His Life in Pictures

As we began the painful process of planning Steve’s funeral, I was told that I could display some pictures of Steve in the funeral home (this was before photos could be made into videos that are now shown at funerals). I had no idea what to do with the pictures and, as anyone who knows me can attest, I am not creative at all!

I don’t know which day it was, a day or two after he died perhaps, when I started going through years of pictures. I dug some out of my closet. Some came out of our garage. I took pictures out of frames and out of photo albums. I found pictures with each of our family members so that no one would be left out. I honestly don’t know how I did it. Selecting the pictures to be shown at the love of my life’s funeral. I don’t remember if I cried or laughed as I looked through them. The one thing that sticks with me, though, is the memory of being surrounded by family and friends. My house was full of people who loved me!

While I was sorting through pictures, we were also finding songs to play at the funeral. I have a vivid memory of singing to the song, “I Can Only Imagine,” by Mercy Me while I’m sitting on the floor surrounded by pictures of the man I loved. A man who was now gone.

My wonderfully creative friends saved me that night! They took the pictures that I selected and made beautiful posters with them. The posters were displayed at the funeral for everyone to see how special Steve was to us.

There were lots of pictures of me with Steve over the years. It was amazing to see how young we were in some of them! Photos of vacations to the beach, Disney World, Jamaica and many trips to visit our families in Michigan. There were pictures of our pets, our friends, our nieces and nephews. Pictures of us at weddings and graduations. All of the major milestones in our lives were documented in the photos on those poster boards.

Steve was a great father so of course I selected many pictures of him with our children. Some of my favorites were the unposed ones; like the one where he’s playing in the sand with our son or the one where he’s holding our baby girl and kissing her on the head. There was one extra-special picture on that poster, however. It was my ultrasound picture, dated 10/14/04, just 8 days before Steve died. He had gone with me to the doctor appointment so he saw our baby too. It was the only picture I had of our “peanut” so far, and it was as much a part of Steve as it was of me, so I put the picture on display for everyone to see. Steve had created THREE children, not just the two little ones running around with me.

After the funeral was over, I asked my sister-in-law to compile all of the pictures into an album for me. It was so hard to sum up Steve’s life in pictures but I had somehow managed to do it. I wanted to keep them all together so that our children could look at them whenever they wanted to see him again. She created a gorgeous album for me and I still treasure it!

When I look at the photo album now, it’s as if that life was all a dream. I hardly recognize myself in those pictures. I know that Steve’s death changed me, but it’s not until I look at old pictures do I realize just how MUCH I’ve changed. My faith is stronger now. I’m more independent. I’ve been raising three children on my own and they’re great kids. It makes me wonder if Steve would even recognize me if he were to see me today?

A Letter To My Readers

Dear Readers,

I started this blog not quite five months ago. I did it as a way to help me start putting into words the experience of being a widow and raising children. I had no idea if I could even write something that might appeal to others to read. I was wrong! It has been read thousands of times and it has blessed me in ways that I could not even imagine. I have found strength in the comments and emails I’ve received from readers and I truly feel that God called me to start writing it so that I could reach others who are struggling through difficult times in life.

I haven’t been as consistent in writing as I would like to be, however. This is mostly because my life is going so well right now. I know that I should write and share with you when my life is on course but the truth is, it’s much easier to blog when I’m struggling with something. So I am going to make a better effort to document my journey of widowhood more consistently, and I will ask God to give me the words if I’m struggling with what to write. Being widowed isn’t always heartache and pain so I will write about the healing, love and joy that can happen too.

Thank you for your support of my blog and of me.

Sincerely,

Mary

In My Dreams

When Steve died, it was painful to go to sleep. In my dreams, he was still alive and all was right with the world. When I woke up, however, I was still living in the horrible nightmare of his death. The pain in my heart seemed more than I could bear each and every time I had to open my eyes. I wished I could close them and be with him forever. If it weren’t for the two little souls named Cameron and Caitlin who needed me, I might have chosen to join him on the other side of Heaven.

As time wore on, my dreams moved from being WITH Steve to being ABOUT him. Sometimes, the dreams are comforting. In one dream, Steve and I shared a private joke and it still makes me smile to think about it!

I have never mowed the lawn. For some reason, that’s just not a household chore that appeals to me. When Steve and I were married, he would point out other women cutting their grass and I would jokingly say, “You should have married her!” It was always a joke between us that I wouldn’t even try to cut the grass. I felt like that was my husband’s job and he was good with it. One of the many things he did to take care of our home but an ongoing private joke between us.

After Steve died, several male friends and neighbors made sure that my grass was cut. This was no small feat since I had a huge front and back yard so it could literally take hours to mow my yard. After a while, I was able to hire a lawn service to do it.

About a year or so after he died, I had a dream where Steve was standing in our garage. He asked me about our lawn. I told him that I hired someone to cut it and I said to him, “You didn’t think I would cut it, did you?” I have a vivid image of Steve laughing like he always did at me! This dream brought me a lot of comfort. It was as if Steve was approving of the way I was handling some of the jobs he was no longer around to do. I could still hear his laugh too.

