Update

It's been a long time since I have written an entry.

I have debated writing one for awhile.

I just haven't known what to say. What can I write about that would be beneficial to this blog?

So, a check up would be a fine entry.



Honestly right now I am not having the best time in my life... physically.
Grief takes it's toll on you in the long run.
I am warning you right now. IF YOU ARE GOING THROUGH GRIEF PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.
There is a reason people die from heart break after losing a loved one.
There is a reason that people look different, age faster, etc. after they lose the love of their life.

You can see it on me.
I can see it on me.

I have always had a younger look to me.
But for the past 2 and a half years I have aged a great deal. My hair is graying rapidly.
I have stomach issues and now it seems like I am suffering from sinus issues.
Does all of it relate to my grief? WHO KNOWS.

Since November I have been having constant health issues and sickness. For the past month I have been having pretty intense dizzy fits and it sometimes keeps me from doing normal things in life like cooking, cleaning, driving and even teaching.

I don't want to feel like this anymore.

I just want to feel better.

I am so ready to move forward in my life.
My body is ready too.
I am ready to get better.

four days on my own

Last week I was alone. For three nights.
Something I haven't had to experience since I started dating Ryan. We have always been together.
But it was bound to happen... we couldn't always be at each other's side. So when Ryan got his new job I kind of expected us to be separated for his training. And indeed they took him away for a week.

I hated every minute of being alone.
Of course, I did as much as possible to keep myself entertained. I visited friends. I cleaned the house. I worked extra hours at school.
But my mind was preoccupied.
As much as I dislike being alone... I also dislike the fact that I can't handle being alone. I feel undone. And I feel sort of embarrassed. Mainly because people tend to think they always have the best advice by saying little sayings like "you can never be comfortable with someone else until you are comfortable with yourself" and "absence makes the heart grow fonder."
So, I guess I was supposed to embrace the loneliness?
I guess I am supposed to be ok with it?
Because I am strong?
Because I am ok with that?

It wasn't so bad at first.
I was doing fine. I did aid my sleep with anxiety medication to calm my thoughts... and thanks to the amazing technology we now live with this day and age I was able to video chat with Ryan every night. He was literally the last thing I saw and heard before I fell asleep at night. It made things so much better.

I often think about what it would be like if I could video chat with John in Heaven. 
The things that would be said. The way his eyes would light up and the corners of his mouth pull back to make a smile... the things that I have longed to see for almost two years now. And to hear that laugh again. Oh, yes. That laugh. Who could resist it?? That laugh that was like a song.... and contagious as hell. 


So.
All was going well... I was making it and I was actually starting to feel proud of myself.
And then I get a phone call on Wednesday night from my associate director from last year telling me that one of our students at my former school had died. He committed suicide.
I was floored.
And then all the pride I had felt for being able to be on my own... drained away.
I was in need.
I was upset. And crying. And letting my mind flood with dark thoughts that I desperately wanted to get rid of. There was nothing I feared more than that darkness. That lingering darkness of death and loss.
And it was haunting.
My mind went to thoughts of him
And of his poor, distraught family.
And of finding him.
And of him dead.

And then I freaked out because Ryan was in Jacksonville and I was here.
And I had to comfort MYSELF.
No one was there to comfort me.
And I couldn't find anyone to come over.
I had to figure it out.
I had to self soothe.
And THAT was the bigger task... getting MYSELF to calm the fuck down.
I told Ryan immediately... and then told him I needed a chance to calm down.
I took a shower.
Not a bath (as I usually do) but a really freakin' HOT shower.
And then I did something I do not do enough... I prayed.

I do NOT mean to not pray.
It's not on purpose.
I tend to forget.
And fall asleep.
I suck.

But I sure did pray that night.
OUT LOUD.
No one was home. It was just me, Lily, Cecilia, and God. And so I prayed very loud and very intensely. I prayed for the child's soul. And his poor, grieving family. The people left behind to suffer. The ones I could truly relate to. (except the suicide part...)
I prayed for peace.
Over and over.
Peace for them.
Peace for myself.
I prayed for calm.
I prayed for grace.

And as I got out of the steam... I tried to turn my thoughts to happier times and happier things. I was refusing myself to go to dark places. I had to stay light. Especially when I am alone.

I video chatted with Ryan.
We discussed happier things. Tried to focus on our lives... our future...

I can't get engulfed with other's tragedies all the time. Because I tend to get out of control.
It's a balancing act really.
To grieve and to live.
You have to do both.
But mostly you have to live.
And I just started to do that..... it's taken a long time to balance it out. I had the grief hold the heavier part for such a long time I had forgotten to actually focus on my current life. That I actually was ALLOWED to do so.


