Today Is Jeff's Birthday

Today is Jeffs' 44th birthday.  While I couldn't commemerate the day Jeff died, and the jury is still out on the term 'Angelversery', I can get behind celebrating his birthdays.

My primary goal, after making sure the kids are fed and watered, is to make sure they remember their father and live their lives as he would have raised them.  This is a tall order.  Often it means forcing myself into events that I am not emotionally ready for - but the boys are.  It also means making myself go do "fun" things for the kids when I just want to stand back and cry.  I say that this makes me feel like an actor in my own life.  I fake happiness at these events so as not to overshadow the actual happiness my kids feel.  It's exhausting.

Last year, the family celebrated Jeff's birthday and it was both painful and joyous.  We ate a triple chocolate cake and Jeff's homemade ice scream. [As an aside, I never will figure out if Jeff spelled it that way because of spell check or if he actually thought it was spelled ice scream.  A mystery for the ages.]  We swapped many "Jeff stories" and laughed as much as we cried.

This year, I made a "Chocolate Wasted" cake and his homemade ice scream.  Lest you think I didn't spoil him in real life.  The year I was pregnant with J1, Jeff asked for homemade stuffed cupcakes - think chocolate hostess cupcakes.  So I stood in the kitchen for hours, feet swelling up, and made him chocolate cupcakes with chocolate frosting, with whipped chocolate ganache stuffed in the middle.  I took care of my man.

Saturday night was a normal dinner party, the kids ran around and played, the adults talked and ate.  It was hard to talk about Jeff, other than his love of chocolate, but there were a few stories.

April 30th will always be Jeff's birthday and I plan on using it as a chance for my boys, friends and family to have the opportunity to talk about Jeff.  To share, laugh, and cry.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife

Booper

Who is Booper?

Jeff.

The story as I know it: When Jeff was pledging his fraternity and he was being introduced as a member to the group, the president mispronounced his last name and called "Please welcome: Brother Booper".  And Booper was born.

I recently heard that name, which always makes me smile, at Jeff's birthday celebration and it reminded me of this list his friends recently made.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife

Ways to honor Jeff today:

1. Go to a restaurant, and while waiting for your food, tear up your napkin, straw wrapper, and any sugar packets on the table.
2. Have a beer (oh, and tear up the bottle label).
3. Eat anything with hot sauce.
4. Wear a blue shirt (get hot sauce on it).
5. Watch Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi.
6. Have a chocolate martini. Or seven.
7. Go for a motorcycle ride, on a Harley, of course.
8. Consume some beef jerky.
9. Snore.
10. Play a video game.
11. Listen to an audio book (start with the Harry Potter series).
12. Go to Atlantic City.
13. Go to Vegas.
14. Do something to help a total stranger who appears to need help.
15. Eat a donut. Doh!
16. Watch an episode of Bugs Bunny featuring Taz.
17. Chunk a pumpkin.
18. Eat a turkey leg at the nearest Renaissance festival.
19. Make a large group of fraternity brothers smile by doing something goofy.
20. "Fix" anything on your friend's car.
21. Take apart a computer or build one from scratch.
22. Buy a water gun and act like a 10-year old.
23. Have a Halloween party.
24. Take a spin on a go-kart track.
25. Volunteer.
26. Cause a bit of harmless mischief.
27. Wear your tie on your head.
28. Drop your cell phone into a bowl of water... any toilet will do.
29. Help BT build something (college dorm room "lofts" or a gazebo).
30. Barbecue with very tall flames.
31. Hug a child.
32. Decorate your house with Christmas lights.
33. Wear anything with the Harley Davidson logo on it.
34. Go to the nearest NASCAR track and take a lap.
35. Take a sailing class.
36. Fly a kite.
37. Play in the sand at the nearest beach.
38. Tease your mother.
39. Visit Toys-R-Us, you don't need to take a kid with you. You are one.
40. Build something with Legos.
41. Watch Lord Of The Rings.
42. Pretend to be a architect by using Ctr+C and Ctr+P all day.
43. Renovate a run-down school bus to just barely pass inspection.
44. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh.
45. Ride a roller coaster.
46. Drive to Florida while listening to ZZ Top.
47. Call a friend to check on them and see if they need help with anything.
48. Rollerblade down the Capital Crescent Trail.
49. Love your friends.
50. Love your family.
51. Love life.
52. Help a friend in need the answer was always yes before he even knew the help you needed
53. Show your wife the turn you used to take too fast and launch the BBQ off the back of the truck.
54. Bring fun to the party -- any party
55. Be kind to a stranger.
56. Have extra parts after everything is assembled.
57. Send J1 in to wake up Uncle BT- the earlier the better
58. Ski the basin with JG and BT
59. Be with your family - Your happiest place
60. Become a sandwich press master, egg and cheese product for breakfast, peanut butter and jelly for lunch, and tuna fish and cheese product for dinner
61. Play lemmings for 24 hours straight
62. As a passenger in someone's car it is your duty to test every button, knob and flap to make sure it is in working order even if you checked them before
63. Carry McDonalds coupons with you at all times to hand out
64. As noted in # 62 regarding testing all buttons, knobs, controls in a vehicle. Note that this only applies to Jeff. Anyone else will receive an elbow across the chest and a loud growl that resembles “Stop that”.
65. The ski slope is not too steep, unless you are you a chicken.
66. Go to Dave & Busters and win the largest stuffed animal prize there is.
67. Make some awesome pizza dough in your bread maker.
68. Use your truck to help someone move.
69. Replace so many of your own bumpers that it would be a good idea to know the local bumper salesman.
70. Perform all of your own car maintenance and repairs yourself.
71. Set up a home internet network. (Jeff did this before many businesses had them)
72. Try an unusual food (just not peas).
73. Generously offer two of your fraternity brothers a ride to Taco Bell, get very mad as they fight in the back of your truck, and when you get to Taco Bell, kick them both in the ass and threaten to leave them at the restaurant. Then promptly get back your truck and drive off, as your friends laugh at the idea and don't seriously think you will leave them stranded at the Taco Bell up on 192. Return to campus and let someone else go pick them up.
74. Be the best damn Junior and Senior Steward any fraternity has had the pleasure of being served by.
75. Enroll in any civilization class (take your pick Ancient, Midevial, or Modern) at least 2 times, and on the rare occasion 3 times.
76. Get irritated when someone calls you Bunny, get furious if its your pledge brother RC.
77. Pass gas that would make Godzilla gag.
78. Help plan the best bachelor party in history for your friend and fellow pledge brother MA. This is to be followed very shorty by the 2nd best bachelor party for your other pledge brother KW.
79. Open your house to anyone you call friend or even just a friend of a friend for extended periods of time until they get back on their feet or get a job.
80. Take a midnight road trip to Atlantic city, gamble until noon, then pop over to your brother's apartment in Philly on the way back to load a 500 pound mahogany bar into your pickup truck and haul it back to your rental house in Bethesda. Oh yeah, then figure out how to get it into your basement. Then get some sleep.
81. Always have the ingredients for a Moose River Hummer at your disposal.
82. Be a fierce and often merciless supporter of the Redskins and their fight for all deceit.
83. Grow a beard that has no beginning and no end.
84. Be the most physical nose tackle in flag football (next to KW of course).
85. Give someone a purple nurple that makes them wish they never had nipples.
86. Put Old Bay on Everything!
87.  When building something create a plan that is not really a plan but more a guide to what you might or might not build but never admit that, especially not to your engineer father in law.
88.  Underestimate the time required for any task by no less than 1/4 of the actual time required. Realize this is true and therefore multiply the time you think by 4 to still underestimate the actual time required by half. A trait we shared making all projects twice as enjoyable. 

Swimming With the Sharks

At the start of 2013, I declared that this was a Rebuilding Year.  Last year was all about survival running to put out one fire after the next, but I wanted to move on, I wanted to start living life.  As I described before, my grief makes me feel like I am treading water.  But instead of swimming on towards rebuilding, I feel like I'm still treading water and now the sharks are circling.

You know the first scene in Jaws?  When the girl goes out into the water and then TUG!  She goes down and pops up (Gasp!).  Then TUG!  She goes down and the third TUG she is attacked? 

Da-na, Da-na..Da-na, Da-na.....Da-naDa-naDa-naDa-naDa-naDa-naDa-naDa-naDa-naDa-na!

Yeah, my first TUG was J2's Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) diagnosis, my second TUG was J1's Celiac's disease diagnosis.  Now I'm sitting around wondering what the third TUG is going to be, the one where the great white shark eats me.

I just wish it would hurry up, the waiting is killing me.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife

The To Do List

The night that Jeff died, while I was unable to sleep, I made my first "To Do List" (TDL).  It wasn't even my list.  It was a list of all the places to call, doctor's appointments and other things that had been scheduled that either I or Jeff or the kids would not be doing.  I then gave the list to my mother and BFF to do.  I couldn't call friends and family to tell them Jeff had died, I wasn't about to call random people and do the same.

