Feeling blah...but going to ELLEN!

For the last few weeks I have found myself irritable. Impatient. Blah. I couldn't figure out what exactly it was stemming from. I am really mindful with my emotions and what is causing them. Especially when they are negative feelings. I went to therapy last week and started explaining this and my therapist pointed out a few reasons behind my mood.

The weather changing and bringing us closer to summer is such a good feeling. But I forgot how seasons changing leaves me feeling sad and grief-stricken. The change in weather, change in months, and holidays reminds me of time passing without Matt. It signifies more time that he is missing. More memories that he isn't part of.

Mother's Day is a hard. Much like all the other holidays. Matt made both myself and Val a mom. I love that we share this bond. I also know how very much I love my kids and I can only imagine what it must feel like for Val to celebrate Mother's Day. Full of joy for the years spent raising Matt and Justin. Pride for the men they have become. And equally heartbroken that one of her children isn't here to celebrate her.

I am especially thankful for Matt's cousin, Alyssa, this month. One of my dreams has been to attend a taping of the Ellen show. I love what Ellen is about. Despite what we believe, what negative stuff is going on in the world, or where we are from, there is always room for laughter, dancing, and kindness. I have recorded her show for years. In fact, watching her show was one of the therapies that got me through some of the darkest days after Matt passed. Unbeknownst to me, for roughly 6 months, Alyssa had been trying to get tickets to Ellen's show. And recently, she told me she got four! Tomorrow morning, Alyssa, her mom, Val, and myself are going to California for a girl's weekend. We attend the taping on Thursday and I am more than thrilled!

This trip is coming at such a perfect time. It has pushed myself and Val through Mother's Day and given us both something to look forward to. As much as I don't like being away from my kids, I always come home with more love and appreciation for them. Plus, my dream becoming a reality has me giddy with excitement!!

Taking Steps

As I write, I am sitting on an airplane headed to Disneyland. Yes, I did just go with Olivia. But this trip is adults only with my mom, aunt, and cousin. I am eternally grateful for these women. That they recognize the importance of having rest. They see the need for me to be away from my kids and rest and relax. I am also incredibly grateful for the community I have at home taking care of my babies. Specifically Matt’s parents, Val and Larry. Without them, I don’t know that I would be comfortable leaving. 

Mom guilt is a serious thing and it weighs heavy on me while I’m away. Especially going to Disneyland of all places. But I know this time away will make me appreciate and love my kids more than I already do. And lately, I have been feeling the need for a break. My kids haven’t necessarily been behaving badly. They are my heart. My life. But it does get tiring. Really, really tiring. I haven’t even taken off yet and I already miss them.

I have mentioned before the reasons for writing my blog. It’s cathartic and therapeutic for me. It forces me to be intentional with my thoughts during the month and truly focus on ways I am struggling, growing, hurting, and healing. Some months I find myself celebrating victories. Other months I find myself wallowing in more pain than I can even articulate. I would say this last month has been a big mixture of both.

When I moved into our house, everything got put in a place. Now that I have been settled in the house for over a year now, I am finding that stuff isn’t organized to my liking. The towels may be in the linen closet but they aren’t in an order the way I prefer. The games and craft items are upstairs where I want, but not at all organized. Slowly but surely I am finding time to really put things away the way I want. Most recently, my coat closet. This was a catchall for all things coats, vacuums, and random items. Also in this closet was a box of Matt’s coats that was appropriately labeled “Matt’s hall coats.” When I was cleaning things out, I decided that this box would be a good baby step. 

I have not yet touched any of Matt’s items. I still have everything that ever belonged to him. All shirts, pants, socks, and even underwear. Nothing has been gone through. If you don’t know this about Matt, he had a lot of stuff. He, surprisingly, liked shopping. He would buy a sweatshirt and like it so much and later go back and buy it in two or three different colors. The task of going through Matt’s possessions is not only hard emotionally, it is also very overwhelming. How in the world will I ever decide what to do with all of it? The coats were no exception. In this box were roughly 18 coats. Some are still packed away in other boxes. Those 18 didn’t include coats he wore for snowmobiling or hunting. They didn’t include suit coats. 

