I still look for you in a crowded room, in church or driving down the street
I still see your face in my dreams, in mind and in my heart
I still forget you are in heaven, my heart still misses a beat
I still remember things I need to tell you, then remember you're gone
I still look at our children and see you in their eyes
I still listen to them and hear your sayings and your laughter
I still remember how you stole my heart,how I stole yours right back, and you saying "I told you so"
I still turn to find you to comfort me, to hold me when I cry
I still know what it feels like to have your love, to have you in my life
I still say "I love you" when I think of you, which is almost always
I still and will always "Remember When"
Well it has come to my attention that the holidays have arrived. I know, I know many of you are thinking Thanksgiving is long past. I know I'm late, okay!
This is my third holiday season since losing Mel. I don't know what it is about the holidays, but they certainly bring grief to the surface. Here are some holiday survival tips that I hope will encourage those of you who are grieving and will enlighten those of you who feel you are sitting by helplessly watching someone you love grieve.
1. You may find it easier to start new holiday traditions, rather than continue the traditions you shared with the loved one(s) you have lost. This is okay. It does NOT mean you do NOT remember. It means it is too painful for you to relive some of the things you did in your pre-grieving state.
2. There also may be some tranditions you feel the need to continue. We still hang Mel's stocking with ours. It makes us feel like a family.
3. If you are invited to a party, talk with the hostess and set up an escape plan in case you find you can't stay once you get it together enough to show up. Explain to him/her that it may simply be too difficult for you to engage in the festivities.
4. Have "life-lines" in place. We all have our "go-to" people. Let them know when you are having a hard time emotionally and what they can do to help. They don't know if you don't tell them.
5. This is an exhausting time of year when you are at your best. Take care of yourself. Rest when you need to, slow down during the day, have a cup of tea or a soda and relax. If you need to sleep, sleep.
6. Spend time with the Lord. Nothing renews the spirit and the heart like spending time reading His word or spending time in prayer.
For those of you who want to help but don't know what to do, here are some suggestions for you:
1. This is a good time to just be a good listener. Those of us who are grieving know that there are no answers on this earth to explain our loss. We really just need someone who will listen and accept what we are feeling even if you don't understand it. People who are grieving need the freedom to grieve in their own way and in their own time. God made each of us unique, and so each of us goes through this process differently than anybody else. There is no time table for grief.
2. Don't hesitate to invite us "grievers" to join in the holiday festivities, but DO let us set the limits on what we can or cannot handle. We may be able to come to a party or dinner and only stay half an hour. Please be understanding.
3. If we don't manage to make it to social events, invite us out for a cup of coffee, an ice cream, or whatever it is we usually do together. Sometimes being in a crowd is too uncomfortable for us, and we do better one-on-one with people we love.
4. If death has caused someone to be a single parent, offer to take his/her children for an hour, an afternoon, whatever you are able to commit to. This gives mom/dad time to shop for gifts, wraps gifts and maybe have a little bit of alone time. It is exhausting being a single parent.
5. Remember not everyone is surrounded by large, loving family at holidays. If you see someone, whether they are grieving or not, who is going to be alone during the holidays, by all means invite them to join you and your family. This is a great opportunity to witness to others, to build new friendships and to really reach out in a positive way.
6. If you see a need, offer to fill it. Sometimes it is too hard for people to ask for help with everything they suddenly find themselves needing help with.
I would just like to take the time now to thank everyone of you who have reached out to me and my kids and have helped make this walk through the "wilderness of grief" at least bearable. I would also like to say that the people you love who are grieving are not ever going to be "the same" as they were before they grieved the loss of someone very important to them. Grief changes us. That isn't necessarily a bad thing. If we are allowed to grieve in our own way, in our own time I truly believe that God can and does make us better, but we will also be different. That doesn't mean the "new us" doesn't need you. We just need you to let us become and be who God intends for us to be when we walk out of the valley of the shadow of death.
