Not there anymore.

Lately I've felt stagnant and frustrated. Ben has been gone for 17 months, and on the surface there hasn't been any real progression. The three of us are still living with my parents, and I have yet to go back to school. I wonder if I'm grieving fast enough. Am I subconsciously choosing to hold myself back??

But less than 2 weeks ago, I was able to get rid of those wasted emotions.

While in UT, T. Thorpe and I did our usual. ---We went for energy massages from one of my favorite people (then we hit up a health food store, got some soy ice cream & got caught up on our shows. Ha!!). Anyway, I've known this favorite for 5 or 6 years now. And in the more recent months she has tried to remind me of how...okay and "together" I am. Something she said finally stuck with me.

"You've been so hurt, but you've sorted through so much. I know you've been through the, 'It wasn't supposed to be this way.' Feeling angry because you weren't supposed to be a single parent with these girls. I'm sure at one point you didn't even want to exist. You wanted to disappear. But you're not there anymore."

Tears instantly fell. Because even though I never told her, she knew and she was right.

I'm not there anymore.

And so even though I may still have days when I feel overwhelmed and a little defeated, those emotions are of little consequence. Rather I can look at all of those things that may be invisible to everyone but me, and know...I have come a long way.

Where I am right at this very moment is perfect (and obviously not forever).

Stream of Consciousness: Dec

I've been super all-over-the-place lately. Is it obvious?? Soo this will be extra random.

It's so crazy that tomorrow is New Year's Eve already...

I am so so sick of snow. What can be good about anything cold and wet?? Someday I'll move somewhere where it never ever snows, and I'll never ever miss it. I just wasn't meant to live in a cold climate.

Jocee and Sophie have LOVED it this year though. I need to post about that. They are the cutest. Sometimes I wish they'd never grow up. I'm so lucky to be their mom. :) In my limited mommy experience, I've decided that 3 1/2 is my favorite age.

An old friend from high school emailed me today and took credit for that drawing I posted earlier! We still don't remember who The Kid was. But we decided that she drew it during 10th grade English class. I had braces then... Oh, and he had to be in a different grade too. But that's all we got!

I think it's funny how one of my best friends and I weren't even friends in high school. We had a lot of the same classes, and some of the same friends. But coincidentally we probably never said two words to each other. I have this one memory of her telling our 10th grade Biology teacher that her then boyfriend was going to make a six-figure salary once he got his Bachelor's. I thought to myself, "That girl is so not going to be with that guy by then. And he could totally change his major and do something else..." Ha! I have no idea what he does now, but I'm pretty sure I was right.
Love her! She deserves her own post!

I watched "Maid in Manhattan" tonight and cringed the whole time! I still can't believe Ben sat through that. I can't believe I sat through that, or even invited him to watch it with us. I must have looked really cute that night, or something... It makes me happy that, the post gets the most hits. It was the start of a lot of good things. :)

Oh, Christmas wasn't as awful as I thought it would be... I think of how and where I was this time last year, and I shutter. I'm grateful to be one year removed from it.

And really... I know I post about this a lot, but Ben is still the sweetest. I don't care how skeptical most people can be. Those little reminders I always get made December better.


That is all for now.

xo

Stream of Consciousness: Nov

I totally spaced a Stream of Consciousness post last month. But I didn't like what I was thinking about most of that time anyway. Sometimes I think it's dumb to write one. But, whatever. Here's some mind puke!
:)

I feel really quiet lately. Is it obvious?? I feel like my writing skills have plummeted.

I'm really glad this month is over. I'll be really glad when next month is over, too. I keep having flashbacks of where I was last year. In complete shock. The holidays came on so quickly and I was too numb to care.

Call me crazy, but I kind of miss being numb like that. This year I get to be acutely aware of what my new normal is. Ben isn't here (physically), and that will become more and more normal. Yuck. Denial has worn off and reality is raw. There's nothing to shield me from it.

Soo I'm being super lame and listening to emo crap. I used to make fun of people who did that. Like My December.... I don't want it to be December tomorrow... Ha! Gotta snap out of it. Hmmm....something upbeat....

Oh! Thanksgiving was wicked fun (See that?? Hah!). I forgot how much I've missed holidays in New England. And my family is the funniest! I love them so much. :)

I wish my babies weren't sick. They're the sweetest. I love that they are best friends. It makes everything worth it. Sophie is saying the cutest things... I should write a post all about that.



And that's pretty much where my head is at. I'll be better soon.

Love!!

...

I hate the news.... I haven't really watched any since that day. Why couldn't the media have waited just 15 minutes longer, so that the cop could tell me first??

And now when I hear of people passing on, I can't help but feel love and sorrow for the families they have left behind. How their lives are changed, and the grief they face.

I am deeply saddened by yesterday's news. Several friends notified me all at once; ...another small plane crash so close to where we used to call home, and from the same flight school Ben instructed at.

Immediately, I checked news websites to see what I could find. I was sickened to see that the families hadn't been notified yet. I felt helpless for them. I caught myself pacing like I had before, knowing that at any moment hearts would break.

I wondered what they were doing, and so hoped they didn't read what I read. I hoped they had been too busy. I hoped they didn't have to feel that same helpless panic.

My heart especially breaks for the children and spouses that these people leave behind. My thoughts and prayers are with them.

(I don't want this post to come up on a search engine. And I would like to give the families the privacy they so dearly need and deserve. But to understand more click here.)

One Year Ago Today

I attended the sweetest funeral I'll ever go to.

A chapel in Springville, Utah was above maximum capacity. More than 500 people were there. There was a certain measure of comfort in seeing so many pilot uniforms as I walked in.

My only request was a closed casket. I didn't want any memory of Ben inanimate.

His younger brother and one of his best friends centered their talks on his service to others. His sisters and sisters-in-law read that 30th birthday post I wrote, and his "25 random things" FB note. His older brother read Ben's letters to our babies.

It was such a sweet representation of his life. I smiled as I heard people laugh. I knew it's what Ben wanted. I was grateful to be his.

(It could have been perfect if we didn't ask his mission president to close with the Plan of Salvation. Epic FAIL. Annnd if the stake president didn't randomly get up and awkwardly ramble about how he didn't understand why these things happen to good young people. Mood killer. But perfect is unattainable! :))

One year has passed, and a day hasn't gone by that I haven't felt that same gratitude. That sharp, crippling pain may ease, but love remains the same.

The Crash Site

All I wanted to do on the 21st was to go to the crash site. In the days after the crash, the NTSB workers offered to show family members the wreckage. A few people went, but I could not.

I've played that denial card to varying degrees for far too long. And so one year later, I wanted to stand in that very spot at 4:09 PM MST. I wanted to see it for myself, and let reality sink in.

The drive to the airport was sweet. I laughed as I realized none of my makeup was waterproof.

When we got there, I looked at those rocks first. To this day, I don't understand why they are there. It's been explained that their purpose is to reinforce the dirt road. Genius, right?

And then I turned to my left and saw it.

I looked over at runway 3-6 and couldn't help but feel proud of him.
Ben really had been just a few feet shy of a different outcome. He loved when he could "paint the lines" on the runway with his landing gear. He'd post video on FB of those smooth, centered landings. This could have been one of them. But it wasn't.

Sometimes engine failure, a faulty fuel line, an unexpected headwind, and some up-sloped rocks prove to be too much.

I will always be grateful that I was able to go to the site one year later. It was one of those few clear moments in life. Those moments when I knew without doubt that I was supposed to be exactly where I was, exactly when I was there.

And when we got in the car to leave for the cemetery, I couldn't help but smile more...

Forever it's you, forever in me. Ever the same.

21 Oct 2009

(DISCLAIMER: This is long. I won't care if no one ever reads it.)

I've thought about that day, every single day for the last year.

I remember waking up tired, hoping the day would go by fast.

Sophie cried out, "Daddyyyy!" and Ben quickly went to her. I was glad that he did. Getting out of bed was hard. It was cloudy outside, and I didn't like it.

Ben left for work. I gave the girls their baths and breakfast. While they watched cartoons, I quickly mopped the floors.

He came home soon after I had started his laundry. I asked him if he liked the way the new floor cleaner smelled. It was supposed to smell like lavender. He had hated the lemony stuff I was using before. He shrugged indifferently and told me he was going to take a nap.

Later I went upstairs with the first load of clean laundry to put away. He was sitting in bed with the laptop. We smiled at each other while I started folding.

He mentioned that the owner of the offending plane wanted to start flying again.
The plane has just had work done, and it was ready to be flown again.
And so this...gentleman....(whom I have not heard from since)....wanted to fly again.

I sat down at the desktop and quickly responded to a few emails.
He told me I looked cute.
I rolled my eyes.
He just smiled.

I went downstairs and got busy with babies and more Ben laundry. I can't remember most of that day. But I do remember when he left. He came downstairs and put his shoes on. He explained where he was going. He was going to fly the plane from Provo to Spanish Fork and come right home. He told me he'd be back before dinner.

We weakly said, "Bye," as he walked out the door. He'd be home soon.


At 4:00 pm I started feeling agitated. Maybe he was on his way back. I wanted to call him, but couldn't find my phone.

I looked at the clock at 4:12 pm, right before I ran to the bathroom and threw up. I just reminded myself that he'd be home soon. I washed my face and looked in the mirror. I decided some makeup would make me feel better.

By 5:54 pm I decided dinner was going to happen without him. Jocee asked for eggs so I went along with it.

I was in the middle of scrambling when Breaking News came on at 6:00 pm.

Both girls started crying, so I only heard key points.

• Single engine plane crash...
• Provo airport...
• After 4:00 pm...
• Pilot killed....
• No one else on board...
• Believed to be a local pilot...
• People are sad...

• Family needs to be notified.

Quietly I said to myself, "Ben that is not you. You are not leaving me. You're coming home to tell me what that loser did wrong." I wondered if Ben saw the crash. Wouldn't he call me?? All the facts started to sink in. But it had to be wrong.

I gave the girls dinner.
And then I panicked.
I ran upstairs and checked KSL.
What if I was Family? What if this pilot didn't have a name yet because they had to tell me first?

I came downstairs and started pacing. My phone was on the TV stand. I called Ben. No answer.


And then there was the gentle tap on the door.
I opened it, and saw a young cop with a woman to his left.

All I could say was, "My husband is dead."
[His eyes widened as he took a step back.]
"So that thing I just saw is wrong. I'm not the family. He's okay?!"

The cop asked to come in. He never said the words. He just nodded, and apologized. The woman who was with him, explained that she was a grief counselor. She offered to make phone calls for me, but I told her not to.

I called my parents first. (I hung up before they could ask questions.)
Then Ben's dad.
Then his youngest sister.

I was glad she was too shocked to react. Maybe that meant this was all just a sick joke. Everyone would be mad at me when Ben came home. She offered to make the rest of the phone calls for me, and I agreed. I didn't want to hear anyone cry.

Another sister called. She was so hysterical that I couldn't fully understand her. I decided that if she was upset then it had to be real.

I remember so clearly watching several people with tear-filled faces, dressed in pilot uniforms approach the door and come inside. They somberly introduced themselves; some hugged me. They had known 2 hours longer than I did. I wondered why they could cry and I couldn't.

A lot of people came over that night. When most left I tried to cry, but the tears wouldn't start. I wondered if there was something wrong with me. Did it mean I didn't care?

I didn't sleep at all. I couldn't wrap my mind around the concept of Ben leaving mortality. I spent most of that first night in the bathroom. And when I wasn't, I replayed the day's events over and over and over.

I wish I didn't do any laundry.
I wish I cuddled with him instead.
I wish I told him how much I love him and always will.

I wish I stopped him from leaving.
I wish I came up with a reason for him to stay home.
I wish I let the air out of his tires.

I still wish he never walked out that door. He took so much of me with him.

Packing!!

Right now I'm packing to leave for Utah!!

Here's the deal.... Anxiety for this one year mark started building back in August. I had no idea what I was going to do on that day, and being here in MA just didn't feel right. But how could I justify another trip?? I felt stuck (and anxious, and sad).

One night at the end of September, all these weird feelings made sense. Being in Utah would make the day easier. I needed to at least try to plan a trip there.

My parents were more than understanding, and offered to watch both girls so I could go alone. They even told me to go for as long as I could. The next morning, I went online to look at tickets... I found the cheapest tickets to SLC that I have ever seen! (Thank you, Southwest! :))
Coincidence? Heck, no!

So my plans for this 5-day trip will be...

• Traveling kid-free!--I won't even know what to do with myself!
• Seeing good friends. :)
• Time with the little sister. :)
  
• Staying with T. Thorpe.--That means laughing, movies, & soy ice cream will be involved.
• Seeing the crash site for the first time ever.--I feel ready now. Everyone who has, tell me how close he was to the runway and a safe landing. It affirmed his skill level and exactness as a pilot, and I'll get to see it for myself. I'm sure there will be an element of closure.
  
• Seeing the grave marker in person.

All things I really need, and I am deeply grateful I'll get to do them.


Thank you, Bennys! I couldn't have planned it better myself.

Sunday Morning, 18 Oct 2009

The last photo I took...

Ben's Last Post

One year ago, today....
14 October 2009

Some USAF recruiters came to UVU that day. Ben didn't even tell me about this himself. He figured it would be lame, so I found out from a friend (the wife of one of his friends/coworkers).

That morning as he left, I told him to have fun.

When he got home that night he was extra happy. He couldn't stop talking about how much fun it really was. The recruiter had been impressed by how many flight hours Ben had. When he saw how well Ben handled the plane, he let him do extra things.

I loved it. To see him so happy, made me happy too.
It was a good day...


We had no idea there were only 7 days of normal left.

Daddy's Girls, 12 Oct 2009

When he came home from work that day, he played with the girls while I made dinner.

After dinner we watched Monday Night Football on the couch together. (Actually he did while I fell asleep.)

I never thought I'd feel nostalgic for Monday Night Football...

"I just can't believe it."

It's a phrase that I've repeated to myself, countless times throughout these last...11 months, 1 week, and 4 days.

• In the beginning I couldn't believe Fox13, 6:00pm breaking news. Quietly I said to myself, "Ben, that is not you. You are not leaving me. You're coming home to tell me what that loser did wrong."

(Little did I know, this would be the first of many seemingly one-sided conversations.)

• Nine days later I pretended a box was empty.

• Two weeks in, I couldn't believe I was packing his things, and leaving a place we called home.

• One month in, I couldn't believe I was still alive. I was so sure I'd die too... of a broken heart.

• Two months in, I couldn't believe what a bad relocation choice I had made.

• Six months in, I couldn't believe that people who I thought would be an unwavering fixture in my girls lives, are not.

• Seven months in, (and the day after our 6th wedding anniversary) I couldn't believe that trusting the wrong people could lead to so much irreversible damage.

• 10 months in, I couldn't believe he wasn't turning 31.

And right this moment, I just can't believe that October is here again.
I can't believe I will soon have survived a year without him here; especially THAT year.

BUT....

• I can believe my grief counselor, when she tells me how well I'm doing.
• I can believe how amazing it feels to resist that natural pull to be bitter. In so many ways, beauty compensates for the ugly.
• I can believe that I am stronger than I ever gave myself credit for; and potentially stronger than I have yet to realize. (And my intuition is pretty freakin' amazing. :))
• I can believe that Ben still plays an active roll in my life, and helps me in more ways than I can comprehend.
• I can believe that I am a good mother to the two sweetest little girls on the planet.

I can believe that I can do this.

(NOTE: The next post will be more light-hearted. Pinky promise!)

4 Months. 11 Months. Whatever.

11 months in, and I still feel this way...almost.

15 Feb 10

Bennys,

I'm starting to realize that this thing I feel isn't ever going to go away. I can't cry it away. I've tried and it does nothing. That numb feeling only lasts so long before more tears follow.

The thing is... I miss you in ways I didn't know anyone could miss anyone else. For the rest of this life I will miss you. I will always miss you, and love you just as much.

I am so terrified that I will forget the sound of your voice, what it feels like to be in your arms, or hold your hand. And you have the best laugh. I can't laugh as freely without it. Please don't let me forget.

