Well...it's about that time of year again. The time where I sometimes shut down. I'm sometimes short with people and crabby. I might just like to be alone. Or cry by myself.
It's anniversary time.
June 17. Father's Day.
June 30, 2010. Patrick has his heart attack and first surgery at Froedtert.
July 7, 2010. Patrick has issues and they bring him in for a 2nd open heart surgery.
July 11. I close on the house. Our house. It will be gone.
July 15, 2010. Patrick is placed on the transplant list.
July 16, 2010. Patrick is moved from Froedtert to St. Lukes.
July 19, 2010. Patrick has a stroke.
July 22, 2010. 12:40am. Patrick passed away during his 3rd open heart surgery. This year is also the 5 year anniversary of Patrick's marriage proposal.
July 25, 2010. Wake
July 26, 2010. Funeral
August 12. Patrick would have turned 37. Only made it to 34.
August 14, 2010. Patrick's committal ceremony at the cemetery.
I don't need sympathy. I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I don't need or want the attention. I've come to accept over the past 2 years that the big "W" stamped on my forehead means something other than widow. It means wife. It means I had someone great to make me a widow. Someone who asked me to marry them. Someone who was my husband and I was his wife. Not many people are as lucky as Patrick and I were to find each other. I think he was the only "luck" I ever had in the world.
Please hug your spouse tonight. Don't get mad they didn't take out the garbage or forgot their shoes in the living room. Who cares if they forgot the milk you needed so bad. Or that you have nothing to do this weekend. You are lucky. You have someone. Someone who loves you. Someone who is there for you.
To not have a spouse by your side for 2 years is hard. Very hard. Lonely. Very lonely. Try to raise a baby, now a toddler. On your own. One salary. Bills. No life insurance. Problem after problem. Commuting for 1 1/2 years and missing out on time with your daughter. Trying to sell your house for a year. I could go on and on. But I don't like thinking about all the bad things. I haven't even touched the surface. You think you know because you're my family or friend? Or from what I post on Facebook? I don't tell people 1/2 of my story. That I keep to myself. If you all really knew what was going on in my head, I'd be in the insane asylum. Locked up. No joke.
How did I get by the past 2 years? Obviously I have great family that is helping with me with Olivia. If it weren't for them, I would NOT be here. I also have very caring friends. I was in an 8 week support group shortly after. Great experience and a lot of help. I did not choose drugs or alcohol. I didn't choose depression. I didn't choose walking away or taking my life. I have my own coping strategies. I may look like one tough bitch on the outside, but I'm not. That's how I cope. That's how I get through every hour. I keep my emotions inside and let them out on my own time and by myself. That's no one's business but mine. I had to get up and out of bed every day. I have a daughter who needs me and I need her. If I would not have fought these last two years, I would not have her. She makes me get up every day. She makes me work hard to support her. She makes me smile. She makes me "ME". It used to be Patrick that did all of those things. I did everything for him and with him in mind. Now that's Olivia. I just wish I could do it for the both of them.
So...are having a "bad day". Check yourself. Ask why you are having a bad day. Did you get a paper cut or did someone you love die? Did you get yelled at work or did someone you love die? Did you get a speeding ticket or did someone you love die? Check yourself. Talk to someone who lost someone they love. All of those things that might make you think you had a bad day....are really a good day. Because more than likely you had someone you love to complain about it to. A lot of people I have met over the past 2 years don't have that. They don't have husbands to complain to. They are widows. WE are widows.
These past 2 years have flown by. Lots of days during that time were the longest in my life. I am proud that I made it.
Please just pray and think of Patrick. I don't want him to ever be forgotten. Always remembered. Always in your heart.
I'm sure he's made his appearances to many of you. I would love to hear the stories.
Here is a link to the 22 day story. I'm warning you. You will need time to read this and may want to be alone. I can't read it without crying my eyes out every time. It's tough to look back and read everything he had to suffer to try and stay alive for 22 days.
|The happiest day of my life.|