Merry Christmas and remember Jesus really is THE reason for the season.
Today is a cold fall day. The changing of the seasons, the cycle of life moving through its changes. Time passes like it always has and always will until it is no more. I still long for the rapture and life on the New Earth that God has promised His believers.
I used to be so afraid of changes, or rather changing anything from the way it was when Mel was alive, but I now have purple highlighted hair, and I love it. I have also lost about 50 pounds since moving home. So changing, I am. I used to feel like I couldn't change anything or it would be a betrayal of Mel's memory or that I was moving on, leaving him in my past. Of course I have to move on, like it or not, and I know Mel would want me to, but I know that Mel will always be a huge part of my life. I don't have to lose that just because I lost him. My life has been forever changed, but I am learning to adjust to those changes. I know now that there are questions that I have that will probably never get answered until I meet Jesus. Probably then it won't matter anyway, for the bible says the things of this life will pass away. I still have to admit that the first person I want to see in heaven is Mel, so I hope Jesus lets him stand right next to Him so I can see them both at the same time. I can now see that as much as I love Mel, God loves him even more, but God loves me that much too. I no longer see Mel's moving to heaven as a punishment upon me from God. Most of the time I can see what a blessing it was for Mel, but my earthly selfishness still wishes he was with our family. I will never not miss him, and that's okay. He was the most important person in my life.
The past few weeks have been especially happy for me. I feel God's presence in my life again and hear Him answering my prayers. My life is so much "lighter" now, not so filled with pervasive darkness. My kids help keep me grounded, and they certainly make me laugh. They are growing up so fast. Mel would be so proud of them. They are both so smart and funny. They both have a lot of Mel in them. Their sense of humor, their compassion and love for others and their tender hearts.
I am getting ready to start leading GriefShare, and I am so excited that God has called me to this ministry. I feel like if I can help other hurting people, then Mel's death will have meant something good. I pray that God gives me the wisdom and the knowledge that I am going to need to lead this group. I can't wait to meet the new people He will be bringing into my life. I know that some of them will be lifelong friends, and that I will probably never forget any of them or their stories. I do know that a miracle of healing can take place in a room full of hurting people. Maybe someone will be led to give their life to Christ during the 13 weeks that we meet and pray together.
My life is good. I still get lonely for the intimate companionship that I had with Mel. I miss his gentleness, his kindness, his teasing, his laughter and his love. I miss looking in his eyes and seeing his love for me reflected in them, but I know now that I am going to live without him right here. The only way to heal from loss is to walk right through the crashing, dark waves of grief that come wave after wave after wave and at times seem unrelenting. I know that dark days do turn into days of light, that tears can turn to laughter. I also know that the crashing waves of grief can still strike at any time and usually without warning. I know that I will always have days that are dark with grief and missing Mel and longing for him, but now I know that they don't last forever, the light will shine again and I will be happy again. I still wish I was part of a "couple", that is the hardest part of my path to accept, that I am not married. It still just takes my breath away that one minute I was a wife, and then with the exhaling of Mel's last breath I became a widow. I still hate that word. I prefer husbandless wife, but there is no check box for that on any form I have to fill out.
So I am moving on, be it ever so slowly at times. I look forward to doing new things. I know that it is a miracle that God has brought me to this day, or maybe it's more of a miracle that I let Him get me here. Either way I am grateful for where my life is right now and the fact that I know it will keep getting better. Maybe I am finding my "new normal" after all. I don't hate it as much as I used to. I am learning to accept that even this part of my life was God's will and that He knew about before I was even born, so I'm thinking He might actually know what He's doing. However, I would still like a neon sign on my front lawn telling me what He is doing and why, I hating waiting to see how it's going to play out, but I know there is a plan and a purpose.
Love and thankfulness to all of you who have walked beside me, every step of the way, part of the way or in any way. All of you have played a part in my healing. Thanks to God for bringing each one of you to me exactly when I needed you.
