Five Years ......

...... but who's counting?
Aside from me?
I'm pretty certain that 6 other people are.

And even though he'll never see this,  I'm writing this post to Jim.
Just ..... because.
And because I need to.
I also need to buy stock in Kleenex.

Hi Honey,
So I know that to you there is no time ..... you live in a place where the boundaries of days, months, and years don't exist.  But here ...... here 5 years is an eternity.  And an instant.
Five years ago this morning I can't remember what time I got out of bed.  I think I got home around 3 in the morning, but I'm not even sure about that.  I think that you died around 1:00 a.m. and maybe I saw you for the last time (though it wasn't really you anymore) around 2:00.  I really have no idea of the timing of all of that.  Not after the second time the surgeon came out.  Time stopped for me.  It stayed stopped for a very long time, in spite of passing.

Five years ago today I not only had to deal with the fact of your death, but at this time that day I was getting ready to leave for the funeral home.  Impossible to believe and barbaric .... all at the same time.  Most of what we do, or what we are expected to do when someone dies is barbaric.
Thank you notes top the list.

But I digress.
As I usually do, and yes, I know you're thinking, as I usually did.  :)
I love you, too.

At lot has happened in five years, Jim.
So much.
Some bad, some good.

I'll start with Daughter #1.
When you died she was at home, doing an internship and applying to grad schools.  You knew she had applied to Harvard.  You didn't live long enough to know that she got in.  One of four people accepted every two years.  Out of thousands.
Maybe you knew.  I'd like to think you knew.

So she went to Harvard.  And Russia.  I visited her there at the end of her term.  You would've enjoyed seeing it with us.  Not my favorite place, nor would it've been yours, but still neat to have gone.

She graduated the next year.  She's been in the northeast since then, but isn't having much luck working in the field she studied.  It seems the reality of that field, and what Harvard teaches about it, are very different.
So she's searching.  She's trying to "find herself" and what else she would like to do.  She's always loved languages (like her mother) and now speaks 3 pretty fluently.  She's thinking about teaching, which would require a bit more studying, but she's up for it.  You know her ...... she'll be able to do anything she sets her mind to.

Daughter #2 is finishing her up masters this spring in Social work.  Yep, she wants to be a social worker.  In New York.  Or, as you knew, maybe work in Kenya, where her heart is.
I took another trip to Kenya this past fall, my first one since the first trip ..... which was 3 weeks before you died.  It took me 5 years to be able to go back.  The funny thing is ....... I think I may have gone to Kenya for her.  I found a place where she could possibly work, and live.  It seems like a perfect fit.  We'll see.  She still has a very huge heart ..... especially for children and women who are hurting.  She has so much she wants to do.  And she probably will.  You know her ...... she'll be able to do anything she sets her mind to.

Daughter #3 is teaching deaf students and loves it.  I think, like any teacher, she has a love/hate relationship with teaching.  It's such a tough job now, with little support.  Still.  That much hasn't changed since you were on the school board.  I wish it had.
But she loves her students.  Immensely and passionately.
She's also getting her Masters (in Counseling), but she's doing it at Gallaudet in Washington D.C.  She goes there in the summers and does it on line during the school year.  She has one more year to go.  And, this would be a big surprise, she's into running.  Like ...... marathon running.  I know!!  Out of all six she would've been the last one I would've guessed would run a marathon.  Let alone several.  Several times a year.  And she does a great job!  She's pretty quick.  I can't believe how much she's taken to it.  And how quickly.  But you know her ...... she'll be able to do anything she sets her mind to.

Son #1 graduated in May, a year ahead of schedule and is working.  He actually, like you, got offered a job before he graduated.  He finished a year ahead because he changed his mind.  Again, I Know!!  The last of all six who'd I've thought would EVER change his mind about his education/career.  But he did.  He decided that accounting wasn't going to be for him.  He still graduated in Accounting.  And in Spanish.  And now has a good job that he seems to like.  It's in Dallas ...... for now.  He'd like to live in New York and since his company is based there, he probably stands a pretty good shot of being there.  Soon.
You know him ...... he'll be able to do anything he sets his mind to.