Opening this box of coats was painful. I looked at all of them carefully. I went through all the pockets to see if he left anything in them. I laughed when I didn’t find anything. How was there not one receipt or wrapper in any of the pockets? I also laughed at the similarities between so many of the coats. I could hear our (loving) disagreements when we would be shopping. “Matt, don’t you have a coat just like that at home?” “Well, this one has a hood” or “this one is grey.” Laying them all out just made me smile because of the way his thought process was when buying all these coats. The heartbreaking part of it all was how much life was left in the coats. I cried thinking how similar this is to Matt himself. So new. So much life left. Hardly worn. 

What I decided to do with Matt’s coats was see if his best friend, Eli, wanted to go through them. I was hopeful that he would say yes because I wanted to see them worn more. I wasn’t sure if this would be a painful or comforting piece of Matt to have. I took the box to Eli’s and left them on his porch. When I drove home, I sobbed the entire way. I never dreamed that letting go of coats would be so painful. I just kept thinking “this isn’t right. This isn’t something that I should have to do.” Eli appreciated being thought of and found use for some of Matt’s coats which has made my heart really happy. 

As a freelance sign language interpreter, one of the many things I’ve always loved about my job is the flexibility. I love that I can pick and choose when and where I want to work. But work isn’t something I have done since September 2015. Prior to Matt’s passing, I worked on occasion. Matt was always very encouraging of the career I chose. He always praised me and said how cool my job is. He also saw how becoming a mom fulfilled me and how it’s what I was born to do. Matt never pressured me to work but encouraged me to keep up on my career because he could tell I love it so much. When Matt was in the hospital, I was fearful of how being a stay-at-home mom would change. I thought losing him would mean working full time and putting my kids in daycare. I wasn’t sure how I would juggle it all while working. What a blessing to find out that I didn’t have to work. Because in all honesty, going back to work caused me a lot of anxiety. 

I take my job really seriously. I want to be seen as a professional and remain composed in all situations. Freelancing also means that my job changes every time I go to work. I could be working in a school setting one day and the next be in a medical setting. I also feared being asked by clients or people at my appointment about my personal life. These conversations happen all the time. And if tears come, I am not afraid of them. I had anxiety wondering how I would compose myself if the tears came while working. This long break from work also had me concerned that I would forget my second language. I haven’t attended workshops or been involved with the Deaf community in a very long time. I didn’t want to show up to a job and find myself struggling to interpret well. 

The agency I work for is owned by someone very dear to my heart. Kari hired me right out of college. She has always kept me as busy as I wanted to be and always gave me the confidence to do jobs that I was unsure of. She appreciated me. She saw the value of family and made sure that I knew it was important to always keep family first. Kari has been in my life for a long time. Behind me and supporting me through so much. When Matt passed it was no surprise that she told me not to worry about work until I was ready.  

Kari recently emailed me about a job and wanted to know if I would accept it. When I say “job”, I mean a short appointment with a far drive. This appointment was with a client whom I have known for many years. Someone who has followed my journey, supported, and prayed for me through everything. Someone whom I am comfortable with even if I were to happen to break down in tears. So, I took the job. This was such a huge step for me in my grieving process. It was ripping the band-aid off my biggest anxiety wound. I was incredibly proud of myself for taking this step. And I was extremely grateful to Kari and the client for their patience for me to get to this point. 

I think the importance of both these milestones is taking time for reflecting on sadness. While going through Matt's coats and driving to work, I kept reminding myself "it is ok to be sad." It is such a simple reminder that life is sad sometimes. And allowing myself to feel those emotions is vital to healing. I can be really sad that Matt isn't here to share my victory of taking a job. And I can be really sad that I have to go through his possessions. Allowing the tears allows my heart to heal. My heart will never, ever be the same as it used to be. My heart will get put back together with a hole in it. Taking steps by taking jobs and going through Matt's stuff will only help me heal in a new way. 

Sometimes I don't want to think...