Three years ago today we received the news we had feared the most. We found out that Mel had kidney cancer, a very rare form of it, and it was already stage IV. I guess I've come a long way since that day. I've come from being curled up in a ball, on a cold hard linoleum floor in the doctor's office, sobbing into my cell phone telling my sister the news. At least now I am upright at my computer and not lying on a filthy bathroom floor.
I remember being scared to death. I remember telling Mel that our lives would never be the same again. I'm still scared, and our lives have changed. Mel lives in heaven now, and now I am a single mother and a widow. I remember the look on Nicole's precious face when we told her how sick her daddy was, and I also remember the look of amazement and utter shock on her face just a day and a half before the end of Mel's life on earth when she said "Mommy maybe this is the way God is going to heal daddy, by taking him to heaven with him". I remember being happy that she could look at it that way, when all I could do was scream inside my head "don't you dare take him from me God".
I remember a few days after Mel's memorial service and Daniel stamping his little baby foot and yelling at me "I don't care where my daddy is, I want him back right now". One of my fears was that Daniel would never remember his daddy. The other day we were driving down the road, and Daniel started yelling "mommy, mommy turn here. I remember going to that place with Daddy, and we had so much fun". It was Burger King, but Praise God Daniel remembered.
I remember how scary it was taking care of Mel, especially as his cancer advanced. I remember setting my alarm to go off every two hours 24/7 to give him pain medication so he wouldn't be in needless pain. I remember stopping at a store on our way to the hospital in Denver to get plastic bags for him to vomit in. The man gave me a whole rack full so we would always have them in the car. I remember having to take care of Daniel, and Nicole would have to step in and help Mel. I can still see her holding a bucket for him to vomit in, and she would have her head turned the other way having dry heaves. We both learned how easy it is to do the terribly hard things you have to do to care for someone you love so much. A day never ended that Mel didn't tell us how much he loved us and thanked us for taking care of him. He was so humble and full of grace even then. I remember it made me love him more than I ever had.
I remember the surgeon telling us what a success his surgery was, and that she was sure she had gotten the cancer, only to learn six weeks later that wasn't the case. In fact the cancer had been found in other areas and organs of his body. I remember the betrayal I felt, and I was so angry at that surgeon for telling us what she had. I wrote her a letter about a year after Mel died expressing this to her. To my surprise she answered me back and apologized for having hurt me like that, and that she was going to reevaluate the way she presented news to patients and their families. I felt validated. She is, in fact, a very skillful and extremely competent surgeon.
I remember Daniel napping with Mel every day. It was so precious for me to watch the two of them resting together so peacefully and Daniel feeling so loved by his daddy. Then they would play trucks, sometimes in bed if Mel was too sick or weak to get up.
I remember Mel's son (my stepson) Aaron coming and sitting with Mel every evening before he went to work. I felt safe with Aaron there with me. This was the last week of Mel's life, and I was so frightened every day seeing Mel decline further. When Aaron went to work my friend Deanna came to be with me. Now I have such a love and devotion to Aaron and his wife Tina and our precious granddaughters, Megan and Peyton, and my love for Deanna has grown too.
I remember feeling like I would never smile or laugh again. I remember feeling like I lived in a black cloud. I remember feeling so hopeless, so helpless, but having all the faith in the world that God would heal Mel. Now I can see that God did heal Mel, and He is still healing me. And guess what I can laugh now, sometimes until I cry.
So three years later, I can start to see the little and big miracles that have happened since July 22, 2009. I am blessed to be a mother to Nicole and Daniel, and I am so blessed to have been loved by my Mel. There was never a time in our 14 years together that I didn't know that he loved me and treasured me and all that we had together. Some people never have that at all, so I try to be really thankful that I was lucky enough to have it all.
