The End and the Beginning

2013 just arrived a few minutes ago and I sit here wondering what the new year has in store for me.  John has been gone for 42 days and I have made it through my first Thanksgiving, first Christmas and first New Year without him.  None of those events seemed real -- they seemed almost like I was watching a movie or TV show.  Thanksgiving and Christmas were John's favorite holidays and I fear that I will never truly enjoy them ever again.  Having Mary, Kim, Jacob, Nathan, Faith and Ruth here made it easier for me to get through the holidays but I still went to my room alone, slept alone, woke up alone.  Missing him has become my norm -- the grief still comes in waves (usually just one big wave that sucks me under and makes it hard to breathe). 

I want so much to feel happy instead of trying to pretend that I am.  I want so much to take the pain of losing their dad away from the kids.  I want so much to assure them that the memories will never fade -- that they will always remember the sound of his voice, the sound of his laugh, the way he smiled, the way he made everything ok.  I just can't figure out how to do that.

My greatest fear came true in 2012 -- losing someone who I loved so much.  I'm not taking anything for granted for 2013.  As this new year arrives, so does a new beginning; and I pray that God will bless my family with abundant love for each other -- that everyone will stay healthy -- that their deepest dreams will come true -- that we will grow closer to one another -- and that we will live our lives in a way that is honoring to the Lord and that honors the memory of the man that truly was the center of our family.

I love you, John Taylor -- forever and ever.

For As Long As We Both Shall Live

On Nov. 19, I lost the love of my life.  I spent 13,428 days with him by my side and now I can't figure out how to live my life without him.  I look out the window and see that winter is settling in -- the trees are bare of their leaves; the sky has that cold, wintery look; the ground is hard; the grass is no longer green and all of it mirrors how I feel inside.  Everything I thought I was seems to have been stripped away.  My strength, my courage, my purpose -- all of it left when John did.  I don't know how or even if I can ever get it back.  I try to dwell on what I had and not what I lost; but it's so darn hard.  Memories -- wonderful, sweet memories -- just make me cry because I want him back so we can make more of them. 

Every day and night, I ask God why and I never hear an answer.  There are times when I think that God's silence is because He is punishing me for something -- maybe for the times I showed my frustration or for the times I was insensitive to John's needs.  Maybe for the times I forgot to thank Him for all of the blessings He so graciously bestowed on me.  Maybe it is because I took so much for granted or didn't trust Him enough.  The silence is the worst.  I need to hear God speak to me.  I'd give anything for the silence to go away.

The house is so silent.  There is no noise -- no food channel on, no noise from the hospital bed being adjusted, no crashing noises as John hit something with his chair, no "Marie, can you help me," no one asking "what's for dinner," no laughing -- there's nothing but silence.  The silence just makes me miss John more.  I want to hear him again.  I want to hear those three words that I took so much for granted -- "I love you."  And how he did love me unconditionally! 

Mary showed me how to retrieve old deleted messages on my phone.  I found only one from John -- and I've played it over and over again.  I don't want to forget the sound of his voice and I'm scared I will.  I keep looking at pictures of him, of us; and I wish we had taken more in the last few months.  His appearance changed so much over the last couple of years and especially since March of this year.  The weight loss was substantial and we often joked that he was almost at his pre-wedding weight. 

I find it hard to focus on anything for long periods of time.  My mind wanders and I keep re-living the last month over and over again.  I worry that I didn't make the right decision about a viewing and traditional burial versus a cremation and memorial service.  Did I do the right thing to allow our children and me to come to terms with John's death?  Would John have been ok with how we chose to honor his life?  Did I fully seek God's guidance in the decisions I made?  In his final days, should I have attempted to talk to John about dying?  Did he forgive me for not keeping my promise in getting him home one last time? 

And when I think I can't face the answers to those questions, I begin to worry about the future.  How do I live with a broken heart?  How will I be able to handle any problems that arise with the house -- or can I even afford to keep it?  How do I live without the man I promised my love to -- the man who held my heart?  I have no answers -- only questions.

The greatest gifts that John gave me are immeasurable.  He gave me three wonderful children who have known that their dad loved them with all of his heart.  He gave his commitment and dedication to me and to the family we built together.  He showed me what it meant to love beyond -- beyond personal feelings, beyond hurt, beyond disappointment.  He showed me by his words and actions what it means to put your spouse first.  He taught me what it means to be patient (I'm a slow learner).  He taught me what a strong faith looks like by the way he lived his life.  And he lived out our wedding vows -- "for as long as we both shall live." 

Several days before John died, he was laying in the hospital bed; he reached over and took my hand and said, "We started this together and we're going to finish it together.  I love you."  He was right.

Life Has Changed

Since March 2, when John lost the pulse in his right foot, life has taken a turn down a road that I never wanted to travel.  Three radiology procedures, the amputation of John's right leg below the knee and the removal of a blood clot in his left foot have changed our lives forever.

I am in awe of my husband and the way he has handled this terrible ordeal.  He has always been the patient one, having enough for the both of us.  This journey, though, has tested that patience in ways that we could never have imagined.  He was in the hospital 78 of the last 94 days.  He has been through surgery, rehab and a battle with congestive heart failure. He can't walk; he can't drive; without assistance, he can't do any of the normal, routine things we all take for granted.  Yet, he rarely complains and he worries more about me than he does himself. 

I am in love with my husband -- more so today than 36 years ago when we promised to love each other "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."  He has been one of my life's greatest blessings.  I have no idea what I did to deserve his love, but I am forever grateful that he chose me to spend the rest of his life with.  More than anything, I wish I could erase the pain and frustration he has had to endure.  I wish I could give him back his right leg; I wish I could give him back the 90% of his heart function that is gone; I wish I could give him the assurance that everything is going to be ok; I wish I could give him frequent visits from our children and grandchildren; I wish I could give him the kind of life that we both dreamed we would have at this stage of our lives.  I can't give him these things; but I can promise him that, for always and forever, I will be by his side, as we face together whatever God has in store for our future.

The mirror is no friend of mine.  When I look into it, I see an old person with wrinkles, greying hair, dark circles and tear-stained skin.  I hope that's not what John sees.  I want him to still see me as the young woman he married so long ago.  I want him to see a smile on my face, light in my eyes, energy in my step.  I want him to think I have enough strength to carry the both of us on this journey.  I don't want him to doubt that I have the strength, patience and courage to face whatever the future holds. 

5 DAYS LOST ... AND STILL COUNTING

Imagine you are on the BIGGEST and FASTEST carnival ride ever .... one that is a combination of a ferris wheel, a carousel and a rollercoaster. Now imagine that it the ride has gone beserk and that it cannot be turned off. That, my friends, has been my life since I woke up on Thursday morning with vertigo. Today (Tuesday) is the first day that I can actually sit in an upright position and do something other than moan or throw-up. The dizziness is still there, although it does seem to be subsiding. I can turn to the right without getting dizzy. I guess the other directions will follow (hopefully, soon).

It is amazing that someone can lose 5+ days of her life and have nothing to show for it. I didn't just lose time from work; I lost time spent with God; time spent with my husband; time spent talking to my children; time spent with friends. I couldn't eat, couldn't clean, couldn't read, couldn't watch TV, couldn't drive, couldn't focus on anything other than trying to stop the spinning. I've realized how much of my life I take for granted ~~ from the little things like going to the bathroom by myself, taking a shower, getting dressed, finding the kitchen to get something to drink or eat. I've taken my relationships with others for granted, as well. I am truly blessed to have had my husband beside me this entire time. Without him, I'd still be in the same sweat-drenched nightgown I woke up in last Thursday. I probably would be unemployed because the orders were never done. I wouldn't have the medication the doctor prescribed because I wouldn't have been able to find the phone to call the doctor in the first place. He truly has been my life-saver during all of this.

I cannot explain how this happened or why. I know the technical medical reason that vertigo occurs. The inner ear contains fluid and small particles that float around in it. When those particles get "stuck," your brain cannot tell whether you are right side up or upside down and sends you into a spin. But what causes those particles to get stuck in the first place? When I went to bed on Wednesday night, I was fine. When I woke up 8 hours later, I was not. My doctor seems to think this may have been caused by an inner ear infection but that's not a certain diagnosis. It has to run its course and try to help the symptoms with medication. However, one of the side effects of the medication is that it causes extreme drowsiness .... so I have slept away the better part of a week.

I have been up since 7:30 am and it is now noon .... time for another nap. Hopefully, this nap will be a short one. Sleeping 20 hours a day may sound like a great thing to some of you reading this; but, believe me, it's not!

Lessons from Grand-Mommyhood

Even though I've only been a grandmother for 7 months, there are many things I've learned. Here are a few ...

Being a grandmother is my third favorite title ... right behind wife and mom!

There have been so many new baby inventions to make it easier for today's moms. I wonder why someone cannot come up with a diaper that eliminates the smell of poop!!

When God made the male species, he gave them a gene that makes them think their farts are funny. This weekend, I watched a dear friend's 1-yr old son. He walked over and sat in his little chair, lifted his right leg in the air and farted, then looked up at me with a great big grin on his face.

Not being able to see my grandchild makes my heart hurt.

It used to be that we'd take a trip to visit our daughter and son-in-law. Now, we take a trip to see our grandson (and if his parents are around, that's a double blessing).

Our children may not have been perfect, by our grandchild is!!

Love really does multiply with each generation.

There is still no better feeling in the world then to love and cuddle a child in your arms.

Motherhood has taught me more lessons than anything else in my life. Sometimes, I've learned the lesson quickly; other times, I have had to have the lesson repeated before I finally got "it." Here are a few things I have learned along the way ...

* Knowing how much I love my children, I am amazed to think that God loves them (and me) even more.
* My mom was right -- patience is not a gift that God automatically gives you. It is a virtue that He teaches us to acquire.
* When your mommy intuition tells you that something is just not right, pay attention!
* If you neglect to wash behind your ears (and other hidden places), something will grow there.
* Nothing I read in any of the baby books prepared me for the moment my child moved away from home.
* A mother's love really does multiply with the birth of each of her children.
* Convincing your child that his loose tooth really does have to come out may qualify you to become a hostage negotiator.
* One of the best gifts you can give to yourself as a parent and to your child is to make sure that you surround yourself with friends who share the same Christian beliefs that you do.
* When your husband is sick, he may not be able to differentiate between an oral and rectal thermometer. Try not to laugh out loud should this happen :-)

There is so much more I've learned in the 30 years I have been a mother. They will have to wait for another time.

Looking Back on 2008

The highlight of the year ... welcoming our first grandchild into the world. Nathanael Israel Wuenschel joined our family on July 9th and our lives will never be the same!!