In the days after Jeff's memorial service I started my master TDL, there is no rest for the grieving, not when you have to consider money, food, health insurance, wills, life insurance, financial planners, etc.  One thing about being swamped with this task is that it gave me something to focus on, something to control and to do.  But it also left me with the feeling that I was running on a treadmill with no OFF button.  Running as fast as I could to keep up because I didn't want to flying off the back and smack my face into the pavement.  It was oddly arduous work.  After I had a copy of Jeff's death certificate, I needed to process the life insurance.  Once I had that, I needed to interview financial planners and get one on board to help me with the money.  I had to continue COBRA health insurance coverage, move Jeff's 401K moneys (which he had never combined from his various jobs so there were so many).  I had to make a new will for myself, process new life insurance for myself, change bills, cancel credit cards, sell the cars and the motorcycle, give Jeff's clothes away.  It was a crazy long TDL.

Then I had the fires to put out, in the middle of all the paperwork I discovered that I made a mistake at the DMV.  When transferring the titles of the vehicles, which were all in Jeff's name, I made an error in the gas mileage.  This ended up being a big deal when it came to trying to sell one of the cars. 

My dryer died.  My basement flooded.  My kids got the Hand/Foot/Mouth plague. I was in a rampaging fight with the hospital over $700 (my insurance paid the wrong doctor).  I was without health insurance for 2 months when COBRA forgot about us - I was paying them, but my doctors weren't getting paid in return which was wracking up major bills and problems for all involved.  I started to feel like Job.  I couldn't take anymore.

Then magically, at about 5 months after Jeff died.  It all stopped.  My COBRA got squared away, all Jeff's estate paperwork was filed, my new will and life insurance were done, I had a new dryer, my basement was under reconstruction, the fight with the hospital was peacefully resolved (bummed about that one, I really wanted to go to small claims court over that... but I was just feeling petty).

So then, without a TDL my treadmill stopped.  I was left with the soul sucking empty feeling of my grief.  I slid, slowly under the water and into the grips of sadness.

I read somewhere that grief feels like being stranded on a boat in the water.  But I'd take it a step further, it feels more like treading water after your ship has gone down and you are looking around at all the life boats a 100 feet away filled with families.  Moms and Dads and Kids.  Whole families. 

I don't want to be jealous I want to be happy for their good fortune but I'm so tired.  So tired of keeping my head above water I just don't have anything strength left in me to feel either way.

But I'm a good swimmer, I can tread water forever.  I'm a survivor.  I made a new To Do List.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife

My Daddy Died

Hearing these words from my 3 year old son (now 4) in his sweet, high pitched, toddlerish voice... it was as if three samurai swords pierced me through the throat, heart, and gut.  It hurts.  Physically.  Every single time.

Yet, he is working through his own grief, the major change he experienced in his life, and to do that requires him to repeat this phrase, a lot.

I reply: "Yes, Daddy died, Daddy is in heaven, Daddy loves you very much."  He is 4, what more can I say?

I look at my youngest son and I see Jeff.  I see Jeff in his brown eyes in his chin and cheeks.  Jeff is in his skin color and the shape of his head.  Jeff is in his barrel body shape all the way down to his funky toenails (they grow straight up, it's weird).  I look at J2 as if he is a mini-me of Jeff.  Except for his nose.  He has my nose.

J2 will cheerfully tell you his Daddy died.  In the past year: he told the dental hygentist, an instant friend at the Chick-fil-A playplace, and random people he meets out and about.  This always gives people a pause, then they look at me with the question on their faces and I have to explain.  Sometimes I would like to be annoymous, go about my day without having to inform people that yes, I am a widow.  But that depends on how J2 is feeling that day.  If Jeff is on his mind, he tells you he died.

But that is all he remembers.  I look at J2 and I know that this child, the one that is a carbon copy of his father, will never truely have a memory of Jeff.  He won't recall that Jeff tossed him in the air, he won't remember Jeff reading him stories at night and putting him to bed.  He won't recall all the tractor rides that Daddy gave him after Jeff finished cutting the grass.  Or that his father was so fun loving he would climb into a narrow flat screen TV box and play spaceship.  The places they went together the things they did.  Those are my memories.  Mine to impart upon him as I do when we look at pictures of Jeff or something prompts me to tell a Jeff story. 

I know that over time, J2 will have heard me tell him so many stories he will almost think he remembers them himself.  But I know, I know in my heart, he never will.  And that is another painful aspect of Jeff's death.  One I live with everyday as I gaze upon my children.  The man I chose, the one I knew would make a great father, is not here to raise them.