Nicole was almost 11 and Daniel nearly 3 when we lost Mel. This year Nicole will be a freshman at Swallows Charter Academy, and Daniel will be in kindergarten at PSAS. Such changes in their lives. I still think it's unfair they have to grow up without their daddy. They have grown so much. I don't know what I will do with all the time I'm going to have free while they are gone.
My church has asked me to work with another lady in leading a GriefShare group. I have attended this 12 week group twice. I feel honored that other people think I can be a help to others who are grieving. I had been praying for God to show me a way to help others to go through what I've gone through. As the old childhood taunt says "it takes one to know one". I really feel like in helping others something good can come out of losing Mel, and I know he would be proud of me.
Thank you God for all Your blessings and for loving me even when I held hatred in my heart towards You. I love you Father for taking care of me and showing me every day that You are there for my little family, and because of You I will see my precious Mel again. What a gift, what a God!!
I have been thinking a lot lately about betrayal. Since Mel's death I have felt so betrayed by God that it is hard for me to trust Him. For a while there I couldn't even pray I was so angry and distrustful of God.
Betrayal seems to me to be one of the hardest things to experience, because in order to feel betrayal you have to have loved someone, cared about someone, trusted someone and/or believed that these people you cared about would care about you FOREVER. I've also been betrayed by many people who I thought would support me when Mel died. In all honesty I have to say that people don't really know what to do or say when someone so significant in your life dies. Most people have lost somebody they love to death, but I have learned over and over in the last two years, there is no loss like losing a spouse, not even losing a child. When you are married and go through losses, you have your spouse for support and to lean on when you need someone so badly you think you might die. But when your spouse dies, there is no other person in the world who knows you the way your spouse did. Mel knew me inside and out, he knew how to comfort me, he knew to just hold me and let me cry. He knew he didn't have to "fix" everything that I mostly just needed "him".
I have learned the only FOREVER is the everlasting, blood-saving gift of life from Jesus Christ. That is the only thing I know is forever, and I know that I want to be there.
I have been TRYING to learn that God didn't really betray me when he took Mel home. He Blessed Mel with the greatest gift of all, the gift we Christians just celebrated on Easter. I just didn't want him to bless Mel that way, I wanted him to bless Mel the way I wanted Mel to be blessed. I wanted God to cure Mel's cancer and bless him with many more years on this earth with me. I used to pray that if God was going to take Mel from me that the rapture would occur at the same time so all four of us could go to Heaven together. Again, my idea not God's.
I've also been betrayed by many people who I thought would support me when Mel died. In all honesty I have to say that people don't really know what to do or say when someone so significant in your life dies. Most people have lost somebody they love to death, but I have learned over and over in the last two years, there is no loss like losing a spouse, not even losing a child. When you are married and go through losses, you have your spouse for support and to lean on when you need someone so badly you think you might die. But when your spouse dies, there is no other person in the world who knows you the way your spouse did. Mel knew me inside and out, he knew how to comfort me, he knew to just hold me and let me cry. He knew he didn't have to "fix" everything that I mostly just needed "him".
I have had to learn that some people are not meant to be in your life forever. Some are there for just a season of your life, and then they leave. Sometimes you know why, and other times you just can't understand why. The best part though is that God does put really, really special people in our lives forever, and they are family. I'm not talking blood sharing, DNA connected family, I am talking about people who just really "get you" and you "get them", and you love each other through everything and anything. I am blessed by really good "family".
Today while I was writing this entry I got a phone call from one of my main "sisters" Deanna. She was calling to say a very special person had passed out of this life into eternal life. He was my family, his wife is my family and his kids are my family too. He was my pastor for many, many years. He married Mel and I, he did Nicole's baby dedication, he did the funeral services for Mel's parents', he was there for Mel and I to renew our vows on our 10th anniversary. It was just Pastor Hal, his precious wife Sharon, Mel and me and Nicole. It was so special, and Mel had planned it as a surprise. He did Daniel's baby dedication, he was preaching his last sermon when Mel passed away, and the last service he performed as a pastor was Mel's memorial service. I saw Sharon a while ago, and I see how I must have looked a little over two years ago. I only hope I can be a good enough "family" for her to go through these horrible times. Lost is the only word to describe the look on the face of a spouse whose spouse has just passed away. Thank God Hal is in His presence, and if I know my Mel he is talking Hal's ears off, and that makes me smile. It also makes me smile to know that one day I will see Mel and Hal again.
