me." That's all there is to it -- Mike made me feel whole, alive, happy to be alive, etc. I can't even describe it. Since his death, I feel less than whole, incomplete, etc. -- something's missing, no doubt. I feel like an empty shell that just functions in life... do what needs to be done, but has no real enjoyment or pleasure out of life. I'm not me anymore. I used to be so different, and I don't like who I am right now. I'm angry all the time, and it shows. I never used to be that way -- I was always calm, serene, fun to be with, energetic, patient, etc. -- and now I'm the complete opposite. But more often than not these days, I feel like I'm going to have a complete nervous breakdown...
The past few days have been bad days, as far as Mike. I just miss him so much and get so damn upset that I can't change what's happened. I went to the cemetery Wednesday night and put some beautiful flowers there. I told him, "Mike, I miss you so much...please let me know you're out there, somehow..." Sometimes when I'm there, I wish I could crawl down in the ground and lay next to him and just die myself. I know that sounds awful, but my life just doesn't seem much worth living without him in it...
9/13/98
The 2nd anniversary of Mike's death recently came and went. I went to the cemetery twice and took flowers. Even after all this time, I just can't help but ask why? Mike was such a joy to everyone whose lives he touched. Sometimes it's hard for me to understand why such a wonderful person had to be taken from all of us. I should be happy that he's in a far better place than those of us left behind; maybe I'm being selfish when I wish he could still be here to make my world a better place. I should be thankful that at least in his all too short life, I was blessed that he passed through mine. I've never met anyone like him -- I don't think I will ever find someone like him again; he was one in a million. They say everything happens for a reason, but I don't think I'll ever understand the reason... not until the day I take my last breath. And the biggest thing that keeps me going, is the thought that he will be there waiting for me, with arms outstretched, when my time here on earth is over...

3/27/99
Last night I had the most incredible dream... I saw Mike again. I had dreams a lot after he died, but they seemed to occur less often as time went on. My dreams of him are usually the same - we're doing something that we've never done before (or just doing nothing at all but enjoying each other's company), in unfamiliar places we've never been to, and it's usually nothing out of the ordinary - just everyday things. Of course, just being with Mike was a dream in itself...

His eyes, they never shined so bright, they always melted me, those beautiful dark green eyes of his... and his smile, with those perfect teeth, so radiant, he was smiling at me and I went weak in the knees, as always... his lips, so perfect and soft, as he gently placed them upon mine... his touch, that gentle touch upon me, was like the brush of an angel's wing... those arms, always reaching out for me, pulling me closer, there was no better place to be, than inside those arms... the smell of him, so comforting and soothing, still lingers to this day... that voice, that laugh, I can hear it as clear as day... but always, when he reached out for me, it was all I ever needed... as was he...

3/28/99
This week, I don't know why, but Mike's been on my mind so much. This week has no particular significance... I guess I just miss him. Since it's getting nice out and spring is finally here, everyone's out on their bikes, just as Mike always was. I see these guys on their crotchrockets and I always do double-takes, just for a second, thinking it's him. Wishing, hoping, praying, feeling excited... I get all caught up in the memories of when we rode all over on his bike... but then I remember, it's not him. Immediately, my eyes fill with tears because I absolutely HATE that Mike's gone and there's not a damn thing I can do to change it. I hear these songs on the radio that just tear me up... songs that used to be ours, or songs about losing someone, and I just can't help but cry.

When does this pain end? I KNOW he's still out there, and I know I'll see him again... but it's SO hard to live the rest of my life NOW without him HERE - where I can see him, hear him, touch him - LIKE IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE! I just want my Mike back. Damn, why didn't I just go to Ohio when he asked me to? What the hell was I waiting for?

"But if you could hear the voice in my heart, it would tell you,
I'm afraid I'm alone / I'm tired of feeling this way
God, won't you please hold me, release me,
Show me the meaning of mercy, let me loose,
Let me fly, let me fly, let me fly..."
"Barcelona" by Jewel

7/01/99
It's taken me some time to try to come up with the right words to say what I have to say. Although I'm still having trouble finding the right words, I'm going to do my best, because this has to be said.