I woke up really irritable today. I feel crabby and agitated. And I know exactly why. It's the 15th. By now, I should have spent time reflecting and processing so that I can blog what I have experienced this last month. But I haven't yet. I knew in order to write today that I would have to dig into my feelings and emotions. I've grieved Matt. Ask my dad. He saw me in a meltdown on Monday because of it. But I haven't sat and processed much and frankly, I just didn't want to. I have 5 different blogs started right now. Each one containing only a paragraph or two. None of them feel right yet to post. So today, I will see what comes out in words. While this process never ends, while it's a daily and exhausting road, sometimes I don't know what to say. Sometimes my thoughts are so heavy and consuming that I find it difficult to actually articulate what I am feeling. And that's how it is today.

We are on "Survivor Benefits" because of Matt. I hate that label. Yuck. But because of these benefits, I am able to stay home with Olivia and Rylan. Something I am incredibly grateful to Matt for. I recently got a letter from social security that was really vague but that stated I needed to come into the office before March 21st. Today was probably a bad day to choose since it's the 15th and my emotions are heightened. But we went. Between meals, swimming lessons, ballet, my workouts, therapy, etc, it's a challenge to find the "perfect" time to devote to social security. My kids still nap. Naps are precious in my house. I need them to nap as much as they need to nap. This morning Olivia had ballet so we went straight afterward. Close to two and a half hours later, we were done. And for what? For the agent to tell me that Rylan needed his own savings account. Really?!? They called us in for that?? A letter wouldn't have been sufficient? The lobby was packed full of crabby people. No one wanted to be there, especially on a beautifully sunny day. Not an empty chair either. Which meant the 3 of us sat on the floor. Also, there were signs everywhere say "No food or beverages. Not even water." It felt like some sort of torture facility. Depriving us of even the most basic needs like water. Add in a 4-year-old and (almost) 2 year old...ugh.

The point to all this is that even after 29 months, dealing with his passing is still a daily task. Not only does it require emotional sorting, it requires my time and effort. I had no idea that death meant so much work. That sounds really bitter. I am thankful for our Survivor Benefits. And really, social security could have made this whole thing so much easier for me. Regardless, it was still something I had to do because of losing Matt. But the list doesn't end yet. There are always things to do. I am constantly jumping through hoops. Whether its health insurance, finances, the IRS, his personal possessions, or events/situations I am faced with, there are always emotions and things to do to prepare for.

The next few weeks bring a lot of celebrations which also brings a lot of sadness. We celebrate a lot of family birthdays this month: Matt's dad, his brother, Rylan, and mine. Rylan will be two. April brings Matt and my anniversary. A day that fills me with dread. I know I haven't devoted enough time to process what is ahead. I know I need to sit and actually think about it and let myself be sad. But for now, I am going to escape my reality, shake off the terrible time at Social Security, and watch Ellen while the kids are sleeping.

New Accomplishments, New Pride

Matt loved Super Bowl Sunday. It was a holiday for him. The food, drinks, gathering with friends and family, and of course, football. This year, I wasn't vested in the teams playing. I didn't care. So instead of having a party and making Matt's favorite foods, I decided not to do anything. I laid low. I relaxed. I felt good about my decision. Until bedtime. I crawled into bed and decided to watch the new episode of This Is Us. If you don't watch, you should. If you do, you can likely understand how trigger-filled that show is for me. During this particular episode, there were times I felt like I was watching myself on screen. I kept having to pause the TV and catch my breath as I was crying so hard. I also realized that by not doing anything was my way of avoiding a difficult day. I have never used avoidance as a way to try and cope the loss of Matt. I know how unsuccessful and damaging it is to try and avoid the grief that comes with his passing. As I laid in bed on Super Bowl Sunday, my emotions came pouring out of me. I realized, once again, how it is better to face my emotions than run from them. I realized how I should have handled the day. I saw that recognizing Matt in some way, could have made my evening just a little bit easier.

The sadness I experienced that night was so overwhelming. It was Super Bowl Sunday and I had done nothing about it. I didn't even have the chance to visit Matt. I felt I failed him. I sobbed during This Is Us as I watched similarities of my life unfold on TV. In that moment, sadness wasn't something I tried to avoid or pretend wasn't there. I knew it was necessary to cry and grieve. I knew that it was warranted and Matt deserved it.