During Holy Week I watched various shows about the crucifixion and the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Man you want to talk betrayal, talk to Jesus. Even though his whole purpose was to be born of a virgin, live life as a human man and give his life FOR US, I cannot begin to imagine the betrayal he must have felt from pretty much the whole human race. His own friends (family, disciples) denied him and betrayed him for a few coins, then he was beaten beyond recognition, forced to carry his own cross to his own death, he was nailed to the cross, stabbed in the abdomen and left hanging there to die.
So to me the biggest betrayal of all is denying the One who was betrayed for us. Jesus Christ suffered so much and was BETRAYED beyond measure for ME, for YOU, and for ANY ONE who chooses Him. I am so glad Mel chose Him, I am so glad I have chosen Him, and all the others who have gone before me who have chosen Him. Because this is the only way BETRAYAL will ever win the biggest prize of all. Yes BETRAYAL wins because without betrayal there is no resurrection and no choice to be made to live or die for Jesus Christ. One day BETRAYAL will no longer exist because Jesus Christ, the King of Kings sits on the throne and the final judgment will be passed. Don't make the mistake of being one of those left behind on that day. Choose Jesus Christ today for your life and your salvation, and kick betrayal in the proverbial butt.
So we have been back home in Pueblo a month now. When we packed up our stuff in Washington, I was just more interested in getting everything packed, rather than going through everything and getting rid of things I didn't really need or want. So now I am faced with that monumental task as I unpack.
The boxes appear to be bunnies, meaning that they seem to reproduce while I work or sleep. Every time I get one room cleared of boxes, then there are more to go through so I take them to the box-free room so I have more room to go through them. At last count today I have approximately 12-15 more boxes upstairs to go through, then sometime (okay probably never) need to go through the boxes in the basement.
The thing about going through these boxes, is that I am not just unpacking things. I am unpacking a lifetime of memories. This time of year is not good for me, as it is almost 2 years since Mel passed away. I have so many memories of our life together. I have unpacked the first gift he ever bought me (a ceramic kitty cat), part of the first Christmas gift he ever gave me (a Mickey Mouse statue holding a great big gift box that he put a birthstone ring in for me to find), my wedding gown and veil, his things that I have kept for the kids to have and all the pictures of our lives together.
I am also taken back to Mel's last hospital stay of 2 years ago. I remember sitting on my window seat cot and watching the snow, the flight for life helicopters, the ambulances and all the other people coming to the hospital. I remember the bleak news we received day after day about Mel's health and prognosis. I remember just sitting with Mel and trying to absorb every moment, every feeling, every ounce of him. I wanted to take him "inside" of me and keep him safe and hold onto him forever. I remember staying awake at night and just watching him breathe and pleading with God with every breath I took to please spare his life. At times the pain is just as unbearable now as it was then. I have started feeling the "open gaping wound in my heart" pain again, and I am scared. I wonder if this will be the cycle I go through every year. Sometimes I wonder if I am really going crazy. I have been crying, a lot.
I was sitting in church on Sunday. The pastor's message was titled Extravagant Love. He talked about God's extravagant love for us, but he also talked about ways we show extravagant love to those we love. He mentioned the fact that caring for someone you deeply love when they are extremely ill and dying is an act of extravagant love. I very clearly heard Mel's voice say "Patty". I cried through the whole service. Mel was always so grateful for the things I did for him. He never went to sleep without telling me he loved me and thanking me for being there with him and taking care of him. I know that I am blessed. I do have the extravagant love of my Father, and I have also been lucky enough to experience the extravagant love of a man whom I absolutely adored and who loved me and spoiled me and was always kind to me. He would show up with flowers "just because", or a sweet card or small gift "just because". He always told me he was the luckiest man in the world, but I was the lucky one.