Some people have had trouble understanding my loss, and have gone as far as to say I'm obsessed with Mike. I will admit, perhaps the first year I truly was, in that I clung to any little thing that brought me comfort and made it feel like Mike was still here. But until you've lost someone, you will NEVER understand the grieving process. As I've said before, there are NO rules, rights or wrongs, time limits, etc. - everyone deals with it differently. When you lose someone to death, you do whatever you can to find comfort. The few people who say I'm obsessed can't understand some of the things I've done in dealing with losing Mike, but if you ask someone who HAS lost someone, they DO understand.

I created this web site originally because it helped ME deal with it; it was my little place to escape and express my feelings (as everyone who knows me knows, writing is very therapeutic for me), and it was my *tribute* of sorts to Mike's memory. Over time, I continued to add to this site, with the ultimate goal of helping others who were grieving. "As seasoned grievers reach out to the newly bereaved, energy that has been directed inward begins to flow outward and both are helped to heal." (taken from The Compassionate Friends) It was my way of returning the favor, for ALL the wonderful people who were there for me, who helped me find the light again, when I was a lost soul at the end of my rope, stuck in what felt like purgatory. Everyone who knows me knows that I'm always trying to help others, and as in vain as it may be, I'm always trying to "save the world." If ALL the time and effort I've put into this web site over the past few years makes a difference in just ONE person's life, if I help just ONE single person find that light again, then my job is done - I have accomplished what I set out to do. What's so wrong about that?

"To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
THIS IS TO HAVE SUCCEEDED"
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

My point - unless you've walked in my shoes and lost someone to death - how can you place judgment on what's *normal* in the very difficult process of grieving? Call me when YOU lose someone, and then we'll talk. Maybe then, you'll understand. Maybe.

1/16/00

"It is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life
that no man can sincerely try to help another
without helping himself."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

3/10/00
I was just updating our memorial page and as I looked at Mike's picture, I sat and thought to myself, "wow, he's been gone three and a half years." I still, to this very day, cannot believe it. After all this time, I still just DON'T believe it. I don't WANT to believe it. I can picture myself being old and grey, and still saying the same thing.

"When dreaming, I'm guided through another world, time and time again
At sunrise, I fight to stay asleep
'cause I don't want to leave the comfort of this place
'Cause there's a hunger, a longing to escape
from the life I live when I'm awake
So let's go there, let's make our escape
C'mon let's go there, let's ask can we stay?
Can you take me higher
to a place where blind men see?
Can you take me higher
to a place with golden streets?"
"Higher" by Creed

July 23, 2000
So many people write me and ask, "when will this pain go away?" Well, it never really gets "better" - it just gets easier to deal with. I will never forget Mike, even if I live to be 110. But that doesn't mean I can't go on to meet new people that bring me joy as he once did. I will probably never stop missing him and wishing him back, but I find comfort in knowing he will always be near me in spirit and we are closer than we've ever been before. That spot in my heart that was once filled with love for him is not empty; my love is still there, but that doesn't mean I won't or can't love again. There comes a point where you and your loved one have to let each other go, so that you can go on living your life here and they can go on to enjoy the beauty that lies on the other side, until you meet again. When that point comes, it's not sad, it's not the end, and it's not "good-bye". It's "so long, till we meet again."

September 2, 2001
Wow, I can't believe it's been over a year since I've written here. I guess I've really been busy. Five years ago today Mike died. I remember that day like it was yesterday; those words still haunt my head. I can't believe it's been five years. I was thinking the other day and said to my mom, "wow, Mike has been gone longer than Lindsey has been alive." (Mike died 4 months before my daughter was born.) There have been so many wonderful memories since Lindsey was born, yet it's hard to believe I've lived 5 years without a single new memory of Mike. Thank God she came into my life when she did, because I don't think I would've made it through -- she has been my light and reason for living the past 5 years.