This last month meant a long-anticipated trip to Disneyland with Olivia. I had been planning this surprise trip since well before Christmas. She had no idea we were going until we got to the airport. Spending time with just Olivia was amazing. We had the best time I could have imagined. I often forget just how little Olivia really is. Seeing her around Rylan all the time, I see an older child. But seeing her in Disneyland I saw her in a different light. I feel closer to and more in love with Olivia than ever before. I have a new appreciation for her and the way her mind works, how she loves, what she enjoys, and what makes her crabby. Being alone with her gave me the opportunity to learn so much about her that can easily get lost in the mundaneness of the day-to-day.

I knew Disneyland would also bring an ache to my heart. New experiences with Matt and my kids are really hard. They are hard because he should always be part of them. He should be part of the text messages, phone calls, planning, and excitement. Also, my most recent memory of Disneyland is from 2013 when I went with Matt. We had just had two miscarriages and my doctor wanted us to wait a few months before trying again. Matt and I wanted to go somewhere that would forever change when we had children. So we picked Disneyland. We had such an amazing time together. It was so fun going as grown adults and without children. Naturally, taking Olivia reminded me a lot of my time there with Matt. I wish so badly Matt and I could have taken Olivia to Disneyland together and seen her excitement together.

I decided to spend time on our trip and really be proud of myself. If anyone had asked me in the last year or two if I would ever take Olivia to Disneyland alone I would have said: "absolutely not." Why? Many reasons. Traveling alone. Reminders of Matt. Anxiety in new places. Cost. Leaving Rylan. The list goes on. I came home from our trip with a new sense of pride for myself. I don't acknowledge my accomplishments very often. I don't say that I am proud of myself. I don't want to come across as boastful or full of myself. But I am learning that part of really loving myself means taking the time to recognize the steps I am making towards a good life for the kids and myself.

My therapy sessions lately have been similarly themed as we talk about my accomplishments. My therapist has recently said how she wishes she could have recorded me when I first started seeing her. She sees a major transformation in my perspective, my accomplishments, and my process of grief. She takes the time to make sure I know that she is proud of me. We talk about how this doesn't mean that my grieving is complete. Or that life is suddenly easier. There is no end to processing something like the loss of Matt. What I have learned from her is that if I am mindful of what days are ahead and how it might make me feel, I can cope and handle my grief better. That also means being ok with the overwhelming sadness and crying. Tears bring healing. Crying is good. Just when I think I have a grasp on grief, something comes along to remind me that this process is never over. This hole in my heart will never fully repair. And Matt's absence will always be felt.

Olivia Turns 4

As I begin to write, it is January 8th and not even 6:00 AM. I shouldn’t be up yet I have been awake since 2:15 this morning. My brain just won’t let me go back to sleep. I finally gave in, got some coffee, and am sitting in bed watching Ellen. Writing is such a release for me. It helps me get some of what’s on my mind, out into words, allowing a release of sorts. This often leads to some mental space allowing me to sleep better. 

I can’t help but spend time thinking about Olivia. January 9th was her birthday. When the New Year rolls in, I find myself ready to get my house back in order and reorganized. My internal “nesting” kicks into high gear. I start cleaning, purging, organizing, and planning. I have lists galore of the things I want to get done for her birthday party. 

If you don’t know this about me, I am a planner. I am a do-er. I am Type A personality and hate when I don’t accomplish things I am supposed to do or things I want to do. This trait was highly beneficial for me when Matt passed. On one hand, I isolated myself and shut myself off from the world. I struggled with going out in public and doing anything I used to do. But I also had my long lists of things that needed to be done and places that needed to be called. 

I remember one of my first meetings with my financial adviser after losing Matt. Jeff sat with me in my mom and dad’s kitchen and had a list of people he wanted me to call before our next meeting. Calls like to Matt’s HR department, the garbage company, the credit union where Matt’s Jeep was financed, etc. Our next meeting wasn’t scheduled for weeks but by the next morning, I had checked everything off my list. Jeff laughed when I emailed him with the information I had gathered. At our next meeting, he handed me a binder to keep important documents in. He gave it to all his clients but he said I am the only one who had it color-coordinated, 3-hole punched, labeled, and brought it with to every appointment. 