So, live, my friends.
Live now.




Ryan came home the next day.
I can't tell you how HAPPY I was.
In my mind he had been gone for way longer than four days. It was an eternity to me.
And I felt so grateful to have him back.
Something about women who have lost before... for the people they eventually love... we appreciate you MORE than most ever will because we know what it's like to not have you.
It is just one of the few perks you get dating a widow.
You're welcome.

The Descedants

Tonight I went and saw the Descendants with Ryan.

I have been meaning to see it because I am very much into the oscars and trying to make it a goal to watch as many Oscar nominated films as possible.

And I don't always agree with the nominees.

But I absolutely agree with this one.

It was a unique storyline.... that many people can relate to... especially to those that grieve. 

It had various types of grief in the movie and how different people react to the grief itself but I believe George Clooney did a remarkable job making his grief seem very much real.

In fact I know the movie is good when it can make me uncomfortable. 

Or cry.

And I felt uncomfortable at moments.

And I did indeed cry.

I cried at parts that reminded me of my own loss but also at parts I would have cried at even before John's death.

I have always been a sensitive person.

John loved me for it.

And now Ryan does.

In fact, Ryan knows me so well now he knows EXACTLY when a scene from a movie will hit me. 

So, when the sad scene comes up I have water filling up in my eyes and then from the corners of my eyes I see Ryan... looking at me.

Like he's waiting for it.

As we walked to the car I say "ya know I hate when you stare at me during the sad parts of the movie waiting for me to cry."

"I'm not waiting for you to cry. I love you. You're so sweet."

Ryan just wants to be there for me. 

He just happens to know what things will make the waterworks happen.

And so he waits.

And then I do everything possible to not cry.

To try and prove him wrong.

That I am stronger.

Because I have a weird thing about crying at the movies.

Because what if it gets out of control?

What if I start making those weird "gasping" sounds and sniffing super loud.

And what if it spirals into a full on bawl?

And what if I make Ryan uncomfortable? 

So I squeeze my eyelids real tight and let the small leaks run down my cheeks.

My tears are so hot on my face because I am trying to hold them in so badly.

I force myself to hold it all back.

But once we get in the car....

I kind of let it all go.

Because I am actually not strong at all.

I am still a pretty weak person.

Who feels bad for crying.

Who feels bad sometimes for feeling bad.

the dresses.

Yesterday, as I was getting ready for a wedding, I had set aside a dress I knew I would be wearing that evening...
but, just for fun, I tried on a couple older dresses...
and it was a bit of a wake up call.

Since John passed I have gained about 20 pounds. Although none of my friends will admit I look bigger ... it's clearly evident when I can't zip up any dresses I was able to wear over a year ago. In fact, Ryan broke one of the zippers when trying to zip me up. I ended up wearing a dress where I felt completely uncomfortable all night and I felt like my boobs were spilling out of the top constantly. It's uncomfortable being fat.
Besides the fat thing the dresses in my closet had a second fault. They taunted me. And one in particular haunted me.
they were all reminders of past events.
Most of celebration.
and one not so much.
These dresses had been with me in moments shared with John. They each had a story to them... and yet, part of me realized... it was time to refresh the wardrobe.
I guess it was part anger.
Part depression.
Part willpower.
Part courage.

It was something... something that made me put the dresses in the back seat of my car and drive to a local consignment shop. I handed over the dresses and the lady looked at each one thoughtfully. each time she had nothing but nice comments to say "oh, this one is nice..." "oh i like this.. " "you have nice taste."
And then it started.
The hot feeling in the face.
The rush of wet.
My eyes flooding.
I was crying over these pieces of material.

The first was a black dress from express. size 8. ha!!!!!!!
**CRIES**
It was a "little black dress."
My most memorable moment in this dress was probably for Holly's birthday. I remember we were in city walk and holly had gotten a lot of gifts. It was then that John, being the gentleman he always was, took ALL of her gifts and brought them back to the car for her... which was quite a hike to the parking garage. I remember there was a vase of flowers he had to carry and he looked so cute holding them with the balloons. You could tell he was doing it to be polite but in a way he may have had regret once he had the vase of flowers in his hand...

Next dress...

I wore this dress to my friend Danielle's wedding. It was BCBG... my favorite designer. Most of my dresses came from that designer. This was the same wedding where i had caught the bouquet and John made a point to catch the garter since last time he had to watch some random guy put it on my leg. He vowed that would never happen again. And it never did. He got to put it on my leg that night... with his teeth... and boy did we milk it. The DJ was nervous we didn't know each other. It was a good memory in a nice springy dress.

Dress #3 also was worn at a few weddings... and was my most favorite dress of all...