J2 kisses Jeff's picture every night and if I am tired or have forgotten to get the picture down, he reminds me.  I like that reminder more than hearing him say "My Daddy Died." But at least he remembers something, anything of Jeff, even if it is his absence.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife

Hello Darkness My Old Friend

Know the most common emotion in grief?

Anger.

Anger for me is like putting on a glove.  I spent so much of my teens and twenties royally pissed off, that to embrace my anger again now is like wrapping myself in a snuggly blanket.  It's warm, it's comfortable, it's familiar.  I can breathe in the scent of anger and it gives me focus.  Anger is a drug.

Angry at what?  That's easy.  Jeff's death.  Who isn't pissed off?  How could he be gone?  How dare this happen?  I'm angry he died.  I'm angry I'm alone.  I'm angry he isn't here to raise his boys.  I'm angry at the water and soil and air and fire.  Even if I look calm on the surface, there is anger simmering underneath.

Who am I angry with?  That's easy.  Myself.  That's the real fun part.  I'm angry I left him alone to nap.  I'm angry I never knew about SUDEP.  I'm angry that I am no longer living the life I expected.  I'm angry that I'm not a better person.  I'm angry I'm not a better mother. 

Know who I'm not mad at?  God.  Weird right?  Never even crossed my mind and I'll tell you why.  From the moment I found Jeff, all through CPR, in the ambulance, at the hospital. I begged God.  I asked Jesus to help me.  And you know what?  He did.  My church and friends fed my family for a month after Jeff died.  I have support from both my parents and Jeff's.  I have friends that came over and moved my furniture when I had my carpets cleaned (something I'd had scheduled before Jeff passed).  My neighbors put up my outside Christmas lights.  Friends put up the inside ones.  Another neighbor shoveled my driveway this winter.  Friends have cleaned my house.  Friends worked to finish the bathroom remodel Jeff had started.  Oh, I've had help.

I could split hairs and say that it wasn't exactly what I meant.  I really wanted Jesus to help me by saving Jeff's life.  But I accept that it doesn't work that way.  I asked for help.  I got help. 

Yet not being angry at God makes me even more angry with myself.  I'm angry I didn't ask for Jeff's life.  I'm angry I asked for myself without even thinking.  It wasn't conscience.  But that is what I got.

One thing I can say about my anger is that I know it's there.  I may have welcomed back an old nemesis but I know it.  I can tame it.  I may roll around in my anger, let it burn along my skin, but I will not let it harm me.  It's OK to grieve, it's OK to be angry.  It's not OK to be self destructive.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife

10 Years

Today is my birthday and I turned 40 (well at 8:59 tonight).  Other than a gluten free cupcake with the boys I am not celebrating the day.  I know what Jeff had planned and it will never be that so I just don't see doing anything else.  However, my kids would riot if there wasn't birthday cake...

I find it remarkable what events happened in the past 10 years of my life.

When I was 29, it suddenly occurred to me that I was about to be 30 and I wondered what I had to show for myself.  With that in mind I did two things: I applied to graduate school and I went outside my comfort zone in an attempt to meet people (men).  For some reason, I still couldn't do online dating but I joined two groups that tried to bring people together.  Single Volunteers (where a group of single folks worked a charity event and then would go out to lunch together) and Dinner at 8 (where 8 people went to dinner). 

Shortly after I turned 30 I received my acceptance letter into graduate school and about a month later I met Jeff.

My time with Jeff seems like a whirlwind now.  We met, a year later were engaged, a year after that: married.  A few months after we married we bought a house and the following year we welcomed our first son.  Two and a half years later we had another boy and I finally finished my graduate degree.  Three years later, Jeff died.

In ten years I went from just being by myself to being: girlfriend, fiance, wife, homeowner, mother, harried mother of two, graduate, and then widow.

My boys have provided me a sense of purpose in the past year.  Without them, I don't think I'd be as functional as I am now.  I look at those descriptive terms above and the one thing that will never change is that I am a mother.  I changed from being Jeff's girlfriend to finance to wife to widow but I will always be a mother.  And that is the greatest gift that Jeff has given me. 

The quote says "It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all."  The only thing I can add is that I would never exchange this pain I am in if it meant I didn't have my boys.  To have never known Jeff?  Never had these experiences together in the past 10 years?  Nope.  I'll take the pain. 

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife

Where the (bleep) is Jeff?