Son #2 graduated last year.  I wish you'd been here for it.  He's still trying to find himself and what it is that he'd like to do.  He decided that the Marines wasn't for him, which made me sad, because I think (as did the Marines) that he would've excelled there.  But it wasn't what he wanted.  So he came home. Sort of.  He lives here but he has his own apartment.  Life isn't easy for him, but it's never been easy for him (a bone I still have to pick with God).  Sometimes I worry about him, but not for long.  Though he tries to hide it, has always tried to hide it, he has the biggest heart of anyone in our family.  And he's strong.  His emotions are strong.  His love is strong.  He misses you so much.  One day he'll figure things out.  You know him ...... he'll be able to do anything he sets his mind to.

And then there's Son #3.  Wow, have I needed you these past 5 years to be his dad.  You know he was only 13 when you died.  He still had a lot of growing up to do.  He still needed a lot of parenting.  But my parenting changed, Jim.  I was alone.  No one had my back, and it was hard.  That wasn't all a bad thing.  I also gave up a lot of battles.  Not any wars, but just the battles.  I realized that none of them were really worth fighting.  Or they weren't worth the consequences of fighting.  If you'd been here, we would've fought a few, together.  But one can't win a battle by oneself.  It takes too much out of you.  And too much had already been taken out of me.
So I did the best I could.  In the first two years "doing the best I could" meant staying alive.  Literally.  And since I'm not there with you, but still here and writing this "letter", you know I did it.  Dang it.
:)
Son #3 has been challenging (which is SUCH a simple word for what it truly means) but he's also been fun.  And helpful.  And loving.  All when he chooses, but such is the life of raising a teenage son.
He's graduating in May and finally, Jim, FINALLY, we have a child who will attend OSU.  It only took 6, but it was worth the wait.  He and I went to all of the home football games this year.  I loved doing that with him and I look forward to attending next year's games.  And Mom's weekend.  And everything else he'll remember to tell me about, or invite me to.
He's turning into a great young man.  He's also trying to find himself in so many ways.  He has a road ahead of him.  But he'll do it.  And he'll be successful in whatever he does.  You know him ...... he'll be able to do anything he sets his mind to.

And then there's me.
This could be a book, but I'll try to just hit the highlights (or the highlights of the lowlights).  Your death changed me.  In more ways that I can list.  It, and the grief that followed, changed me physically. It's so scary to know what grief and stress can do to a human body.  I was perfectly healthy when you died.  Other than that high cholesterol thing, but that was it.
I have no idea in what order everything hit, but since you've died I've:
*been diagnosed with pernicious anemia (and have weekly injections .... from myself (I KNOW!))
*had a malignant mass removed from my hip (that was a year long nightmare)
*been diagnosed with a heart arrhythmia (meds and yearly tests)
*had sinus surgery
*had shoulder surgery
*been through physical therapy (back and shoulder)
*had back injections
*put on, and will always be on, depression meds
*diagnosed with ADD (totally due to widda brain, hopefully will go away)
*and last (maybe, can't remember if that's everything), but certainly not least .... in any way, been diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, which I tried to ignore, and deny this year, both to my ultimate disadvantage.  I'm on weekly injections (myself) for that.  Tomorrow I start a new treatment.  I go in once a month for an IV infusion of a new med that has too many very scary side effects to even think about.  But I'm taking it because a person can only stand pain 24/7 for so long before they decide they don't want to deal with it, or anything else, anymore.  If you get my drift.  And I don't want to end up in that place, ever, ever again, so I'm trying this med.  Each infusion takes somewhere between 3 and 6 hours, depending on the patient and how much you get.  Tomorrow will take at least 3 hours because I'm starting off with a lighter dose.  For the first 2 or 3 times, I think.
Fun, right?  At least it's not another shot I have to add to my weekly schedule.  And I hope and pray that it works, because nothing has so far.

I also hope and pray that it's the last thing my body's hit with, but that thought cracks me up (not really) because it seems that another shoe is always ready to drop.

But it's not all been bad, Jim.
I've been to Russia.  I visited Son #1 in Spain.  I went to Germany.  I took Daughter #1 on a cruise to Greece and Turkey after she graduated from Harvard.  Mom and I went on a Greek cruise last year (it wasn't so much fun for me because that's when the R.A. slammed into my body and I didn't know what the hell was going on).  But it was beautiful and I think she loved it.

I quit my job at church because I knew that God had something else in mind for me.  Two days later I accepted an offer to be on the board of Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation.  And I found my passion.  Well, I had found it by then, but God just really solidified it, and backed it up, which was really nice of Him.  I want to reach out to widowed people.  I need to reach out to them.  To tell them the things I didn't know so they won't think they're going crazy.  Or that they're all alone.
So that's what I do.
I still write ...... only I write more now.