It was most famously worn to John's brother's wedding. (seen here in this picture I absolutely ADORE of us).

It was a perfect "autumn" dress... complete with leaves on the bottom.

Beautiful browns... perfect cut... for my then body.

My body now wouldn't be able to squeeze half a boob in it. So, to the consignment it goes. 

I wore that dress to couple other weddings as well... but my favorite of all is Billy and Liz's. Its a wedding that I don't think many others can compare to. Although I swore up and down that mine would have... me and john wanted it to at least match the standard that Billy and Liz had set up. It was the ultimate Seay wedding.

Dress #4 is older.

It's another simple black dress that I had bought for a very special occassion.

It was the dress I wore to my college graduation. It's a bit of a risque dress now that I think about it.. it had a plunge neckline and showed a great deal of cleavage. I didn't mind at the time because:

1) I was being covered my a huge graduation gown

2) I had a great rack then!

But it's one of those dresses that I had to move on from... both because of not fitting it and not knowing when I would be able to "show off the ladies" like that ever again in my late 20's. ew.

Dress #5... the one that brought me to tears.

In my final photo with John ever taken I am wearing this dress. We were on our way to an event for the Orlando Philharmonic... 

I remember how excited I was to go to this event. How i got to show off my new accessory... MY ENGAGEMENT RING! How we got to be introduced as each other's fiance. I remember so much that night. I remember the excitement of being dressed up and going to a formal event. It was like we truly felt like we fit in for a change. We both felt so mature... the evening felt very right. The wine was endless and the food was fantastic. I remember sneaking in to grab a dessert before everyone and how John laughed about it... and how we almost kept falling into this pond with stones for steps. I remember walking in the back garden and holding hands. I remember this night.... and so does that dress.

The last dress I knew I would never wear again.

I am leaving out the picture although I have posted one before.

It was the dress I wore to John's funeral.

It was picked out for me by my friends. 

The time in my life where people made decisions for me because I honestly couldn't take care of myself nor did I care to.

But i knew this dress would have to be special. Because it was the last thing I would wear "for John." It was black and lacey. And honestly I felt like it was made for a funeral. I can't imagine ever trying to wear it again. It would be almost morbid.

So, I am glad to see it go.

But, so sad that I had to wear it for such an occassion. 

It's hard to imagine i let it sit there in my closet and haunt me. And when I touched it I am touching a moment in time where my life had gone to complete black... as black as the color of this dress itself.

Leaving these dresses at the consignment shop may be something I regret later.

Ok, I regretted it as soon as I drove away.

And it sounds like I am giving up...

like I know I will never be that size again or that I am letting go of memories. 

But, I'm not to both.

I am determined to lose weight and fit into those sizes again. I just think it's fitting in my life to get new dresses for new memories. And I could never let go of these amazing memories... that each dress carried with them. Perhaps the person that buys these dresses will have some amazing memories in them too. I pray no one has to wear one to a funeral. 

I just kind of had this urge.

This feeling inside.

To make some extra room in my closet.

to match the extra room i am making in my heart.

the broken tea pot.

Last night I was sitting on the couch and Ryan was making dinner in the kitchen. I love when he makes dinner. It doesn't happen often and so it's a real treat when I don't have to cook. As much as I love cooking it's nice to let my mind just take a break. It's the planning of meals that gets to me more than it is the cooking of them.

So... I am watching tv, painting my toe nails, checking my email... when I hear some commotion in the kitchen.

Ryan has been in there cleaning for quite a bit...

and then I see him. working frantically and tears in his eyes. 

I ask him what's wrong and he tells me he broke the lid to my teapot.

Most men wouldn't be this upset about a teapot lid. Or expect someone to be upset about the teapot lid.

But Ryan knew about this teapot.

It was an anniversary gift from John. For our 4th year anniversary.

And he had been in the kitchen trying to super glue it back together and finally came to a point where the pieces wouldn't fit... and confessed what happened. 

And he was torn up about it.

It touched my heart.

I felt bad for Ryan... who only means to make me happy in this life. He's sensitive to things that were once mine and John's... or even John's. 

One time he borrowed one of John's hoodies before we went out because he couldn't find one of his. He looked up and spoke outloud "thanks, John."

I was very touched when he did that.

Ryan truly respects the love I have for John. 

The love we had once together.

And the memory of John.

So, he was crushed when he broke the tea pot.

And at first I really didn't seem to beat up about it.

I mean, after losing a person ... a tea pot just isn't really that big of a deal. 

Later that night Ryan kept bringing it up and how sorry he was... and then it began to sink in more.

Slowly, with time... John's things will start to diminish.