Over the years, Steve has come to me in my dreams less and less. Sometimes, the dreams are really disconcerting. When I was married, I dreamed that Steve came home after a long illness and he expected things to be as they always were with us. I had an awful feeling because I was married to someone else. The whole dream centered around my confusion about how to tell my second husband that Steve was home and how to tell Steve that I was married to someone else. This dream stayed with me for a day or two and I felt “out of sorts” as I tried to process it. I’m sure it had to do with the guilt of moving on, but upsetting nonetheless.

Steve visited me in my dreams again a few nights ago. This time, it was more of a strange dream where it was Steve but not really him. I was his girlfriend in the dream. I woke up feeling unsettled but not really upset. Once again, I’m sure the dream had to do with moving on without the guilt this time. I believe in my heart that Steve would approve of the choices I’m making and he would be proud of me.

Choosing to Heal

Moving on is hard to do. Every time I think I’m fully healed from the wounds left by Steve’s death, something happens to remind me that I may never fully recover from such a traumatic experience. I am healthier, for sure, than I have ever been since that October day in 2004, but it’s disheartening when those familiar insecurities find their way back into my soul.

I am in love. It feels good to be opening up to someone who is tender with me and knows my heart has been broken in the worst possible way. He has given me no reason to be insecure…..so why do I find myself questioning the solidity of our relationship? Is it because I’m afraid that he will be snatched away without warning the same way that Steve was taken away by God?

When I start to have these fears, it is all I can do to surround myself with reassuring friends who tell me that my anxiety is unfounded. Yes, we may break up. I have already survived the WORST case scenario so surely I would be able to live through a break up too.

Yes, my boyfriend may die. Isn’t it reality, though, that everyone dies at some point? I can’t spend my life worrying about that or I will be too paralyzed to live! For some reason, giving myself these “reality checks” doesn’t always make me feel better. I have to really pray for God to intervene and remove my fears. It usually takes me a day or two to start feeling like myself again so I know that’s God answering my prayers.

Before Steve died, I was so completely happy. I remember looking at him playing with our children and thinking to myself, “What did I do to deserve this life?” After 19 years together, I was still madly in love with him. When God called him Home, I was devastated. My very being was crushed and I felt “out of my skin,” like I wasn’t even the same person anymore. I walked through life as if in a fog. It took group counseling, individual counseling and anti-depressants for me to start to find a new normal without Steve.

Here it is seven years later, I’ve found myself and I’m opening up my heart. Most of the time, I’m content to move forward and leave our relationship in God’s hands. It’s just that every now and then, those same abandonment fears creep in without warning. When they do, it’s like starting all over again. I don’t think you can suffer a loss like I did and not to have some scars from it. My hope is that God will continue to strengthen me so that I can love openly without being afraid of getting hurt again.

Someone once told me that God’s gift to me is my life but what I do with it is my gift to Him.  I choose to heal and to love again. Thank you, God, for being with me every step of the way.

The Power of Friendship

I always knew how important my friends were to me. In our early twenties, Steve and I moved 800 miles away from our families so our friends quickly became our family. We spent holidays, celebrated special occasions and shared the ups and downs of early parenthood with our friends.

When Steve died, however, the friendships I had built over the years became monumental to my survival. My “chosen family” surrounded me with love and care in the absence of my real family. Friends brought us meals. Someone cleaned our house. Others pitched in to drive my children to school and sports activities. We received gift cards and donations to pay for things that we needed.  A neighbor replaced my broken garage door opener. My trash was taken to the curb and my lawn was mysteriously mowed. I even had a friend come over to get Cameron and Caitlin ready for bed so that I could rest after work. Another friend offered to be my labor coach so that I wouldn’t be alone at doctor visits. 

One of the most extraordinary instances of friendship occurred when I went into preterm labor with my baby. A neighbor kept Cameron and Caitlin while another neighbor drove me to the hospital, multiple times! Preterm labor happened regularly during the final weeks of my pregnancy so these two ladies were always “on call” for me.  The hospital I was using was over an hour away from our homes too!

It wasn’t just friends who stepped up during this hectic time of my life; strangers pitched in to help me and my children too. Firefighters collected money, gift cards and presents for my children at Christmas. A woman that had never met me went door to door collecting money for us because she lived near Steve’s fire station and felt a need to help us. Firefighters put new tires on my minivan. The list goes on and on…. 

Throughout all of this, I was overwhelmed at the love shown to us by friends and strangers. I had never felt so alone in my entire life yet God continuously reminded me that I wasn’t alone at all. I may have lost Steve, but our every need was being met without my having to ask for anything. It was okay that I couldn’t take care of myself because God saw to it that others would provide for me until I was strong enough to do it again. My children were constantly surrounded by people who loved them while their mother grieved. Some of the people who stepped in to care for us during those early months without Steve were merely acquaintances before his death. They reached out to us and became lifelong friends in an instant.