Whenever anything significant happens in my children's lives I think of Jeff.  Jeff was a very active parent, involved in all aspects of his children's lives.  He took off time from work to attend parent teacher conferences - even at the preschool level.  He was always there for the first day of school starting with preschool.  All my pictures of those days are of him holding J1's or J2's hands and walking them into the building.  Then when J1 went to Kindergarten, he followed the school bus.  From our bus stop to the school Jeff trailed behind and called me when he saw J1 enter the school.  Jeff was at the first few doctor visits, although with kids there get to be so many and I can honestly say he missed about 99% of them. 

When J1 was in the hospital overnight for reflux issues, Jeff was there.  When J2 contracted RSV and was hospitalized at 11 days old, Jeff was there.

Jeff called me repeatedly throughout the workday.  In addition, I would receive easily a dozen emails.  Every random thought he had he would email me.  Which still boggles my mind that he could still forget to tell me important events when he communicated so regularly, but that is a different tale.

The first time I thought "Where are you, Jeff?" was after J2 bashed his teeth out, see http://survivingaftersudep.blogspot.com/2013/03/when-fear-arises.html.  I was kneeling next to J2 as he was wrapped up and anesthetized and I was struck by the realization that I not only didn't call Jeff he wasn't there with me. 

Now, major events are happening in our children's lives.  J1 was just diagnosed with Celiac's Disease and we have to give up gluten.  This is a genetic disorder and while I am being tested we are out of luck to test Jeff.  Giving up gluten is a huge change in my children's lives and in mine.  I will need to do more cooking which I pretty much stopped doing after Jeff's death and the cost of gluten free foods is astronomical.  I know what Jeff would have said with this diagnosis but I miss having him here to share this change with me.  To discuss, to complain, to cry.  I will never have that now.  I am not alone because I have friends and family.  But I am alone without my husband.

Where I really feel this loss of partnership is in the developmental diagnosis J2 recently received, Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD).  Because after I got over my shock, my spiral into a 3 day depression, and got to learning about SPD I discovered how much of it was Jeff.  And what I have lost is my greatest resource for understanding my child with SPD, his father.  It is times like this where I cry and I cry out "where are you Jeff?"  As if he would have left us willingly.   

But he is still gone and I have major life changing events to deal with.  I knew Jeff well enough that I know how he'd react, but going through these issues without his input isn't fair.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife

The Second Easter

This year was the second Easter without Jeff.  I find that hard to believe.  There were some notable differences: mostly that I didn't fill 500 eggs but about 50.  I finally got the math right.  Oh the years of stuffing plastic eggs with Jeff the night before, us in front of a movie, all the time he would mutter "you know you're crazy, right?" The next day, he would prove me correct and there would be far too many eggs in the lawn for our kids to find.  He'd end up running over a dozen or so with the tractor later on and we'd find egg and chocolate mulch left behind.

I like egg hunts, I took my kids to three and had one at home this year.  The day before Easter we were at a helicopter egg drop and then went to Chuck E Cheese with friends. (By the way, the helicopter egg drop was just the sorta thing Jeff lived for: a new and different fun experience)  I mostly avoid Chuck E Cheese because it reminds me too much of Jeff.  Jeff LOVED to take the kids there and it really only gives me a headache.  He loved to play the games, collect tickets, sneaking off to play games he was good at to ensure that the kids would get a ton of tickets for some cheap prize, and he never thought the food was bad.  It fit him, much as the years he spent at Dave and Buster's fit him. Only, now he had the perfect excuse to go: he had kids.  Jeff really was a kid at heart, he just liked to have fun.  It breaks my heart to go because I feel like my kids have been robbed of their father.  The first time I braved Chuck E Cheese after Jeff died J1 said "Daddy's missing all the fun stuff." And he is.  We are.  It isn't fair.

I made it through Easter better than last year.  I didn't sob my way through church service that is all about death and resurrection and life everlasting.  When I think of Jeff in heaven it leaves me with questions more that answers.  I wonder if he is truly at peace or does he see how much we are struggling to live our lives without him?  Does he know the pain we are in? 

I topped the day off by repairing a marble racing toy that Jeff had built Christmas of 2011. 

This toy took him four hours to build on Christmas day (it has over 400 parts), mostly because he built one side backwards and had to take it apart and start over.  It was unfortunately broken in the days prior to Jeff's funeral and has sat in a plastic bin for the past year.  My kids have asked for it to be fixed numerous times because it was a great favorite.  I built it with Jeff over my shoulder this Easter.  I did OK.

The Easter holiday starts a long spring marathon of family birthdays and events.  All of which were excruciatingly painful for me last year.  In the next two months we have my birthday, Jeff's birthday, our anniversary, Mother's day, and J1's birthday.

Easter went so well, it did give me one thing: it gave me hope for the other events.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife