"Let it Go" {no this isn't a post about Frozen!}

I've gone back and forth on whether I should post or not, and I guess if you are reading this, it means I decided to share.

A little over 3 years ago, I started this blog and in the first couple of sentences I said:

 "I make no promises that it will be pretty and rosy and it might get a little messy! I do hope to dig deeper into God's purpose for life and for death, for hurt and for heartache as I write."

The last 3 years have not been all pretty and rosy.  We have seen good days and bad days.  "Life" gets messy at times.  God's purpose for life and death still isn't crystal clear to me, but I have seen lives changed because of God's sovereign hand in everything.  To say I understand hurt and heartache would be a lie, I don't believe that I will have an understanding of that until I stand before Him in Heaven someday and He can explain it to me.  All I know is there are more good days than bad now.  Time doesn't "heal all wounds" but it takes the sting away from them.  Grief isn't something that you process the five steps of and then tuck away in a neat, tidy little package never to be revisited again.

Wikipedia defines {grief} as:

"a multifaceted response to loss, particularly to the loss of someone or something that has died, to which a bond or affection was formed. Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, it also has physical, cognitive, behavioral, social, spiritual, and philosophical dimensions"

In a great article I found on grief, a couple of statements jumped out at me:

The grieving process takes time. Healing happens gradually; it can’t be forced or hurried—and there is no “normal” timetable for grieving.

God has BLESSED me beyond measure by allowing Rick into my life, and bringing me LOVE again. Though I NEVER EXPECTED to love again, and surely not so soon after losing Rickey, i have come to realize there truly is no timetable for grieving.  I believe with my whole heart that I have grown in my walk with Christ because of the influence of both of the Rick{s} in my life.  Rickey has gone on to a WAY BETTER PLACE than I can ever imagine, and I have the assurance that he is at home with his Savior.  Rick is here for me now, bringing joy back into my life, and walking alongside me as we "do life" daily.  He has helped me as I've grieved, and he journeys through each day patiently at my side {and some days it takes way more patience than others}! I'd like to add here though that just because I have "moved on" it does not mean that I have stopped grieving or that there is not still a hole in my heart from the loss of Rickey

MYTH: If you don’t cry, it means you aren’t sorry about the loss.

Fact: Crying is a normal response to sadness, but it’s not the only one. Those who don’t cry may feel the pain just as deeply as others. They may simply have other ways of showing it.

I.DON'T.CRY.  I just don't.  Now, I might cry over a sappy Hallmark movie, or a sad Disney tale, but when it comes to the "big" stuff.  I don't usually cry.  I just don't.  I guess it's from years of being "tough", and being told that I was "tough".  I've been told, "you're strong, you can handle it" about many situations over many, many years.  I've somehow, over the years, {learned} not to "cry over spilled milk", or strained relationships, or broken promises, or unfulfilled dreams and hopes.  Crying didn't change or fix such circumstances, therefore, why cry? I've learned that crying is sometimes seen by others as manipulative, and I don't want to bee seen that way. So, why cry?  I remember when my dad had his heart attack, was taken on the Flight For Life to Green Bay, went into open heart surgery and had complications a week later, I never cried.  Never.  I watched people all around us in that ICU waiting room crying, boxes of Kleenex everywhere, wondering why in the world, they were crying, after all, their tears wouldn't change anything. Through all these situations and more, my "mantra" was "just suck it up".  "Be brave".  "Be strong".  "Trust in God, it's all in His hands anyway .... crying won't change it".  So I didn't cry. ... all in the name of being strong.

{which is the PERFECT segue to the next and final statement I'll share from that article}:

MYTH: It’s important to be “be strong” in the face of loss.

Fact: Feeling sad, frightened, or lonely is a normal reaction to loss. Crying doesn’t mean you are weak. You don’t need to “protect” your family or friends by putting on a brave front. Showing your true feelings can help them and you.

Um, wait a minute.  Sad, frightened, lonely is o.k.?  Sad? Even when I'm happy about where I am in life, excited about new doors that God is opening every day and the fact that for the first time in my life, I feel like I know "what I want to be" when I grow up?  Frightened?  Even when I don't know why?  Lonely?  In a house filled with kids, and pets and a new husband?  Crying doesn't mean I'm weak, I don't have to put on a brave front?  I've heard all this.  My mind tells me that I {know} all this. Still, I don't "practice" it.  I smile even if I'm sad!  I act brave even when I'm scared.  I feel guilty if i feel lonely, in a life filled with wonderful friends, family {and pets}! 

So, imagine my surprise the other morning when I found myself on my bed, curled up like a child, sobbing like I don't ever remember sobbing.  Crying so hard my chest hurt and my eyes burned and i couldn't catch my breath, no matter how hard I tried to remind myself of the {proper} way to breathe that I teach my students at Broga. Crying like I've never cried before.  I am not sure what triggered it but in those moments, I knew that I just couldn't {always} be strong anymore.  I had to allow myself to be weak.  I had to say it was o.k. to be vulnerable.  I reached out to some good friends who covered me in prayer.  I admitted to them that I WAS weak.  I shared with them my fears, and my anguish, and yes, my grief. And, guess what?  They STILL LOVED ME!  They didn't turn away because I was weak.  They didn't think less of me because I wasn't strong.  Even though we weren't physically together, they held me.  They held me in their thoughts and more importantly they held me in their prayers.  They LOVED ON me even though I was a wreck!  Later that day/evening I did my best to explain it to Rick {who bless his soul is a man and didn't completely "get" it} and he held me as I fell asleep .... tucked in my "safe place".  

So, why share?  why this long post now, at Christmas when we should all be happy and jolly?  Because I really want you to know that it's not always pretty.  That way too often I {and probably you too} hide behind our smiles, and our pretty packages under the tree, and the plates of cookies we have baked.  We hide behind the facade of "nice" so people don't have to see that we are real ... because if they know the "real" us, then they might not love us.  Guess, what?  That's not true!  In the middle of my "yuck" of a few days ago, a friend sent me a Facebook message that said, "Hope you are ok? Hang in there. Praying!!!"

She had NO IDEA I'd had a "yucky" day.  She is a precious sister in Christ, but honestly, we've had very little contact recently, yet, God prodded her to message me .... Oh sweet sister {or brother} as the ever famous song from Frozen says ...

LET IT GO ..... 

Really, let it go!  Stop pretending, be weak if you need to be weak.  Be vulnerable if you need to be vulnerable.  Those who TRULY love you will still be there.  You'll find out how much they really do love you.  You'll discover how much GOD really loves you!

Merry CHRISTMAS!

It's been a year since my last post here.  Not a year of Rickey being forgotten by any means, just a year of us living life, and continuing on in this "new normal" that God is writing for us.

As I opened this page to write this morning, many thoughts flooded my mind, but I believe writing right now was divinely appointed.  At the exact moment I positioned my fingers on the keys to begin typing, "Amazing Grace, My Chains Are Gone" came on the radio.  In case you don't know, that was Rickey's funeral song.  The song I can FINALLY make it through without crying - most of the time - but not today.

November 2, 2005, my sweet Mama called me early telling me that she had called the rescue squad for my Dad, "We think it's his heart" she said.  As that day unfolded, my amazing Daddy was transferred from the E.R. to the I.C.U. at our local hospital where they attempted to stabilize him before feeling it was safe to flight him to Green Bay for further evaluation and treatment.  I will always remember how I felt late that afternoon as I watched the helicopter lift off and head south, holding one of the most important men in my life. That helicopter represented so much to me in those moments ... fear for my Daddy and his health, gratitude for the men and women who had taken care of him all day, and those who were caring for him on that flight, and desperate prayers that God please help my Daddy!  God wasn't through with my Dad's work here on earth.  After quadruple by-pass surgery, an implanted pace-maker and later an ICD, some setbacks and many medical "miracles" my Dad came home and today, 9 years later he is at hunting camp preparing for another hunting season!

November 5, 2011, a police officer and my Pastor and his wife met us in our driveway prior to a frantic drive to that same E.R. where my Dad's journey had begun just over six years earlier.  I clearly remember as we pulled into the parking lot, I longed to see the landing pad set up with Eagle III waiting. That helicopter represented {earthly} life and hope to me. The course of November 5, 2011 wasn't anything like the course of  November 2, 2005.  Rather than a helicopter swooping in and whisking Rickey to another medical facility for treatment and {earthly} intervention, as it did for my Dad, God reached down with divine intervention, calling Rickey home to Heaven.

"Time heals all wounds" they say.  I do not agree. Time softens the hurt.  Time allows you to breathe again.  Time gives you a new, better perspective. Time allows for acceptance. Time brings God into focus, and allows you to lean on Him like you've never leaned on Him before. Time does not stop, just because your life feels like it did. The wounds that we experienced on November 5, 2011 will always be with us.  The wounds have softened, though some days they feel just as fresh as they did that day.  We are able to breathe a little easier, most of the time. We have a better perspective, of life on earth, and the hope of our eternal life in Heaven, things that once seemed so important have faded some in light of eternity. Time has allowed for the acceptance that God has a bigger plan for our lives. Time has allowed us to fully lean on God and we have grown closer to Him than we ever imagined we would. Time has not "healed" our wounds.  They are still there.  We still miss Rickey. Every day. We miss the commotion around this time of year, getting ready for hunting season.  We miss the things that he, as a Daddy/Grandpa "should" be here for, the graduations, the birth of babies, the big and little events that we used to take for granted! 

"Time" has passed.  Three years of time.  Thirty-six months of time.  1,096 days of time.  26,304 hours of time. 1, 578,240 seconds .... yes, time has passed, and continues to pass each moment. Life did not stop 1,578,240; 41, 42, 43, 44 seconds ago .... it keeps on ticking away.  Rickey's "time" on earth did stop three years ago, but with that last fleeting breath here on earth, he breathed his first breath of eternity.  At that moment 1096 days ago, God spoke softly, "Child, come home", and Rickey did! As I type this, 26,304 and 1/2 hours ago, I fully believe that Rickey stepped into the presence of his Savior and Lord and heard the words, "Well done My good and faithful servant, well done."

Yes, we still miss Rickey today, three years later.  We still, at times wonder "why"?.  We still feel the hurt, time did not "heal" that wound.  We will always have a piece of our hearts that left with Rickey that day. We miss his laughter and soft, gentle personality. But, as one of the girls put it, "We had Daddy as long as we were supposed to."  Our earthly minds cannot comprehend God's ways. We will not fully understand this side of eternity why God chose to call Rickey home that day three years ago. We will however rest in the fact that

 "Your eyes saw my unformed body;

    all the days ordained for me were written in your book

    before one of them came to be. " {Psalm 139:16}

We will believe that God in His sovereign will had designated November 5, 2011 as the ending of Rickey's "days ordained {on earth} for him, before one of them ever came to be".  We will also believe that Rickey's last and most important prayer would be that one day, he is able to stand there and greet you at the gates of Heaven {as he greeted everyone coming into church on a Sunday morning} with an "I'm glad you are here" as he hears Your Lord proclaim to you "Well done My good and faithful servant, well done."

Time does not heal all wounds, but time does not stop either!  Each of us, like Rickey will breathe our last breath here on earth.  When you breathe your last earthly breath, do you have the assurance of an eternity in Heaven as Rickey did?  If you do, live each moment FOR eternity, use your life to bring glory to God, and lead others to Him.  If you don't have that assurance, please search your heart, dig into your Bible, ask someone some questions and make that decision today.  It is the most important decision you will ever make! You can never be good enough or nice enough, or giving enough to get into Heaven. You will not get into Heaven through regular church attendance, service or by being baptized {that's your outward profession of your internal decision!}.  The ONLY WAY you can be assured of hearing "Well done My good and faithful servant, well done" is to have a personal relationship with Christ .... don't wait - you aren't promised your next earthly breath, life can change in the blink of an eye!

Dear Rickey,

From Facebook:

You wrote on Rick Rye's timeline.

November 5, 2011 at 8:44pm

“For those who may not know, RICKEY ROGER RYE entered in to HEAVEN's GLORY around 11:00 this morning. The kids and I are struggling to make sense of this loss, but also KNOW that GOD is fully in control of each day of each of our lives and that GOD called Rick HOME today. One day, we are all fully assured that we will see him again in GLORY.”

That was posted by me at  8:44 p.m. on one of the worst days of my life, but in reality, it was the BEST day of Rickey’s life because at 10:55 a.m. that morning 2 years ago, he found himself face-to-face with the GREATEST love of his life, Jesus.  We still struggle to make sense of this loss, but our faith in KNOWING that GOD is fully in control of each day of each of our lives has not wavered.  Until God calls US home, we won’t fully understand why God chose November 5,  2011 to call Rickey home, but we will continue to rest in the assurance that we WILL see him again someday in Glory.

Dear Rickey,

2 years ago this morning, you quietly got out of bed, got ready for work and came around my side of the bed and lightly kissed my right cheek . . . and then you were gone.

Little did I know how precious that kiss would become to me as it was the last one I was ever blessed to receive from you.

You were going over to Clayton's to finish up the roof - so it would be done before hunting season (in 10 days) and you went early enough so you'd be done so we could go up to Dad's camp for the party they'd been planning for months.

I remember so vividly all the events of that morning, bringing Kajsa to meet up with Sarah to go to Appleton, the craft show in Stephenson with Taya, playing on the computer waiting for you to come home . . . it all seems like yesterday . . . it all seems like forever ago.

As I look back, I'm also continuously amazed at GOD's hand in that day.  As I waited for you, I downloaded a couple of books for my Kindle, one entitled "When God Weeps ... Why our Suffering Matters to the Almighty".  Little did I know when I downloaded that book how much I would need the wisdom it contained.  As I sat by the computer, somehow, God blocked my ears to the many sirens that had to have gone past on the highway.  We  ALWAYS hear the sirens here, especially when sitting in the dining room next to the sliding door.  That day I didn't hear any of them.  When you didn't get home, and Taya and I decided to head out and let you drive up later, God did not allow my phone to ring, or my text alert to sound.  I later found that I had missed a text message and a phone call from Mike Borski.   Because of this, when we turned around because "something just didn't feel right", I was able to hear the news from our dear friend and State Trooper, Mike in person, not over the phone.  God allowed Pastor and Bobbi to be immediately available, and Tessa to not have left for work yet.  He allowed Cody and Marlo to be available to meet up with Kajsa's group and bring her back home to us.  He blessed us with the sweetest nurse ever in Erin.  I just know that as terrible as that day was, God put Erin there, at that time to be a blessing to us.  There is so much more, so many little details of how God held us in His precious hands, too many to list each of them.

I've heard many people say that they don't remember the details of tragic events.  I do.  I remember nearly every.single.moment. of that entire day, vividly.  I remember the drive to the hospital making frantic phone calls.  I remember walking into the E.R. and the faces of Pete and Tom who had been the first responders from Mid County Rescue, and I remember the walk to that empty room.  I remember hearing the news from Dr. Stein, Erin's calming presence, family and friends arriving in shock, talking to the transplant co-ordinator, coming home to the empty house full of people.  I remember.  I remember shaking uncontrollably and wondering "what now"?  I remember writing an obituary and planning a funeral that I NEVER wanted to plan.  I remember picking out a place to bury you, and the cold, blustery, snowy day that it happened (the kind of day you LOVED to be hunting in!).

Ah, Rickey, in earthly terms, and in earthly time, you left us WAY TOO SOON.  You lived well and you loved well.  You had no enemies, and you loved God and then the rest of us with your whole  being.  We didn't then, and we don't now understand.  It does not make sense.  You should not have had to leave us so soon.  There is so much you will miss, here on earth.  But, then, I repeat that last part of that last sentence to myself, "here on earth".  For I know without a doubt, that YOU are in Heaven, in Paradise, with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  And no matter how much you loved us, and we loved you, if given the opportunity to return to "here on earth", you wouldn't want to.  For the glories that you are experiencing surpass anything that we could imagine.  So, the questions "why" and the sadness of "what ifs", the longing for "just one more day" are ours as humans living "here on earth".  Until we meet you again in glory, we will not, cannot know what you are experiencing.  So, we will continue to grieve.  We will continue to miss you.  We will continue to wish you were here, for the day-to-day and especially on "special days".  But our grief is for ourselves, not for you, for we know that you are happier, and freer than you had ever been, "here on earth".

Besides me, you left behind so many people who loved you dearly.  Your precious Dad and Mom – no parents should have to bury their child.  Your brothers and sisters and their families, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, hunting buddies and card playing partners, all still feel your absence keenly.  And then there are the kids and grandkids.  Oh, Rickey, they love you so much.  They do things to make you proud every single day.  They love me and take care of me, and so much more importantly, they LOVE JESUS.  They are following in your footsteps and serving HIM with all of their lives.  I hate to see them hurting.  I wish this was a pain I could have taken from them, but I cannot.  I can only love, and pray, and be so thankful to you for them.

So today, 2 years after that last good-bye kiss, I just want you to know that not a day goes by that you are not missed.  You will be forever loved.  You were my best friend and my Bud and I know that I will see you again one day.  Until then, I will continue to live life, for I did not die with you that day (though it sure felt like it would have been easier to).  I will laugh, and love again, but you, my dear Rickey will always have a place in my heart, a Rickey shaped hole that only you ever filled.  And someday, we SHALL meet again.

Love you Bud ♥

Forever & Always ♥

still grieving . . . .

"The reality is that you will grieve forever.

You will not 'get over' the loss of a loved one;

you will learn to live with it.

You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered.

You will be whole again but you will never be the same.  

Nor should you be the same nor would you want to."

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross & John Kessler

October 28 - We went out on a date, just the 2 of us, to LaCabana in Menominee.  It was our first time there, and little did we know, our last.  That day, Kajsa learned that she had made the cheer team.  Her Daddy was so proud!  

We never dreamed he'd never see her cheer.

October 29 - The girls and I went to town to run errands and get groceries.  We searched all over for pumpkins to carve.  We finally found some right here in Wallace.  As we left the pumpkin patch, Kajsa slammed her foot in the car door (I still can't figure out how her LEFT foot was slammed in the RIGHT side passenger door - but that's Kajsa!)

Little did we know that this would be the last boo-boo Daddy would console.

October 30 - We went to church.  Like always.  Rickey stood at the door with a smile and a hug for all who entered.

I'm sure nobody there dreamed it would be the last "good morning" hug, smile and hand-shake they'd get from Rickey.

And on we go through the week that lies ahead.

Living in the present, but all too aware of the past.

Someone told me that the second year after loss can be harder than the first. 

They were right in some ways.

The first year is about survival.

The first year was about all the "firsts".  I survived the first Birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Easter . . . the first anniversary of when he went to Heaven.  And because they were the "firsts" others remembered them as well.  They were fresh for everyone, we grieved together at times, at times I grieved alone, deeply and agonizingly.

The second year is about reality.  

The second year began . . . I survived the second Birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas . . . and by then, I began to realize that this IS real.  This IS my new reality.  The numbness and newness of the grief was no longer there, I began to  "feel" again.  And, even though life HAS moved on, I have felt deeply.  The grief has been deeper and sharper than I imagined, hitting when I least expect it.  The question STILL plagues me . . . why?  I KNOW in my head that God's ways are NOT my ways.  I KNOW that our days are in His hands and were written before even our first breath was taken (Psalm 139), but still . . . why?  It still doesn't make sense.  I still don't understand. This was NOT my plan.  I do my best to "be still and know".  I do my best to remember WHO is in control (and it's surely not me).  But it still hits, some days like a tsunami.  Sudden, unexpected and fierce.  I have cried more tears this year than last.  I have questioned myself more this year than last . . . did I LOVE him enough?  Did he know how much I loved him?  In his death, did I point people to Jesus enough?  The list goes on.

Until I get to Heaven myself, those questions will never be answered.  I will never know how Rickey's life and death may have impacted others.  Until then, I have to continue to trust that GOD, not me is writing my story.

Just this morning, I read a quote on Facebook:

"My life may not be going the way I planned it, but it's going exactly the way God planned it."

So, as this week marches on (as time has a way of doing), I will continue to trust that God's ways are higher than mine.  I will continue to thank Him for my beautiful children who Rickey left to me as a reminder, and a testimony of his life of service to Christ.  I will be ever so thankful that He brought Rick into my life - who so graciously and lovingly understands this strange dance with grief that I do.  For I have learned that grief is not something you ever 'get over', rather, it just takes on different dimensions as time passes.

As C.S. Lewis said:

For in grief nothing 'stays put.'  One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs.  Round and round.  Everything repeats.  Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral?

But if a spiral, am I going up or down it?

How often -- will it be for always? -- how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say, 'I never realized my loss till this moment'?  The same leg is cut off time after time."

Ah, yes, what a perfect metaphor . . . it happens time after time - and each time it's like remembering it anew.

"The reality is that you will grieve forever.

You will not 'get over' the loss of a loved one;

you will learn to live with it.

You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered.

You will be whole again but you will never be the same.  

Nor should you be the same nor would you want to."

FiNdiNg OuR "New Normal" and the bLeSsiNgS along the way . . .

I started blogging here on November 17, 2011, 12 days after life as I had known it for almost 20 years was changed forever in the blink of an eye.

Since that time I have blogged about many of my feelings through this strange reality that became my life . . . becoming a “widow” (I STILL hate that word) at 45, becoming a suddenly single mom, struggling to know where I now fit in, in this world of couples.  I blogged about the “good”, the “bad” and sometimes the “ugly”.  After one post about the “good”, a comment was left that said, in part, that I was “only happy when things were going my way”.  Wow!  Really?  If you look back to the November 17, 2011 post that listed my husband’s obituary, I’d say that’s not really life “going my way”.  “My way” would have included at least 20 more years of living life together, at least 20 more years of seeing the grandchildren we had grow up, at least 20 more years together of seeing the girls graduate from high school, go to college, get married, have children, AT LEAST 20 more years of living with and loving my best friend.   However, even though life did not go “my way”, I CHOSE to trust what it says in Isaiah 55:8, “For My thoughts are not your thoughts,  neither are your ways My ways, saith the Lord” and stake my claim on God’s promises that nothing that ever touched my life was out of His control or out of His Divine plan.  Some days that knowledge helped, some days it didn’t.  Still I trusted.

As unbelievable as it seemed on November 17, 2011, life did move on, and in His timing, God did allow me to find love again, a new love, a new chapter in this book of my life.  Not a new book to replace the years, the love, the memories, the laughter, the AMAZING children or the life Rickey and I shared, just a new chapter in the big story called my life.  For, as hard as it was to accept that Rickey’s life on earth ended on November 5, 2011, mine did not, and God was and is still writing my story.

For those who may think that in moving on, I have forgotten, let me share a quick little story with you.  About a year ago, I blogged about how people tended to remember us on the big days; Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, birthdays, Tessa’s graduation . . . but that those days to me weren’t the hardest because I knew they were coming and I could prepare for them . . . I could mentally become strong before they arrived and therefore, I could stand strong and survive them.  It was the “little” days, the days that meant something to us, not others that hit the hardest . . . and still do.

This post has been a month in coming as I have processed my thoughts and feelings ... you see, the first weekend in August is the Waterfront Festival in town, a weekend that for us as a family was a "tradition" . . . one of those "little" days in the eyes of others, but a "BIG" day in my memories.  This year, as I drove to work on that Saturday night just after the fireworks ended, I was FLOODED with those memories and moments.  I remembered all the years of going to the fireworks at Waterfront on Saturday night.  We went even before the girls were born.  For years we met my friend Jayne, her husband, Clark, and their kids there.  One of the first years we went, Rickey and Kaylyn (Jayne’s daughter) snuggled up under a blanket eating caramel corn because she was scared of the fireworks, and by the end of the evening she was having a blast!  The tradition continued throughout the years, we always brought Kaylyn caramel corn when we went to the fireworks – even after she was grown up and married (Kaylyn even brought a box of Crunch 'n Munch to Rickey's funeral).  And then, life hit.  Jayne was diagnosed with cancer.  Our years of fireworks ended and unbelievably, Jayne died.  Way too soon.  Way too young.  Would Waterfront fireworks ever be the same without  her infectious laughter punctuating the beauty of the fireworks? (The answer to that question is no, they will never be the same, but I'll ALWAYS remember that infectious laugh!) . . .  We never dreamed that Rickey would follow so quickly after Jayne.  As I continued my ride into work, and reminisced, I saw the lawn chairs and blankets spread, staking claim to spectator’s spots for the parade to be held in the morning.  I remembered driving home from fireworks, doing the same, staking our claim, holding our spot, where we’d watch the parade, collect candy, and again, visit with Jayne and her family.  Oh, the memories . . . a “family tradition” that wasn’t like the Christmas /Thanksgiving/Easter tradition.  This was a tradition that was unknown to most people, yet a tradition to us.  Another part of life that no longer was and we could never get it back.  Not only is Jayne gone, but so is Rickey.  Both of them taken way too soon for those of us left behind.  Yes, those memories hit.  They hit when they are least expected, and sometimes, it’s like a tsunami.  One foot still somewhat in the past, the rest of me living the here and now.  It’s still a difficult dance, it’s still a tightrope of emotions.

August also brings not only Jayne's Birthday, but Rickey's as well . . . MORE MEMORIES to sift through, to try to reconcile with our new reality . . . memories of days gone past, birthday celebrations that will not come again . . . more walking on that tightrope of emotions.

So, yes, the memories still hit.  Sometimes fiercely.  Sometimes when least expected.  Sometimes out of the blue with no warning at all.  In those times, I’m so very thankful that God DID bless me with Rick.  Rick, who listens when I need to ramble on about the past.  Rick who totally gets that his love to me is such a blessing for the here and now, yet understands that my love for Rickey was also true and for always.  Before I met Rick, I was told by my sweet sister-in-law Rochet that it would take a special man to come into my life, for he would have to understand that unique dynamic in my life.  The fact that Rickey’s love for me and mine for him did not die on November 5, 2011, it just took on a new dimension.  I wasn’t sure what she meant at the time, and I wasn’t sure that there would be someone out there who could understand that dynamic but, Rick does!  He loves me and the girls and would do anything for us (his exact words when I asked him how much he loves the girls is that he would "take a bullet for them"),  yet he understands that Rickey did not leave us willfully to cause us pain.  He understands that our marriage, our life together on this earth did not end because of bitterness and anger as is often the case in divorce, rather that Rickey heard God calling his name, and he said, “Yes, Lord, I’m coming home”, here one moment, and opening his eyes in Paradise the next moment.  Rick understands that he’s the new chapter in this book, along this journey called life.  He not only understands the crazy dynamics of my life but he helps me to cherish the memories, as well as enjoying making new memories in this chapter.   My love for him does not diminish the love I shared with Rickey, it just makes the “where I am now” amazing!

Because of this, I have decided to start a new blog.  I will keep this one open, this place that I pray shares Rickey's legacy, and when I have thoughts and feelings and emotions that would be best addressed here, I will post here.  

But, the things that happen in our new chapter need their own chapter.  This blog IS Rickey’s legacy, and should stay that way.  My new blog is {appropriately, I think} titled “Blessings for the Journey”  (if you click on the name, you will find it!) . . . a continuation of this blog, “Our Journey to a New Normal”.  For despite the heartache and difficulty, we ARE finding a "new normal" and we have seen the blessings that the Lord sends our way.  If you want, you can join us on this new leg of our journey, we’d love to have you come along!

August 18 . . . 8/18 . . . as I wrote that date at work today, I wanted to complete it 8/18/56, because for YEARS that is the date I filled in on any type of form that required Rickey's date of birth.  Two years ago, we celebrated him "turning the speed limit" when he turned 55.  Who would have EVER dreamed on that sunny August day that 2 1/2 months later, we would be saying good-bye and that Rickey would forever be 55 in our minds?

 

So today, this day again filled with SO MANY memories of birthdays gone by, my Birthday wish to Rickey is this:

"Happy Birthday, Bud.  I can't believe that you are spending your 2nd Birthday in HEAVEN.  I'm pretty sure that days like this don't mean much when compared to the splendors of Heaven, but today, on earth, we will still celebrate YOU!  Though our human minds will NEVER grasp the reason that you had to leave us so soon, we WILL rest in the confidence that God does not make mistakes.  We might not like what happens, but we will continue to trust that HE is in control. You would be SO PROUD of the kids.  Nick and Ashley (and Ashley and Brian) are amazing parents to all the grand-kids and they have been THE BEST big brother and sister - loving on and helping to take care of the "little" girls!!  And the "little" girls, my goodness, you would be surprised at how they have grown!  I am reminded EVERY DAY of how blessed I am that they call me mom, and that you left these 3 treasures to me!  Your legacy truly does live on through them.  They are amazing young women whose faith in God has not wavered despite all they have been through!  Your unwavering faith in our unfailing God lives on through them and their big brother & sister!  Not a day goes by that we don't think about you and miss you, and thank God that your life was a reflection of your love for the Lord and through your testimony, we KNOW that we KNOW that we KNOW where you are for all eternity and we KNOW that we WILL see you again someday.  Thank you for loving us well while you were here and for giving us the strength we would need to move forward without you.  You were an AMAZING husband, Daddy, Papa, Uncle, Son, Brother & Friend.  Everyone who ever met you was better for having known you!  HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUD! With my love ♥"

When I first started blogging, I met my sweet friend Leah (you can check out her blog HERE ) through another blog for widows called "A Widow's Might".  Leah and I became good friends even though we live states apart.  We keep in touch via Facebook, texts, e-mails and the occasional phone call.  She was exactly 6 months and 1 day ahead of me in her "journey" of being a widow, so she was my inspiration, "if Leah can do it, so can I"!!

This past week, I was honored to receive an e-mail from Kit, from "A Widow's Might" asking me to guest post for her.  My prayer since Rickey died has been that I can show others the light and life and restoration that is available through Jesus!  You can read my first guest post there by clicking HERE.

I'm so thankful that God CAN turn my ashes to His beauty, and pray that He may be glorified, and others encouraged in Him through my testimony of His faithfulness!  

Thank you too, to Rick, your encouragement and support for me in this adventure is beyond amazing, and I LOVE YOU! ♥