Planning Olivia’s birthday party is so fun for me. I enjoy searching Pinterest for ideas on the theme she chooses. This girl loves tigers so when she said “Mom, I want a tiger party,” I quickly started brainstorming ways to turn our house into a jungle. I enjoy the busyness that planning events provide. It is a welcomed distraction to keep my mind off the bigger issues that are constantly circling in my head. 

Olivia’s and Rylan’s birthdays weigh heavy on my heart. Despite my best efforts to plan the perfect days for them, I can’t ignore the huge piece missing. I have said before, and I will say it again, Olivia and Rylan are my heart and my joy. I was born to be a mom and I love motherhood. I do. It is tiring, hard, draining, messy, and wonderful. What makes my motherhood even better is that Olivia and Rylan are Matt’s babies. He chose me to raise his kids. He saw in me the ability to be a good mom and entrusted me with a huge and very important task. Obviously, we didn’t know his life would end so suddenly. But I am thankful every day to Matt for making me a mom.

With this thankfulness, there’s also pain. I am a mom because of Matt. I think about the moments when I shared the news with Matt that we were pregnant. Four different times we were elated. Twice we were heartbroken when we miscarried. I think of when Matt first heard their heartbeats or saw Olivia on the ultrasound for the first time. I think about when he first felt her kick and how he was sure it was me just messing with him. I remember him recording me in the middle of the night when I was really pregnant because my snoring was keeping him awake. And then I think about my labor and delivery. Our moments together during that life-changing event were so beautiful. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since Olivia was born when I looked at Matt and said to him, “I want to do that again.” He thought I was absolutely nuts. But my heart was bursting with love for this little girl, for Matt as my husband, for Matt as a dad, and for the journey we had been on to become parents. 

Matt was only with Olivia for 21 months of her life. I strongly believe that he will remain an important role in her life. I believe she will have a connection and relationship with Matt because of the diligent effort I make to ensure she knows him. But that connection and relationship also come from Matt. He adored being a dad. Every so often, Olivia will bring up a memory of Matt that surprises me and catches me off guard. If she’s eating something new or sweet, she will say “Mom, Daddy liked this. Mom, did Daddy like gumballs? Gumballs were Daddy’s faaaavvvorite.” Did he like gumballs? Maybe at some point but I wouldn’t add them to his list of favorites. I just love that she connects things she loves, to her Daddy. I love that she has genuine real memories of him. I love that she talks about him and remembers him. 

Olivia and I were recently driving home one night. She said to me “Mom, I want a Daddy. I have a Daddy. Daddy is in Heaven. Everyone else has a Daddy. I want a Daddy.” Despite my best efforts, I still wonder if I failed her. I wonder if my response was enough. I wonder if telling her that Daddy is always with her and that he can hear her and she can talk to her is sufficient. Of course it’s not. This little girl should have a Daddy here. Not in Heaven. Not visiting him at a cemetery. He should be here to celebrate her and her birthday and all the changes life brought her this last year. 

Olivia’s birthday and the day of her party were just as they should be for a four-year-old. We ate donuts and “Old MacDonalds” and opened presents. We had dance parties and Olivia told everyone that would listen that she is now FOUR! We went to visit Matt on her birthday. We toasted her dad and acknowledged him in our celebrations. I decorated our house all week leading up to her party and did my best to make sure Olivia felt incredibly special. 

Like any other event I have in our home, there is always a letdown when everyone leaves for the night. The house quickly becomes quiet and dark and reality sets in that Matt wasn’t part of another very important day. It happens every time. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, family gatherings, and birthdays. Everyone leaves and suddenly I am left feeling nauseous and consumed with the heaviness of my grief. The part that still surprises me, and probably always will, is how heavy the grief still feels. I feel like I prep myself for these big days. I do everything I can. I talk to Matt, I attend therapy, I reach out to those I'm closest with, but inevitably, there is still a huge letdown. There is still a major feeling of loss and sadness. 