In the midst of our tragedy, I felt God’s love at work. I was in awe of all that friends, neighbors and strangers did for me and my children and I am still so grateful for it. I know I would not have survived losing Steve without the power of friendship. God truly blessed me.

Healing A Broken Heart

When my high school sweetheart, my husband of ten years, the father of my children was suddenly killed, my heart was torn in two. My very being felt ripped apart as if my soul had been shattered into pieces. I could never imagine a time when I wouldn’t hurt as I did in those early days, weeks and months.

As time went on, however, I learned how to live a new life. I wouldn’t say my heart healed because I still ached for his kiss, his touch and most of all, his companionship. He was my best friend and my life felt empty without him.

I remarried three years later because I thought my heart had healed. I was very wrong. I thought that I had already lost the love of my life so I couldn’t possibly expect to love like that again. It was the way I justified “settling” for being less than happy. It was only when I realized that I could live a truly content SINGLE life that God gave me the strength to end a marriage that should never have happened.

From the moment that Steve was killed and throughout that short marriage, I leaned on my faith. My pastor was with me from the day Steve died until I could stand on my own two feet again. My church family surrounded me with care and support that could only have come from our Heavenly Father. I could not have survived losing Steve without God’s help.

Even with all of my faith, however, I tried to heal my own heart. I dated before I was really ready to date. I remarried before I was ready to remarry. It was as if I thought I could distract myself from the hole inside my soul. As God continued to heal me, however, I became aware of my mistakes and I had to do my best to correct them.

My biggest error in judgement was getting married to a man who could not make me happy so my first order of business was to end that marriage. Even when I knew divorce was the RIGHT thing to do, it was still really hard for me to do. I was in a loving and supportive marriage for ten years. How would it look to others if I divorced after just two years of marriage this time? I had to stop worrying about others’ perception of me and realize that God was the only One who really mattered anyway. If I was doing God’s will, then I would be just fine.

Since my divorce, I’ve spent a lot of time taking care of me. Going on trips that I’ve wanted to take. Spending time with my children. Turning my house into a home. I started working out with a trainer. I’m more involved in my church. I’m even falling in love again. I’m more at peace with my life than I have been since Steve died over 7 years ago. I believe that God has continued to heal my broken heart in His time, not my time. I’ve learned that I can’t rush the healing but if I am patient and if I continue to have faith, it will come.

Tough Enough

I’m starting a new Bible study on parenting and it’s got me thinking about something I’ve never considered before: Steve’s death is part of the plan that God has FOR MY CHILDREN. I’ve spent the past seven years praying for God to show me how to live my life without Steve, to lead me to where He wants me to be. I’ve found healing in helping others who are grieving their own losses. Throughout all of this, however, I concentrated on being a good mother without ever realizing that God has a plan for my children too!

My own father died when I was nine years old and I can now see how it prepared me for losing my husband. I had already experienced a life changing loss, and since I survived it once, I knew in my soul that I would live through this too. It didn’t lessen the shock or the heart-wrenching pain that I felt when Steve was suddenly gone but it did allow me to be swallowed up in the grief knowing that someday, I would make it to the surface and be able to swim again. I didn’t know exactly how I would endure the loss and I certainly couldn’t imagine a life without Steve, but something inside me kept reminding me that I had done it once in my life so I could do it again.

When I was watching the video for my Bible study, I had a moment of realization: I am only here to guide my children and to teach them because they are really God’s children. He has a plan for them. He already knows how their life is going to turn out in the end. In fact, He knew them before they were even born. This means that Steve’s death is part of the plan He has for them just as my daddy’s death was part of my life plan too.

What an incredible moment of clarity! I don’t have to protect them from the pain of losing their father. It’s only my job to teach them how to heal, how to live through such a loss. Perhaps they are being prepared for a loss later in life or perhaps they will use their experience to help others? Only God knows how Steve’s death will fit into their lives but it gives me comfort to know that He already has it all worked out for them.

I’m not sure why I’ve never thought about all of this before now. Maybe it’s because they were so little and I was consumed with the day to day caring for them? My children are growing up, though, so I’m starting to see bits and pieces of who they will be as adults. It’s easier for me to think about their lives in the “big picture” and also to start letting go of some of my responsibility as they begin to make their own choices. A huge part of parenting is teaching our children that choices have consequences. I’m not always very good at letting my children suffer the consequences of their bad choices, but I’m getting better at it. I think that it will become even easier for me now that I can lean into the understanding that they are really God’s children and it’s just my job to help them discover His plan for their life. I can let go of trying to shield them from the pain of a life without their daddy.

I am a stronger woman for the losses I’ve had in my life and my children are tough enough to endure their losses too. I have faith in God and I have confidence in my children too. I am looking forward to seeing how their lives unfold and the incredible things that God has planned for them!

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