Yes, I've changed.  And I've lost some friends because of that change.  Some you'd be surprised at.  Some you wouldn't.
But I've gained more friends than I've lost.  And the friends that I've kept have shown me what true friendship is, and what true friends are, and do.  Grief is ugly and not everyone can handle it.  Some of us aren't given a choice.  The people who choose to be with us have that choice.  For now.  One day they won't.  And hopefully I'll be here.

The biggest change though, is just now happening.  You'd better be sitting down for this, unless you already know it.  I leased an apartment in New York.  Yes, the city.  As in, Manhattan.  On the west side, off of Columbus Circle.  You remember where that is .... where Lincoln Center is.  Beautiful.  In fact, I have a view of Lincoln Center from my apartment.  And behind my apartment?  Central Park.
Too cool.  You know how I've always loved NY and loved taking the kids there.  You and I had sometimes talked about living there when the kids were grown, just to see what it was like.  Well, that's exactly what I'm doing.  Only I won't live there full time ...... yet.  I'm trying it for a year, but on and off.  I'm splitting my time between Houston and NY (and OSU).
But I'm excited.  And happy.  And looking forward to this.
For the first time in five years, Jim ...... I am all three of those things.  And it feels great.
It would feel better if you were here, but you're not.  And you won't be.  And, though that's not really OK ...... it is OK.  I'm moving forward.

I'd like to think that you know all of this, that you see us and are with us in some way.  But I don't think I really believe that.  Unless God has some kind of filter up there, so that you can see things here without feeling sad.  Because I know there's no sadness in Heaven, but I also know that if you'd been by me these past 5 years, you would've been horrifically sad.  Like me.  So, maybe I'll choose to believe that there is a filter so that you can see us.  My first dream of you, was you and me sitting at a table and you telling me that I was going to be ok, because you were there and you could see me ...... and the kids.  And that you weren't leaving.
It was a dream that I didn't really believe.  But part of me has held on to it and still chooses to hold on to it.

I love you.
So much.
I will always love you and will always be thankful that God gave you to me.  Forever.  That was something I can honestly say I never took for granted.  Sometimes I couldn't believe that God loved me so much that He gave me you.  Then He took you away.  That, I could believe.  That, I thought I deserved.
Thank you for ...... everything.  Thank you for the 6 best gifts anyone ever gave me.  I hope, that in spite of my changed parenting, you're proud of my mothering.  I know you're proud of them.  Heck, even in spite of my mothering.

These past 5 years have been a lot of horrible things, Jim.  But they've also been good.  I've seen God's promise come true.  You know, the one about using bad stuff that happens to us for good.  He's done that.  A thousand times over.  He's helped me to help others.  And while I feel so ineffective at that, any time someone tells me that I've made even a tiny difference ..... I thank Him, and you.  Because it's then that I know that your death wasn't just one horrible, catastrophic nightmare.  God used it, He used you and still uses you ...... and He uses me because of you.  So helping someone else lets me know that you, your life, and your death matter.  Not just to me and the kids, but to people who never even knew you.  It matters.  And I guess ...... that I matter.  In spite of being human, sinful, weak, and grieving.  I matter.  To someone.
And that's huge.

I'm still single, as you know, and I'm OK with that.  I'm more than OK with that.
For now.
I hope that I find love again .... real love.  True, deep, selfless love like we had.  I know that you want that for me, too.
But if it doesn't come my way, at least we had it.  And I'm good with that.
:)

Well, I still wrote a book, didn't I?  I wrote so much that I'm not going to back and edit it.  I'm not going to look for grammatical/spelling errors ...... you wouldn't notice them anyway (English wasn't your strong suit, my love).  :)
Please give your Mom and my Grandma a big hug for me.  They've joined you since you left, but you already know that, right?

I'll keep looking after the kids as best I can ..... but since they're pretty much all grownups, that gets harder all the time.
I love you.  You're always in my heart, always a part of my heart.  So really, you are here, aren't you?
And always will be.
I'm doing well.  I'm looking forward to what lies ahead.  And I absolutely look forward to the day I lay eyes on you again.  I may not remember that I want to yell at you for leaving me here to deal with all I've dealt with, but you'll know it anyway.

I miss you.  I always will.
I love you.  I always will.
Thank you.
For so much.

With all of my heart,