I have celebrated more of Olivia's without Matt than I have with him. I never thought about that until right now. Matt was only alive to celebrate ONE birthday with our sweet girl. ONE. A shift I have seen though is my ability to hold things together. I am able to get through most situations without being caught off guard by my grief. I have come to expect that the night will bring my pain. These milestones and parties are also a beautiful reminder of those in our corner. It shows me how blessed we are by the ones who walk through life with me. My children are loved by so many. I am thankful for outreach from those who thought of her and wished her a happy birthday. Each acknowledgment of her day makes me thankful with Matt that we have such loving and supportive people in our lives.

Olivia's birthday interview

Party favors for Olivia's friends

Decorated all week long

Tiger paw cupcakes

Decorated and ready for her party

Included her favorite snacks

Olivia's "boyfriend"

Joey, Christie, & Stella. Thankful for this friendship.

Joey, Christie, & Stella. Thankful for this friendship.

Auntie Well and Uncle Andy

GG & Papa Cot

GG & Papa Cot

Grandma Val & Papa Larry

Olivia & Sienna

Olivia & Sienna

This sums up the three of us so well. Olivia thinking she's being sweet when really bugging Rylan, Rylan wanting to move, and me just wanting to capture the sweet moments. 

Uncle Josh, Kash, & Auntie Katie

Uncle Josh, Kash, & Auntie Katie

Tuckered out after a full, fun, and busy day

We realized after she had fallen asleep that Grandma and Papa Mark didn't get their picture with her so we improvised. 

Stress, sleepless nights, and an empty bed...

Over the course of the last month, I have experienced an entirely different kind of stress. Stress that has left me puddled in meltdowns, caused so much anxiety, and made wonder if I will ever sleep again.

Back around Thanksgiving, I went to therapy. During the hour with my therapist, I crumbled beneath all the things that life was throwing my way. I was tired. Stressed. My therapist was incredibly worried about how little sleep I had been getting. Shortly after we moved into our house, Olivia started sleeping with me. It has been her bed as much as mine for the last year and a half. I have talked in depth about this with my therapist. She has reassured me time and time again that as long as my sleep wasn't being disrupted that sharing with Olivia was just fine. And it had been fine. I slept great with her beside me. In fact, it was a comfort just as much for me as it was for her. But recently, I hadn't been sleeping well. Olivia squirms and kicks, waking me several times in the night wanting water or to talk to me about what she wanted to do the following day. During my therapy session prior to Thanksgiving, I was given the task to get Olivia to sleep in her own bed. It was my homework. That afternoon I went home and explained to Olivia that she was going to sleep in her own room. I prepped her as best as I could knowing that we were in for a long night. And I was right. Olivia got up at least 30 times that first night. So many tears...and not just from her. After that first night though, she started getting better and better about staying in her room.

I thought I was ready for Olivia to sleep in her own room. Sharing a bed with her meant I was never alone. It meant I couldn't wake up before her. It was not having a space of my own. I thought an empty bed would be a sense of freedom. Ultimately, it made the loneliness I feel even more intense. I have only slept by myself a handful of times since Matt passed. Now with Olivia in her own bed, it is a vivid and hard visual reminder that I am alone. 

Olivia sleeping in her own room didn't mean there was peace and restful sleep for the three of us. In fact, it meant quite the opposite. Along with sleep training Olivia, I had been mounded by financial stress that I haven't ever experienced. Prior to marrying Matt, I lived at home. When we got married, he took over the duties of paying bills and making sure everything was set and secure for us. And he did a great job. What I didn't learn, since Matt handled everything for us, is that finances can have highs and lows. I also didn't realize the amount of pressure I would feel running a household entirely on my own. I kept getting hit with large bill after large bill: filing taxes, a crappy painter getting undeserved pay, a huge vet bill, stitches when Rylan cut my finger, and now the stress of preparing for the holidays. The list of financial stress is long. Add to that having to find a new health insurance plan only to realize that it would cost more money and having to find a new doctor, etc, etc, etc. Thankfully, I have the guidance of a financial advisor. We recently met and he comforted me with where things are at. He told me that everyone blows their budget from time to time. He helped set up a plan and made me feel (almost) entirely better. 