Last week a of friend of ours passed away. He was diagnosed with cancer within just a few months of Mel. He and his wife used to sit right behind us in church. I remember hugging his wife and seeing the fear in her eyes that I am sure was the same fear reflected in my eyes. He kept in touch with me by Facebook in Washington. We had last emailed about a month before we moved. He had been cancer-free, that is until the doctors scanned his abdomen. I wanted to go to his memorial service, but I just couldn't. I'm just not able to do that yet. I don't know if it's selfish or self-preservation, but I just can't bring myself to go to a funeral or memorial service. I do know that I will call his wife, maybe she needs the company of someone in the exclusive club called "widows-r-us" (I still hate that word).
On a lighter note, I can't get the stove in the new house to work. Some would call that a curse, I call it a blessing.
Well I am off. I have a date with a real square (packing box). Love you all.
Today I was busily cleaning house and getting things all shiny for the showing tomorrow. It made me think of the house that Miranda Lambert sings about in her song "The HouseThat Built Me". She sings about the house she spent her childhood in, and she goes back to relive her childhood memories and the things that happened to her there that made her who she is. I love the song.
It got me thinking about all the houses I have lived in. The first house I remember living in was a great big old house on Tejon street in what is now downtown Colorado Springs. I only have hazy memories, flashes of a staircase and the wood in the house. I also remember that my brother Andy picked at the plaster in his room until he made a hole in the wall. I remember a picture of Lois and me in dresses standing on the porch of that house.
I next lived in a house in the brand new subdivision called Widefield, near Security in Colorado Springs. When we moved there, our house was one of the first houses built. I remember it raining and flooding and tornado warnings. I remember filling the washing machine with water when it stormed, I guess to have fresh water. I remember my best friend Terri Hayes. We became friends in 2nd grade and remained friends into high school, even after I had moved, and then lost touch with one another. I remember raising our rabbits, mine was the one who had babies. I remember getting chicken pox with my brother and sister and my cousins Steven and Wendy. It was so hot. My mom and aunt Bonnie set up lounge chairs for us in our garage to lay on where it was cooler. I remember the poppies my mom had planted out front, and I remember being afraid she was going to go to jail for growing them because somewhere along my road of growing up I learned that heroin came from poppies. I'm now fairly certain that wasn't the kind of poppies mom grew. I remember being little and my dad tied me to the close line with the sash on one of my dresses and made me feel like I was flying. We had a huge back yard, and in the bottom of it Lois, Andy and I along with our partners in crime Steven and Wendy dug a great big huge fort in the dirt. We spent so many hours in that dirt. We fought wars, played house, played wagon train and anything else we could think of. My first boyfriend lived across the street from us. His name was Darryl Kriner. I remember he was a hemophiliac (bled easily) and had to get infusions of plasma and blood transfusions. I often wonder what happened to him, there were so many who ended up with HIV or AIDS from all the blood products they received before there was testing for this. We "went steady". He gave me a ring made out of beads, and I treasured it as if it was a diamond. This is where I lived when I remember losing a pet. We had a dachsund named Cisco. His back went out and we had to have him put to sleep. I remember mom and dad sent us outside to play so dad could sneak off to the vet with Cisco without us knowing. However, in true Cisco fashion, as dad drove by us outside he lifted his head and looked out the window as if to say goodbye to us. Dang dog.