Gifts will be broken,

Things will get lost.

Items will be replaced.

I fear eventually I will have nothing to remember him by.

Except for my blotchy memory.

Ya know, that's another shitty thing about grief.

You lost the person you love and your mind is so torn up you start to lose focus of the memories. The one thing you have left of that person and your mind won't even cooperate. You forget the things you said "I will never forget this!" Then one day something will trigger the memory and you will either cry about it in the middle of wherever you are... or, in my case, go home and blog about it so you never forget. 

The point is...  as time goes on... the thing of this world will disappear. so, I am going to do everything I can to keep a hold of what I have left of John... the amazing memories we made together. 

The photos I have of the day when I got my tea pot...

As for now... I still have a good amount of physical objects for memories sake.

Including weird things. Like his bag of dirty clothes I can't seem to wash. And his deodorant. His toothbrush... his cologne.... 

These are things I can't quite separate from right now.

I don't have a shrine or anything.. they are stored in a private place. But, i am not quite at the point yet where I can give them up. 

As for the tea pot... I think it still has a place in my kitchen... with the chipped/superglued lid. 

panacea, please

I AM SOOOO OVER FEELING LIKE CRAP.

I mean.
It's kind of my fault.

I haven't totally been following my bland, stupid diet. But I cut out a lot of stuff. I haven't had spaghetti in almost 2 months now. do you know how odd that is for me?! That I am deprived of the cheapest meal to make? Not to mention I make one mean pasta sauce... filled with lots of garlic... which is also a no-no when you have gastritis.
Coffee?
Non-existant.
:(
But luckily I have found out about the Caramel Apple Spice drink at Starbucks!!!! It's pretty much liquid crack. Order one next time you go and see for yourself. Thank goodness I bitched about coffee on my faceboook so my friend told me about it. Thanks, Lindsay. It's been helpful. but, I still miss coffee. I miss having options. I miss having the freedom.
I miss pizza.
Well, kind of.
I miss having the option to buy it when I am tired after a long day of school and I just want to throw my hands in the air and say "let's just get a pizza, damn it."

So.
I work hard all day.
And in my mind as I go through my dad I pump myself up by saying "just think, Autumn... only __ more classes until you get to go home and spend time with Ryan..."
And then today I am driving home and suddenly I feel so super dizzy I honestly consider pulling over. I make it home... it felt like an eternity to get there. Every red light was complete torture. I walk in the door and Ryan is there to greet me. And I pass him to go straight to the couch and collapse. And then the migraine/stomach aches begin. I threw up a couple times.
It's just horrible.
And i felt so bad because honestly all i want to do is spend time with ryan and he spends his time with me just taking care of me.
This is NOT what I consider quality time with each other.

I feel like I spend all my energy at school and by the end of the day I just running on fumes. That I have just enough to get to my house...and then commence the collapsing. I have just enough time to recuperate when the weekend comes... and when the week comes again I am exhausted.
Sometimes I contemplate what it would be like if i hadn't gone through the grief of john.
I am sure that this stomach issue would have never been an issue... at all.

My doctor the other day told me that what's happening is that I have not completely healed. That my body is still reacting to the grief. still dormant inside of my body. And when I stress... my body is my first warning sign... the first reactor to the tension. So, i am supposed to "relax" and "calm down." (um, band directors can do that????) she also told me i need to stop making doctor appts (and appointments for biopsies and ultrasounds). ... because that's also adding stress.
then she handed me a card for a counselor. it's still in my purse. i have it on my "to do list"
"call counselor"
i have been meaning to.
i am not avoiding it... i just dread the cost...and the time... and the re-hashing... exposing my tragedy again... making it fresh to someone new....


i have more things to work out.
for the sake of my body... which is yanking on my sleeve saying "we're not quite done yet..."

All Dogs Go to Heaven

yesterday was a tough day. for me and Ryan.

When I walked to work yesterday I arrived early so I could spend a but of time with Ryan since I get out at midnight.

and I had a big sense of guilt.

because Ryan had to put down his beloved dog of 12 years, Tippy. And I wasn't there for him. Like he has been there for me ALL the time.

she was scheduled for her procedure at 4pm. Right when work starts for me.

Ryan and I met at CityWalk around 2:30 (even though he was supposed to get out at 2... figures) we didn't have much time together though because Ryan had to leave to meet his mom at the vet.