Olivia finally found a rhythm and comfort for sleeping in her own bed. My meeting about my finances should have made me feel so much better. And then...Rylan got the flu. Every night he would wake up sometime around midnight, crying. I would go into his room to find him and his crib covered in vomit. I would stick him in the tub, rinse his sheets out, get laundry started, rock him back to sleep, and get back to bed an hour or so later. And then he would do it again. And again. This pattern went on like that for a week. Nighttime became dreaded. Even when I was sleeping, I was waiting for the sound of him crying to wake me. Knowing the crying signaled more vomit. Rylan's flu didn't just mean that he and I didn't sleep. It meant that his curious sister would wake up wondering what was going on and if her brother was ok. It was the juggle of trying to get a sick baby cleaned up and back to sleep and coerce a three-year-old to get back in her bed. 

It was during that week that I would sit in Rylan's room at night and sob. I would finally get Rylan comfortable and clean, I would look at the clock and realize how much sleep I was missing, and just cry. I was angry. I was worn out. I was stressed. I would sit there and tell myself that I didn't sign up for this. I didn't choose this. I married and had children with Matt with the intention of having a partner for life. I expressed this anger to my therapist recently and she asked me what Matt would have been good at when dealing with sick kids, finances, and long to-do lists. I told her how good he was at seeing what he could to do lighten my load. He didn't need to be asked or reminded. He saw where he could pull his weight and just did it. Whether it would have been laying in Olivia's bed with and getting her back to sleep, helping with Christmas shopping, hanging lights, or just saying "we are going to be ok." Matt and I were equals in our home. We shared the burdens and the triumphs. And now I struggle with how I manage it all on my own.

Single parenting is incredibly hard. I never knew the amount of pressure or stress single parenting would bring. It means always being on. Even if I do get away for a short time, it means that I have to be accessible and prepared should they need me. I've always been a busy homebody. What I mean by that is a busy myself during the day. Running from activity to activity and keeping us out and about. But during the evenings, I like to be home. I like to sit in the quiet and reflect on the comfort and safety of my home while also recouping from the busy day. Being a homebody means I have to be diligent about getting out with my friends. And being a single parent makes that even more of a challenge. 

Everyone I know, everyone I socialize with, has a husband. So when a girlfriend asks if I want to get together for dinner, it means arranging a sitter. And even though my sitters are the grandparents, it still means challenges. If I happen to be out after the kids go to bed, most of the time I get home to find Olivia asleep on the couch waiting for my arrival. Or if she is in bed it means that she cried before going to sleep wondering when mommy will be home. Being out also makes me feel guilty that I, their only parent, isn't home to tuck them in and say their prayers. I also feel guilty anytime anyone watches my kids for any reason which I know is something I have to work on. With Matt being gone, I put a ton of pressure on myself to be with them at all times. They are missing out on so much by not having a dad. I never want them to look back at their life and feel as though their mom was absent. 

Rylan is now 20 months old, the same age Olivia was when Matt passed. Over the course of the last month, I have looked at him differently. I see all that his world encompasses, who he knows, what he likes, and what makes him nervous. I see all of his life and what Matt was able to experience with Olivia. And then I see her. I see Olivia at almost 4 and how much of her life has changed since we lost him. The milestone of Rylan hitting 20 months has been emotional for me because I wonder what Olivia grasped as her world was turned upside down. I look at him and wonder what must have been going through Olivia's mind in the days and weeks following his passing.

We are 10 days away from Christmas. A time of year that should be joyful and exciting has turned into a feeling of obligation. It is our 3rd Christmas without Matt and isn't any easier. In fact, there are new challenges that I see this year that I didn't in the years prior. The kids being older, more opinionated, and busier means it is harder to get out and shop. It is harder to be outside hanging lights since Rylan doesn't know where the sidewalk ends and the street begins. It requires all decorations being higher than 3 feet so things don't get broken. I know once Christmas is finally here I will be able to sit back and say that it all got done. I will see the excitement and magic through Olivia and Rylan's eyes. I will create new memories with my kids and our families while we all greatly miss Matt. 