When I was in 9th grade, we moved to Canon City, Colorado. I remember when we first went to see it. There were all these old people driving old cars, we called them Beaver Cleaver cars from the show Leave it to Beaver. We moved into a house in the country. We had an alfalfa field and an apple orchard. We lived next door to a dairy. They had a dog named Andy, and for a long time, we couldn't figure out why they were always yelling at my brother. We had a garden and black walnut trees and a circle driveway. I remember thinking that was pretty fancy. I worked next door at the dairy taking care of the calves. I LOVED that job. We lived in this house when my grandpa Tiffany died. I was almost 16 when he died. I remember he was the first person I loved who died (I was at least old enough for it to effect me). I had a pet goat named Cathy whom I adored. I bought and raised male calves from the dairy and sold them to my dad when they were ready to be butchered. The first time I fell in love I lived in this house. He knows who he is, so I won't say the name here, but we were crazy in love, only as teenagers can be. I remember "keggers" and "woodsies" (AKA beer parties) and bonfires. I remember Skyline Drive, a road the prisoners built that twists and turns atop a mountain above the old prison. Canon City is where most of Colorado's prisons are. I fell madly in love with a baby named Amy. She was a newborn baby whom I babysat for a year or so. I felt so important taking care of her. Of course she mostly slept when I was there, but I would go in her nursery and sit in the rocking chair and just watch her sleep. She was blonde and had blue eyes. I remember the huge bedroom Lois and I shared. We painted it the ugliest color of yellow, but at the time we thought it looked like sunshine. We always shared a bedroom when we lived at home.
In 11th grade I moved to Tehran, Iran. My dad had taken a job through the telephone company to be part of the team put together to install the phone system in Iran. We lived in an apartment. I remember feeling how strange it was to live somewhere that the people around you didn't speak your language. I remember being so horrified by the extreme poverty people lived in as much as I was fascinated with how rich the others lived. I remember the butcher shops with meat hanging outside in the heat with dried blood and flies on it. This is where my aversion to meat came from. I had a great friend there. Her name is Joy. We reconnected a couple years ago on Face Book. We were partners in crime. She had a boyfriend she was forbidden to have contact with because he was much older than she was. We traveled by cabs provided by the telephone company anywhere we went in Iran. Joy and I would call a cab and go to a fancy motel to mail her forbidden letters to Steve (by the way they are still married) and to buy our fancy cigarettes. We also ditched a lot of school and hung out at Mexicali restaurant. Two of the waiters were quite taken with Joy and I, and we would spend the days there eating and flirting until we had to take a cab to our bus stop to make it look like we got off the bus with everyone else. We also used to go to a park that was by the Shah's castle and sit and smoke and laugh and giggle. By then I was dating her brother Patrick and their mom's name was Patty too. So we would talk about my boyfriend and she would tell me about the forbidden Steve. It all ended when the Shah's regime started falling apart and severe rioting and killing of Americans started. We all had to leave. No time to say goodbye to anyone. We were just lucky to be able to get on a plane to anywhere but Iran. I am still so thankful for the experience and very, very grateful to live in the United States of America.
When we got back to the states we lived in Pueblo for a while with my grandma until we got a place in Canon City so that Andy and I could finish school at Canon City High with our friends. When my dad returned to the states, he took a job in Grand Junction with the phone company. After I graduated my mom moved to Grand Junction and that fall I moved there to go to college. That was a bad time in my life. This was right after I had my abortion. I started nursing school, and my first rotation was labor and delivery. It nearly killed me. I remember seeing babies being born and longing for my own. I dropped out after a semester. About a year later I moved to Pueblo and lived with my grandma. I went to business school to become a secretary and later started working at Parkview Hospital where I worked for 17 years.