It was so heart breaking to see him so heart broken.

when he left i knew i wouldn't be able to stop thinking about him.

and if you know the kind of person I am... once something starts tapping on my brain I can't focus on anything else. but i tried... and i went into work.. and decided to kick back in the theater until it was time to clock in. But then my phone rang. It was my test results for my thyroid bloodwork and ultrasound. i had just gotten a call from my GI doc about this and they scheduled a follow up appt. so I was confused why my primary care physician was also calling. and apparently so were they.

but i figured since I had a second chance to get information I would squeeze it out of them.

the lady told me that my blood results were normal and everything was where it needed to be. but then she said there was a nodule on my thyroid.

and that was that.

You just can't tell a girl with high anxiety and an already troubled heart that she has some thyroid nodule and not explain anything.

So... the water works began.

The panic of not knowing what is going on with my body and the guilt of not being with my boyfriend during a hard time.

When I went and spoke with my supervisor about it he mentioned there were too many people at work and I could go.

yes, please.

I mean, it was embarassing enough that I was crying wherever I went. I couldn't imagine being able to actually assist guests and function.

so. i left.

and i hauled ass to make it over to Oveido where Ryan was with Tippy and his mom.

as i parked my car i felt extreme anxiety.

to be around death.

even if it's an animal.

an animal that i barely knew.

it's still death and it still gets to me.

I walked into the vet room just right after Tippy passed. Ryan and his mom were in tears.

and so was I.

it was so hard to see Tippy on the table lifeless and even harder to look at ryan's face.

He just lost a family member.

And as I have said before.... a loss... is a loss.

Human or pet.

When you lose a piece of your family it's a hard void to fill.

I remember when Karen and Bobby had to put down Zion. It was such a hard time in our family and it wasn't long after John died. If you re-read that entry you can see the sweet ways the girls remembered him... and I tried to use those same sweet things when reminding Ryan where Tippy's new place is.

With someone in heaven that needs a pet. With his grandmother, with my John...

Because in my heart I want to believe that animals will be in heaven with us. Why wouldn't they?

Because in my big mansion in heaven one day I am going to have lots of great danes... lots of birds (including peacocks and owls) and lots of malteses :)

R.I.P. Tipper

Dreams, Dates, and Men that are Blue

For once it isn't me having the strange dreams.

In fact, for the girl who always has had such VIVID dreams... and dreams that I can actually go back and recall in great detail.... I haven't been dreaming that much lately.

I take that back.

I have been forgetting my dreams.

Last week Ryan asked me "so, did you have any wild dreams last night." I immediately started to think that maybe I was doing some weird moaning or flailing about in my sleep. "No... why?"

Ryan looked surprised.

Like my answer was unexpected.

He then went on to tell me he has been having reoccurring dreams where John is there... and me... and Ryan... and I have to choose between them.

of course any man dating a widow will have the occasional "dead guy jealousy." it's weird. they aren't even a threat at all anymore... yet my affections towards John will never go away. So, i guess these dreams would be considered normal?

As Ryan explained to me the dreams he literally started to tear up.

He said that John never spoke to him... but he could tell that he didn't like Ryan for trying to take me from him.

(Ryan never has really had conversations with John so it makes sense he doesn't hear his voice in the dreams).

Ryan says that he wakes up feeling horrible.

he is terrified of losing me.

LOSING ME.

Oh no. now we are both afraid of losing each other.

Ryan has had dreams were he has lost me before. but never to john. my deceased fiance.

I of course state the obvious.

that john isn't coming back.

and i do not have to choose.

thank GOD.

can you imagine???

no.

i don't want to.

it's hard enough loving a man on earth and a man in heaven.

my heart has been pulled on enough.

to choose between them would be tragedy at it's finest.

Ryan just cares so much about my happiness.

he once told me he wished John were here... and that he would gladly give me up to John if it would make me happy.

it was a little chilling to hear that.

because it's so sacrificial.

but now that i have ryan in my life... i don't think i can imagine him not in it.

just as i once couldn't imagine my life without john.

So, moving forward.... Saturday night.

I have a new job. yay. well... i mean i transfered to a new position at universal.

part time.

8 dollars an hour. i am really moving up in the world.

i am now going to be working at blue man group.

as an usher.

so, my new supervisor asks me to come out and see the show...which i have. a million times. but i figured it would make for a great date night with Ryan. of course!

everything started out so great!

we got to city walk and had sushi and i introduced Ryan to his first sake bomb!

see:

it was a lot of fun!

and as we got to blue man we met up with Bryan, my supervisor, and he was really nice and all was well.

before the show started the BMG do some nonsense stuff with the audience where they point out certain individuals and do clever things like "this person won a gold medal in curling..." etc. etc.

then they pointed out a couple and asked them to stand up.

the couple was sitting right next to us.

and then i see the dad from the row behind slip a red box secretly into the guy's hand.

OH NO.

