THE conversation......

A week or so ago I decided to sit down with the boys and see what they thought about, perhaps, their mother dating.  I wanted to have the conversation and get their thoughts prior to doing anything about it.  It's not that I was 100% ready at the time, and I'm not sure I'm 100% ready now- but then is anyone ever 100% ready? When I met Steve I would say I was about 85% ready and we ended up talking marriage on the second date.
When I spoke with the boys I just asked simply, "What are your thoughts about me going on a date?"
I wish I could clearly convey the looks on their faces.  Parker looked very thoughtful.  Klarke looked calm and Grant....well he looked ticked off.
Parker spoke first and said, "If it will make you happy Mom, then I think you should do it.  I support you." This warmed my heart.
Klarke chimed in, "Yep! We could have someone to watch football games with again."  This made me feel two things: sadness for the boy who is missing his dad so much, and nervous that he would expect that right away from any sort of dating situation.
Grant simply said, "No way! You can't.  I don't want anyone but Dad in our house."  This was expected.  Steve was his best friend.
I just let them all know that nothing was in the works.  My first priority is to my boys- always.  They come first.  This doesn't mean that I won't go, should the opportunity arise, but it does mean that I will be very, very careful about who meets the boys and when.
I guess what I'm saying with all of this is that the thought of moving forward is appealing to me.  I've stagnated for too long.  My heart aches and the desire to find a friend is there.  Anything more than that right now seems to overwhelming, but I would like a friend to at least laugh with.  No pressure.
That's where we are tonight. Much love, Kami

Learning to Live Again....

When I was in Utah this summer I ran into a wonderful woman who began the walk I'm currently walking nearly a year before I did.  She said something that really struck me.  She said that music spoke more to her now than it had ever before.  I couldn't agree more.
Just after Coach had passed away, I was brought to my knees with the gut wrenching grief of missing him.  I just wanted to know that he missed me, still loved me, still thought of me.  As I was kneeling upon my tile floor Jon Legend's song "All of Me" came on.  If you've never heard it before, it details the love between Jon and his wife and the love they have for each other; all their idiosyncrasies, joys and all that goes into the middle of a love that deep that it inspires music to be written.
It was an answer to prayers.
Lately the music has been quiet.  Songs come and go on the radio.  I hear music in church and it doesn't reach me.  I feel as though I may be dying inside.  The numbness has worn off and I typically feel everything so raw- not lately though.  I'm not sure why.
I am lonely.
I'm sure this will pass as well. I hope this will pass as well.
There is such joy, safety, happiness, peace in sharing your life and being half of a whole.
This feeling won't last forever.  I know that it won't, and I can recognize that it is real in this moment.
I opened my arms wide open, chose life, and now I get to live with that choice.  I took his ring off from around my neck- it was choking me, not literally.  I've worn it since it was handed to me by the medical examiner in the emergency room.  It was the first symbol that meant he wasn't coming home ever again and the weight of it all was making it increasingly harder to stand, to choose life, to live.  I tried taking my wedding ring off, because now when I fill out forms it requires that I check the 'widow' or 'single' box, because I can no longer claim that I am married in this life, though I know I am in the life to come.

I put the ring back on.  It is a symbol of a promise that I have made and will continue to keep.  It is a strength to me, and so I waiver between needing the strength from a small symbol of eternity, and wanting so desperately to be strong enough to stand without it.
In the words of Garth Brooks from his song "Learning to Live Again" - "This learning to live again, is killing me." Again, not literally, but man this process is slow, arduous, painful, and with small moments of joy.  Thank you for coming along on this journey with me.
All my love,
Kami

The Wheel We Run On

I shared this on Facebook last week, and thought I should post it here as well-
The house is quiet. Well it would be quiet if Normandy the Hamster would quit running on his hamster wheel. I swear, just when it's time to lay my head down and get some sleep, that little guy thinks it's time to run a marathon and off he goes! He probably covers the equivalent of 26.2 miles every night on his run....well to nowhere. How often do we do this? Climb onto our wheels and then just go....without a destination in mind, without a purpose, except to be moving? I did that. In the months following Steve's death, I got on my hamster wheel and just ran. I was trying to outrun the pain, the loss, the missing, the life that I had built together with my best friend. Guess what...it didn't work. It was only when I stopped running, opened my arms wide and fell into all that I'd been outrunning that the healing finally began. It sounds so cliche' and perhaps it is-just a bit. But for all of those who have ever been faced with seemingly insurmountable odds- be brave. Perhaps it won't be today, or even tomorrow, but at some point you will need to get off the wheel, take a deep breath, and decide to live by embracing what is necessary to live: LIFE. Happy Tuesday my friends.

The Football Season

It's here.

The time of year that I wait for all year long, but this year it's coming with a bit of anxiety and slight dread.  My coach won't be on the sideline.  He'll be watching, I'm sure of that- but there won't be any kisses after the game: win or lose.  There won't be moments where he'll turn and look for me in the stands.  There won't be the excitement of watching game film and talking about his thoughts on what the guys are doing, and who will stand out.  There just won't be.......

The annual fundraiser for his team happened on Saturday night.  It was amazing.  There aren't words to tell you how great it was to see my boys running around, laughing, getting wet, enjoying themselves and being able to hug all the guys from the team again.  There was such a great feeling among the family and community that came out to support the Gophers, as well as recognize all the hard work put in by the Booster Club.  It really is a class act in Florence.