In 1996 I bought my first house. I was so proud that I did this all by myself. I was still single. I met Mel a couple months before I bought the house. He helped me move and put things back together in the new house. This is the place we fell in love. This is where he proposed to me. This is where we lived when we had Nicole. When Nicole was 3 we moved up the street five blocks to the house where I lost Mel. I fell so in love with that house. It was so beautiful and seemed so huge. Mel bought me a hot tub. We would soak in it in the middle of the night when it snowed. That was our favorite time. This is where we lived when Daniel came to us, another baby to love. This is where we lived when Mel was diagnosed with cancer, where I cared for him when he was ill, and where I eventually lost him. I don't know if I could ever walk back into that house. This summer when we went home I could hardly drive by it. Every once in a while someone will tell me they have driven by and how the new owners have changed it. I don't want to hear. I want to erase the bad things and go back there and relive the good years again.
In May 2011 the kids and I moved to our house in Odessa, WA, 10 weeks to the day after Mel died we arrived in Odessa. I still don't know how I managed that. I hated being here, I hated living here, I hated being anywhere that Mel wasn't. This is the house that has built me the most. This is the house I have lived in where I have ranted and raged at God for taking Mel from me. This is the house where I have laid curled up in a ball in the middle of the night, night after night, sobbing, begging God for my old life back. This is the house where I have had to learn to function again, at least on the surface. I have spent more time in bed in this house than I probably had the previous years in our old house. This is where I have laid at night curled up with a baby puppy in my arms and tearing streaming down my face in loneliness. This is the house where we all three sleep in the same bedroom. I have gotten a lot of unasked for advice about how to remedy this situation. I figure they won't still be sharing a room with me when they get married so I'm not too worried about it. We still feel better if we are all together, especially at night. This is the house where my faith in God has been tested over and over and over again. This is the house where I have argued over and over and over again with God about not wanting to be here. This is the house where God has taught me so many things. He has taught me that He didn't take Mel from me as punishment. He took Mel home to live in Glory with Him until he comes again. This is the house where I have learned to laugh again and where I have started to trust God again. The time I have spent here has been a real spiritual journey for me, and God had the exact people in place here that He knew I would need before I even knew they existed. My Christian sisters Lynn, Kerry, Faye, Michelle, Merleen, Vici, Wendy. They have held me and loved me through so many emotions and changes and questions and doubts and fears. He put us next door to a wonderful couple who has loved us like family, second grandparents to my kids and sounding boards for me. He put me here with family to rely on when I need help or a place to go when it's lonely. So I believe that this is really the house that built me, because God has put me here to "build me" into the person I am today. I still miss Mel, I always will. I still don't understand why he couldn't have been cured here on earth, and I never will. I still get angry when I think of my kids not growing up with their daddy, and I always will. But this is really where my spirituality has been tested and grown more than any other time or place in my life, and for that I am thankful.
I first wrote this several months ago. It is now December 28, 2012. A lot has happened since this started. A few weeks ago my dad called me. He told me he wanted to start looking for us a house in Pueblo even though our Odessa house hasn't sold yet. I told him no, he told me yes, I told him no and told him I could not ever ask him to do that. He told me I hadn't asked but he had. He told me he didn't care what anybody else thought about his decision. He told me he is 75 years old and doesn't have that much time left to live, and the time he does have left he wants to live it with my children close to him (maybe me too). He told me he had even considered that maybe it would be best for us to be in Washington when he dies so that Nicole and Daniel wouldn't have to witness losing him. He asked me if I thought he was selfish. I told him no. I told him that my greatest desire was for my children to be near their grandparents again. I guess it takes being a grandparent to know the joy of actively participating in your grandchildren's lives. My kids are the only grandchildren my parents have ever had the opportunity to live near. So it comes to a full circle. Today a house is being bought for my family, about 2 miles from my parents home. Next week we start packing up, and then I move across country again for the 2nd time in less than 2 years. I am excited but I am also sad. I will miss my family and friends in Odessa, but I hope to remain a part of their lives. Facebook is a wonderful place. I love you all and wouldn't have missed being in Odessa for anything. God really does have a purpose for everything in life. There was a purpose in me being here, I have a whole new "circle of friends" whom I will love for life. Thank you, all of you for taking care of us this past year and a half.