September 5, 2001
Sometimes I get so freaked out about death. The other day I was reading an article in People magazine about the recent passing of Aaliyah. There was a last photo of her and her "crew" on a boat in the Bahamas on their way to the airport that ill-fated day they died. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, the water was crystal blue -- they all looked so happy, smiling, showing off for the camera -- little did they know they would be dead hours later. It's just so sad. On that boat, they were probably having so much fun, being excited about the video shoot and heading onto Florida, never imagining what was in store for them. When Mike left work that morning five years ago, he was probably thinking about what he was going to do when he got home, what he would eat for breakfast, or what he'd do later that day, etc. but it all never happened; he never made it home. He didn't have a clue. Aaliyah didn't have a clue. I don't have a clue. NOBODY knows when it's their time. We need to stop taking for granted that tomorrow will be there, because it might not be. Make the very most of this moment right now because it is the only time you're guaranteed. Tomorrow might not come... for all you know, five minutes from now might not make it. You just never know.

April 15, 2004
Today I was reading through this site and updating it here and there and I'm ashamed to say it's been 2 1/2 years since I've written here. Some friend I am. Well, I guess I shouldn't be so hard on myself, I've been busy. Lindsey is now 7 and in first grade. Six months ago I had another daughter, Logan, who's an absolute beauty. They both are. I'm so blessed. Believe me, in all my grief, I still try to count my blessings and be thankful for what I have. Lord, I do have plenty and I'm so grateful. But damn, I really miss my friend.

So, how am I doing nowadays, now that 7 1/2 years have passed since Mike died? Much better, thank God. Don't get me wrong, I still miss the hell out of him. There's still a part of me that's gone, but I've finally come to terms with the fact it's never coming back. This is the "new" me without Mike. I'll never be the same without him. There are some days that I just can't get him out of my head. Those days usually come after I dream about him. There are even days when it feels as if he just died and I'm in a horrible state of shock, denial, grief and despair -- crying and not wanting to get out of bed. Some days I pull out my "memory" box and read old letters, cards, etc. and get so lost in time, I almost forget he's gone. And for a short while, it feels damn good. I smile and laugh till I'm almost in tears, completely lost in the memories. It's my own little time machine; what a wonderful thing our minds are! Some days I don't think about him at all, or when I do think of him, things feel *okay* and I can smile. I guess you could say those are the "good days". I have far more good days now than before. But all it takes is hearing one song on the radio, and BAM - my feet are knocked from under me and I fall flat on my face, thrown into a whirlwind of tears and emotions.

If I were to try to describe the pain and use the analogy of a wound/cut, I'd say it's not as deep as it was. Well, there's scar tissue there to always remind me it's there (the memories), but it doesn't hurt terribly every single day like it did when it was new. Every now and then though, it gets bumped (hearing a song, seeing something that reminds me, running into an old mutual friend, etc.) and it starts to hurt bad again. A scar never goes away. Over time, it's less noticeable, but it never goes away. People try so hard to hide them and get rid of them, but they're there to stay.

Across the board, grief is much the same... time is the ONLY thing that truly helps. I can't stress that to people enough. There's no one book you can read, counselor you can visit, pill you can take, group support meeting you can attend, or some magical combination of words someone can say that is going to make everything better. Each of those things will definitely help, but the common requirement for any of those to work is TIME, and LOTS of it!

Be patient with yourself and your grief. Don't expect too much of yourself, don't try to "be strong" for everyone around you that is also hurting. You're all in it together, feel what you feel, share it, let it out. Fall apart when you have to. It's okay. I did lots of falling apart. And sometimes I still do.

May 25, 2005
Happy Birthday Mad Dog... I miss you like mad. You should be here right now to help celebrate 35 with me. I mean, I know you're here, but it's not quite the same.

To be continued...

Background courtesy of Sheila's Been Piddlin'