Then you know the next steps.

he gets on a knee.

he asks a question.

she puts her hands over her face in shock.

she says yes.

she hugs and kisses him.

there is mass applause.

it's your every day proposal.

at blue man group.

well.

i wasn't quite prepared for that.

and i left.

rather quickly actually... and i didn't know where i was headed... but i knew there was no holding back.

i left Ryan at the seats. baffled i am sure.

because when i had looked at him he was applauding with everyone else and had a huge smile on his face.

i guess that's what i should have been doing.

i guess i should have been happy for them.

but i ran away.

behind the seating area.

and i cried.

at first just wiping away streaming tears.

then loud little sighs and moans.

loud crying. oh yes, the loud crying.

it wasn't my loudest... but it was loud enough to be noticed... by another usher and best of all: my supervisor.

he was really nice about it. he went in the back and got a whole BOX of tissues and said I could keep the box. i passed on the box. i grabbed like 5 or 6 though.

ya see, he already knew about everything because i mentioned it during my interview.

and i wasn't even playing my widow card.

i was just trying to explain the change in my life to explain why i needed to switch roles at universal. sometimes i feel like it's a puzzle piece that should be shared so people can understand the decisions that i make. i mean, do i really need to pull my widow card for an hourly job anyway?

so now i am embarrassed.

i haven't even started the job yet and my supervisor has already tried to comfort me during a meltdown/sob session.

he starts to apologize.

"i didn't think about where they were sitting...we were just told today... i would have had you come another night..."

he's blaming himself?!

for my lack of happiness for others and inability to cope?

i returned to my seat a few minutes later.

and i was pretty apathetic for the rest of the show and night.

i was unmoved and unpleasant.

and as we walked to the parking garage ryan scolded me on ruining the night over strangers.

and then i pulled the "you don't know what it's like" card.

but inside i felt guilty.

ryan was right... for the most part.

i let others... strangers... and their happiness... their own happy day... take away MY happy day with someone who loves me very much.

and grief does that.

it's a thief of happy moments.

because it takes other's situations and makes them personal.

and now that I got my first proposal since John's death out of the way... I will be better next time around.

Nov 10, 2000

I have been meaning to write this entry for a few days now... but have not been given the chance. It is a story of my past that some people may know already but also one that many are not aware of.
John's death was not my first experience with death.
It was the MOST traumatic event of my life... but not the only.

And every year I remember the day November 10. It's been implanted into my memory as I am sure April 22 will now be for the rest of my life. I really thought no day could ever be as bad as that day has been. I knew that would be the worst I would have to experience. I wasn't prepared to lose John. I wasn't prepared to lose Dennis either... or... Mr. Kusy.
This year marked 10 years since he died in a car accident in Lake Wales...around 7pm.
That day is still very fresh and vivid in my mind. Not to mention I have that afternoon on videotape... his last hours of life captured in red, blue, green.

It was a regular day of school on a Friday.
I was in theory class with my director and mentioned the fact that I had never been taught how to drive stick shift... did I mention I barely knew how to drive anyway??? He then had the idea to teach me after school. Yes, this is a big no-no for teachers... but it was 10 years ago and it was Polk county. Things are a bit different. Sort of. Did I mention I had a huge crush on him? Oh yes... he was a handsome man. He was 24 when he passed. He was weeks away from his 25th birthday. When I decided to take on the path of being a band director and go to the same college as Dennis I was a little nervous about the age 24... like it would curse me. But alas, I am 26. I out lived him. And I outlived my John.
That afternoon when I went out driving with him I was joined by my two very good friends at the time.. Danielle and Zack. Before the driving lesson we had to take video of a swimming competition Dennis was doing with another teacher at the school (Stanchu... who taught math). They did a friendly rivalry competition thing every other week for our school news. I held the camera and filmed those moments. Moments of laughter and fancy free. I was behind the camera... laughing the whole time. When we dropped off the other teacher at school Dennis said something that we would remember forever... "see you over the rainbow..."
Why did he choose to say that at that moment? I don't know.
But the song "Somewhere over the rainbow" has been a tear jerker for me ever since.
Then it was time for driving lessons.
Both Danielle and I got a try at it. We drove all around the small town... grinding gears and all. It wasn't so impressive. I remember at one point I had driven off the road. It was scary. And dangerous. I remember how nervous I was when he had put his hand over mine on the shifter... and when he touched my leg to tell me to push the clutch. I was 16 years old. I was a girl. These things happen.
He dropped us off back at the school afterwards. I remember him smiling at me and his last words were "practice for All County" I am sure there was a goodbye after that but that's what stuck in my head.
Always a band director.
When I got a confusing phone call at 7pm from a friend I didn't know what was going on. No one was really positive of what happened. All I knew was there was an accident and someone said he may have died. It just couldn't be. I had just seen him a couple hours before. I remember calling his house and leaving messages on his answering machine. I remember saying "people are spreading this rumor...so you should call me so I can tell you about it... " I remember the panic. And then I called around until I had enough people telling me he had died. Then I looked at my dad with horror and screamed "we have to go." My dad didn't hesitate. He was crying right along with me... and we went to the place where the accident had been. By the time we got there everything was cleaned up and there was no trace of it. Then my dad called his friend at a impound place... and sure enough his car had been taken there. When we pulled up I ran to his car... mangled and twisted on his side. I grabbed a magnet from the back and went to open the drivers side to climb in. I had no idea why I had chosen to do so. Panic and pain make you do silly things. There was blood in the seat and some plaques in the passenger seat. I was pulled away from the car screaming.
My dad took me home and I stayed up all night crying and holding his picture.
That was my first real punch in the face from life.
The months following are a blur. I was given some of his possessions. I was allowed to leave class if I needed to. I would always go to his office and lay on his couch and cry.
Eventually...life went on. I continued with school... I graduated... I continued to remember him... and still do to this very day.
I have dreams with him still. I have even had a dream where both Dennis and John were in it. SO WEIRD.