Have the Tough Conversations

I've touched on this subject a little bit before. But with the dust being settled and probate being over, I think it is important to write again about the importance of a plan and having tough conversations.

At the time of Matt's passing, I was 29 and he was 33. We never talked about things like a will or life insurance. I remember standing in Matt's hospital room and thinking to myself that I will never be able to figure it all out. I didn't think I would be able to navigate all the decisions and stress that comes with adulthood and raising a family. I never had to. I went from living with my mom and dad to being married to Matt. He paid the bills, did our taxes, made sure our health insurance policies were current, invested in stocks, and set up retirement funds. He never kept me in the dark but I also didn't focus on these topics because I didn't have to. With his passing, I quickly started learning so much about so many areas that I never thought I would.

One of these unfamiliar territories was probate. If you don't know, as I didn't, probate is the process of making sure a person's estate is given to the appropriate beneficiaries. This is the case when there isn't a will or if beneficiaries aren't assigned. (That's my basic understanding of it anyway). When Matt passed, I wasn't immediately entitled to everything "we" owned because the reality of it was that we weren't on everything together. I had to hire a probate attorney to sort through Matt's estate: our rental house, different accounts, stocks, bank accounts, etc. I had to attend meetings with my attorney and try and give them information that I just didn't have. I started this process and was told it would take 3-4 months to complete it. I was told it would cost a certain amount. In actuality, it took nearly 18 months and over double the estimated cost to get everything in order. Because of Olivia and Rylan, a guardian ad litem had to be involved to make sure that their deserved portions were accounted for and given to them in a way that met requirements.

I also had to decide how Matt would be buried and what type of service we would have for him. This was a team effort as Matt's family and I navigated some really tough decisions. I remember the funeral home asking me if I knew what Matt's wishes were. And I didn't. We never talked about cremation versus burial. We never talked about our preference of cemeteries or songs we would want played at our memorial service. Why would we?

Matt and I didn't have a will or supplemental life insurance. I wasn't assigned as his beneficiary on everything. Why would he think he should call his HR department and make sure things were as they should be? Of course he didn't give much thought to the importance of life insurance. Of course we didn't talk about how we wanted to be buried. These conversations are hard to even imagine. But they are even harder to live.

I have learned so much that I never thought I would need to. I'm certainly not an expert but I have had to navigate through some really hard topics and unfamiliar territories. All of this meant added stress. It meant phone calls and meetings that I had to stumble through because most of the time I didn't know what I was talking about. Grieving the loss of Matt is hard enough but adding in the stress from unfamiliarity, finances, and health care was incredibly daunting. Getting everything settled took so much time, money, and organization.

I know this sounds like a topic written for people of my age and maybe younger. But I can't tell you how many people I have talked to who are twice my age, even older, and still haven't had these discussions. My parents had "Will" written on their white board in their kitchen for longer than I can even believe. It was their reminder to finalize their will. That reminder stayed there so long that it wasn't even looked at anymore. When we lost Matt, it was the push they needed to get their will finalized. It was the push they needed to get life insurance.

Losing Matt has opened doors to conversations that families don't want to have. It has allowed us to talk about what we want when we pass. It has allowed us to talk about life support, organ donations, and memorial services. The easy thing to do is not have these conversations. But the stress that comes from losing someone who doesn't have everything planned, is unimaginable. I don't fault Matt at all for not having these things together. Like I said, why would he? He would've been in the same boat as me had I been the one to pass. We, as a team, as husband and wife, didn't have a grasp on the importance of what would happen should one of us pass. Unfortunately, it has meant me having to figure it all out.

My urge, my plea, is to have these tough conversations. Even if you're not married or in a relationship, do it for your loved ones that would have to piece everything together should something terrible happen. Life is fleeting. At some point, we will all need a plan. Do it now. Have a plan. Tell someone where your plan is. Even if its simply scribbled down on a napkin, make it clear what your wishes are. Get the supplemental life insurance. Assign beneficiaries. Get a will. It might mean an added bill each month to pay for life insurance and it might mean paying a few hundred dollars for a will, but the importance of these are priceless.