I asked my mother-in-law if she would walk out onto the football field with me.  I hadn't set foot on the field since the homecoming game last year, where our team won against all odds- for Steve.  The lights had come on, and the sun was sinking behind the mountains.  The air had cooled and the stars slowly beginning to twinkle when my feet hit the grass once more.  I had dragged my feet slightly, making my way across the track, and then took a deep breath and placed my feet on the turf once ruled by my love.

It's different. I hate it.

I feel like Steve and I worked so hard to finally find the place where he belonged, where we could raise our kids; where we belonged.  Florence had become that place for us.  It was not the same Saturday night.  It's not terrible, but so much has changed.  It's not completely my team anymore.  While the boys are Steve's boys and will be forever, what tied us together has changed.  They are still the wonderful players that I have grown to know and love and pray for nightly, but it's almost like the color has been sucked from the grass, and the lights and the noises that once thrilled me- have left me feeling low.

I want my life back.  All of it.

It is selfish and slightly crazy to desire that which can never be and yet I do.  Oftentimes it is late at night when I struggle against what is; and I know that there will be peace some day.  Just not today- and that's okay.

I'm not sure of my place in this world right now.  There is no Steve on the couch, with his laptop on his lap multi-tasking as he worked up schemes and watched Sunday night football.  His hands in constant motion drawing plays, and laughing at the boys.  What am I supposed to do with this?  How am I supposed to let go of 14 years of football, life, love?  Perhaps that's the point.

I can't. Not yet.

This is my game.  It was before I met Steve and before those countless nights as he patiently walked me through the positions of the defense and the offense, then explained to me quietly what an 'I' formation or a 4-3 defense looked like.  I know where the B gap is located, and depending upon the play, who needs to shoot it.  I have a weakness for the defensive line and the offensive line and the thankless job those linemen have.  I am a coach's wife without a coach.  I am half of a whole, and I'm struggling with that.
So- when you see those Friday night lights, and hear the crack of helmets and the whistles blowing, please take a second to pray for my family as we come upon the anniversary of a moment forever marked by the space it has created in an otherwise full life.  Hug your kids, love your spouse and know that there will be a time for overcoming- it's just not yet.

Much love,
Kami

Tricky

This is my new catch-phrase.  It is an encompassing for those emotions that I am conflicted about and not really sure how to express the complexity that I'm feeling inside.

A few nights ago, I posted on Facebook about my youngest son crying himself to sleep over the ache that he feels for his dad.  There are not enough words in the human dictionary to describe the feeling of helplessness, and sorrow and general lack of control.  It was very tricky.  The emotional toll of it left me flashing back to the morning that Steve passed away.  The utter sense of betrayal felt when all that I had ever wanted in my life was not fulfilled- Steve was taken and there was not a thing I could do to stop it.  There is such a profound guilt at being the one here, that I can't even begin to unravel.  These same feelings came flooding back as I wiped tear after tear off of Grant's face and promised him the moon just to help him rest.

This is a window into the world we live.  It is not all drama and sorrow- there are actually moments of joy and triumph.  Parker is standing a bit taller these days as he won an election that he was hesitant to finish earlier last month.  The lack of confidence when the process started to where we are today- it boggles the mind.  He is facing this new found happiness with all the humility a 12 year old can muster and I am thrilled to see the change in his demeanor as he readily sees that nearly all things are possible with a believing heart.

Klarke is now signed up for baseball and has a desire to practice his catching with me.  I find myself bubbling with excitement over the fact that he asked me to practice with him: not his friends, not his brothers....me.  Wow.  Now if I could only cram 2 more hours in the day and eradicate all the mosquitoes we'd be looking great!!

Grant told me the other day that he "wants to be more kind so that he can be loved like dad was."  What 6 year old talks like this?  He is becoming more gentle and compassionate as the days go by and his heart has grown 5 times larger in the past year.  He is acutely aware of my feelings and like his older brothers seeks to protect me from the reality that is ours.  He has wiped my tears from time to time.

On any given night you can find me curled up in my closet, gazing at the clothes that are still on the hangers, touching softly the shoes that once made tread sounds across our tile floors- wishing for something that will never be again in this lifetime.  I'm not sure that it's possible to love as deeply as I do Steve- ever again.  I'm not trying to be dramatic.  It is what my heart has determined to be true as I think about sharing my life with anyone else but him and our boys.  This leads me to my last thought:

I would like to someday meet someone who has the answer to the ache that I feel.  But this is tricky.  How many princesses do you know that met two princes in one lifetime?  When I was younger it was easier to risk my heart, because it wasn't wrapped around three wonderful boys who are my everything, and there was no ache for a best friend that will not come home again in this lifetime.  How do we cross those hurdles, when I can't even bear to walk up to them?  My sources tell me that this means I am not ready to put myself out there, but when I have a son that asks, "Mom, do you think we should find a Stepdad?" I know that it's not just me that feels the missing and has no idea what to do with it.

For now, I suppose we shall let it be tricky.  With time in the day spent being a mother, a teacher, a student, and a crazy lady in the words of Sugar Brown, "Ain't nobody got time for dat!" anyhow.  I want to end this on a positive note: I am one of the luckiest ladies alive.  I have three fellas who wrap their arms around me each day, give me a big kiss on the cheek and whisper that they believe in me- as I believe in them.  I have known and still know the unconditional love of a good man.  I am embraced by family and friendships that uplift and sustain- and I know in whom I trust.  Believe me- things have been worse and the day is beginning to dawn where the happiness outweighs the sadness.  We are well and hope that this finds you searching for the good in your life- so that you may be a strength to others.

All my love,
Kami