I really envy people who go through life without having to experience a close death. How can people be so lucky to avoid it? Maybe there are those that choose to not have many close to them in order not to experience the pain. I have thought about it... but the thought of not loving anyone is completely unbearable. I need love. It's how I survive. But how nice would it be to not have to deal with it... death, mourning, pain and grief. And that's why people may avoid me... so they don't have to deal with it either. I guess I get it. But at the same time I don't. How can you possibly just ignore it? How can you act like I am ok? How can you appreciate me just faking through days.


Lately I suck at faking... apparently. I have had more comments than ever of people asking me "is there something wrong?" "what happened to you?" "are you having a bad day." A stranger today in the vet's office said to me "it really looks like you are having a hard time right now.." At this point I broke out in tears. He felt so awkward. This man... with cut marks all over his arms. Saying MY life was hard. One of my students even came up to me Friday and said "Ms. Hassell... you look depressed." Wow. My psychiatrist even noticed that something was wrong with me. Although I denied it. Because what do I say?? The answer is always the same. There is no magical new answer. It's always John.
Ok, that's a lie.
Layers are being added daily. Things are getting complicated.
As time goes on I find myself constantly discovering myself. The good things about myself and the bad.
I am human. And this is becoming more and more apparent each day.
And I am discovering that I am just as weak as I am strong. If that makes sense. John can't fill in my gaps anymore. He can't cover my flaws. And I can't put my energy into helping his either.
I am discovering the true meaning of friendship.
I am slowly drifting from people...
and I am finding new people to add into my life... when I need them most. Almost as if God pointed them in my direction.
I HATE losing people.
But it's happening. As much as I try to prevent it... it's not always a choice for me to make. And for someone who likes to be in control and have things fixed right away... I am not doing so well with this part.
I want to make everyone happy.
But I have to focus on myself right now.
Or else I will lose myself.


I am discovering how special my love was with John.
How one of a kind it was... and how I may never be able to find THAT love again.


John's quilt project has hit a wall. I have not gotten any donations lately. And I am getting nervous. I don't have much time left. I was hoping to put in my order by the 20th.... and that's 5 days away. So please... if you can help.. PLEASE let me know. I really want to make these by Christmas time!!! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

7

Scientists say there are seven stages of grief. Although they may follow a particular pattern...most will not. I am in that category. I am not following the process exactly. I have tendencies to jump from one extreme to the other.
Here is how I classify myself in each stage:

1) Shock and Denial: the first few weeks I found myself completely shocked about John's death. Mainly because it wasn't expected. And I found him. And I saw him dead. Shocked is putting it lighly. Traumatized is closer to what it is. I find myself in and out of the denial stage each and every day. There are plenty of days I wake up hoping that it was all a dream and John would be by my side. There have been many of times I have picked up the phone to call John or text him. And I still have a hard time keeping John alive in conservation. "Oh John likes that..." instead of "John liked that." "John wants to see that.... " instead of "John wanted to see that." So, the shock of it all has begun to wind down. But denial still sneaks up on me.. :(

2) Pain and Guilt: As shock wears off.... it is replaced with suffering and unbearable pain. I feel like the pain part of this step will last for awhile. This is the part of grief that has me walking around with a constant lump in my throat. A time bomb, really. That anything could set me off at any second and then it's tears city. Sometimes I feel like I have been punched in the stomach. I am left breathless and pain lingers in my body everyday. I don't have so much guilt. There was nothing I could do for John. Especially since John didn't act THAT sick... just flu/cold like symptoms. But our evenings were normal. I couldn't have saved John. As much as itdissapoints me that I couldn't. Instead of guilt I am filled massive ammounts of regret. Of what future we were supposed to have together and where John wanted to be in his job and his life and ideas he had.

3) Anger and Bargaining: Anger, yes. Bargaining, not so much. I have nothing to Bargain with. With God especially. I know I can't bring him back. I have a strong grip on reality that's for sure. But yes, Anger is there. In fact, I wish I could let my anger out more. I have a tendency to bottle up emotion throughout the day and then once in awhile let go ... mostly at the wrong time. I get frustrated at others and their "wonderful" "perfect" lives. I get angry when people get engaged, married, have babies, get pregnant, go out on dates, etc. That's what I put my anger towards. I am angry I don't get that anymore with John. I am angry there are people that take their lives for granted and are still here. And that Jhn isn't. Reason enough to be pissed I think.

4)Depression/Reflection/Lonliness- I walk this stage daily and this may be the longest part of my journey yet. Many will try to talk me out of my pain. Encouragement isn't always so helpful. Even though sometimes I can be in a room completely filled with people...I feel completely ALONE. alone. and people want to talk to me. with empty conversations. this is the part that makes me want to sleep in until 1pm and stay in my pajamas all day. and do nothing. Nothing at all.

5) The Upward Turn- doubt I'll be seeing this step soon

6) Reconstruction and Working Through- I have gradually started thisprocess.I am becoming a bitmore organizd. i am going through bills. i found a place to live with andrea andkelly. i can go through john's things... and cry... as I put them where they belong. This is what I call my "baby steps" step.

7) Acceptance and Hope- looking forward to the day I can face this step....

Am I a Widow?

I woke up this morning upset.

I had a dream about John. It was so fresh for 5 minutes.... then it faded away. I know it was a happy one. I know that it was about something good.

But I think my medication doesn't allow me to have the vivid dreams that I once had. The dreams that John was jealous of. He was OBSESSED with dreams. He always wanted to know about them and share the ones that he could remember. One of the first gifts I ever gave him was a dream journal. He wrote two entries and that was it. One day I will come upon it. And it will make me cry... just like everything else that I find.

So... I sat in bed mopey today. I eventually forced myself to go downstairs and make breakfast. Raheann's mother-in-law wanted to help me out but really I was only in the mood to be with my own thoughts. I didn't want to be bothered by people trying to help. I know how awful that sounds but sometimes I feel like a 5 year old saying "no, mommy. i can do it."

While I was eating breakfast I read some blogs from some friends of mine... and also from a girl I have to yet to met yet... named Starr. She has a blog about being a widow and it helps a lot to read it. She is about a year and a half ahead of me in this process. And it helps peek into a future of what may come of this. On her side tab she has links to other widow and widower blogs.

I clicked on them. Most of these people have children. Or they were married.

I wanted to find someone in my situation. That lost a fiance.... but when I went to the search bar I didn't know what to type in. WHAT AM I?!

I think I consider myself a widow.

I mean John and I were together for 5 and a half years. We were engaged and he made a promise to be with me forever. The only thing missing was the paperwork. I def. don't consider myself a girlfriend.

Am I a widow?

How can I find someone like me?

Luckily I have Andi.

She lost her husband of 6 months.

exactly 1 month before i lost John.

she found me.

God placed us together.

And we talk daily.

We walk the widow road together on the same path.

we even take our ambien together the same time at night and text each other "goodnight."

And I have Nicolle. Who can TOTALLY relate to my situation. Although she has had over a year of grieving done with the death of her husband. He too died from heart failure. So, I feel the connection we have is very near and dear to me. She gets me. I get her. Sometimes though I get nervous that I am bringing everything back up again for her. So, I am cautious with how I approach her and our discussions. Although when John died.... I immediately wanted to get in contact with her. And I did. And it was a great decision and she helped a lot.

I also started tapping into all these widow websites... widow camps... widow forums...

there is a lot of people out there going through what I am. Although we all have different ways we got there. No one that I know has the story that I have.

I think my story is one in a million.

I am interested in seeing if there is someone out there that lost their loved one to myocarditis. I think that would be extremely helpful.

No one likes to feel alone.

And this is NOT a club I ever wanted to be part of. Especially freshly engaged and at the age of 26. It is miserable. And the worst part is the friends and family around you that love and comfort you cannot even relate a single bit. And they feel bad. And that makes me feel bad. They won't get it unless it happens to them. And I would never want it to. Ever.