And then I think of what our babies will miss, and my heart breaks again. And you're such a good daddy. I wish I could spare them, but I can't. I can't change what happened on that day. For the rest of this life we will miss you and wish you were here instead. I can't do this without you. I just cant!

But this life will go by fast, right? I'll see you soonish, right?? In the thick of this grief it feels endless. Please don't let me forget.

Love you always,
Ginnys

Over the last 11 months, I've written Ben countless letters. I don't write as much lately. How many times can you tell someone how much you love and miss them, before even you realize that you sound like a broken record?? And besides that, he already knows. I don't really have to tell him...as much.

After reviewing some of those letters, I realized something. Those feelings I expressed then, are felt just as deeply. And they always will be.

In the beginning, one of my best friends told me, "You won't ever get over the grief. You'll just learn how to manage it."
At the time, it was a bleak concept. But now, 11 months in, I understand what she meant.

I still miss Ben. I still love Ben. I still wish this wasn't our reality. And if I could change it, I would. But that initial shock that has lasted so long, is just now starting to lift. In exactly one month, I'll have completed a year. One gut wrenching hell of a year. One year full of numbing firsts.

But there is one difference now...
I can do this.
The 3 of us can do this.

(See you soonish, Bennys!)

When 'Thank You' doesn't feel like enough...

Dear Anonymous,

I don't know how to express the gratitude I feel. Tears well each time I have thought of this. For this situation, words are inadequate.

Thank you for loving Ben. Thank you for being such a good friend to Ben when he was here. Thank you for continuing to be that same friend.

Thank you for loving me, and our little family. Thank you for sparing me the expense. Thank you for affording me the time to get this done, when I could be clear-headed and emotionally ready.

Although my attempt is feeble, please know your generosity will not be forgotten. With all my heart, thank you.

Love,
Ginny

The back story:
In November I started feeling pressure (from Ben's side) to have a marker completed. I found this more than distressing. Denial was serving me well. The mere thought of seeing Ben's name in the ground was enough to elicit a panic attack.

How do you convey someone's life and love on a slab of granite??
How do you represent what they meant to those who love them?
Or the impact they left on everyone they knew?

A family friend who wishes to stay anonymous (to me especially), donated the money to have Ben's grave marker completed. They left it for me to do when I was ready.

In July, I was ready. Remember that Girls' Weekend with T. Thorpe?
The marker was finally set over his grave last week.

More thank yous'...
Thank you to T. Thorpe, for the moral support while I made the last decisions & the photos sent!
Thank you to Lizzie B, for more moral support & the leg work it took to have everything finalized.

'Thank you' really isn't enough.
I'm a lucky girl.

The Heating Pad

So, I have tendinitis in both knees...
My right knee is way worse than my left...
It doesn't bother me often...
But when it flares up, the pain can get pretty intense (occasionally unbearable).

But that's not my point....

Whenever my knees started hurting, Ben would play knight in shining armor and come to my rescue. As soon as I'd tell him, he would make me comfortable on the couch (as if I were helpless). Then he would get the ibuprofen, my favorite juice, and the heating pad.

He would plug that heating pad in, adjust the setting, and wrap it securely and comfortably around the offending knee.

And then he would rent a movie that we would watch together on the couch (mostly his choice). I can't remember what movie we watched last time. But I do remember that my knee felt much better by the end of it.
I remember how grateful I was, too.

Just this week that tendinitis has decided to flare up...again.
But this time I plugged that heating pad in....all by myself...
I went and got my own ibuprofen, and water...

I went back to the couch, and tried several times to wrap the pad just the way Ben used to. Those tears that I'm sick of, started when I realized that I couldn't.

I cried even harder when I realized I forgot a pillow, that there was no guy movie waiting to be watched, and I was sitting on a different couch, in a different house 3,000 miles away from the other.

I only continued to sob when I realized how long it has been. After nearly 10 months I still can't fathom just how final this is.
And I still don't want to.

Last Year....

I remember missing him, and wishing he was home instead.
If I knew how much I'd miss him now, I would have insisted on it.

27

That's how old I'll be this month.

Does that mean that Ben is now only 3 years older than me, instead on 4??
My emotions are mixed.

The day will soon come when I realize that I have been here longer than he got to be. It is all so unjust.

Ben often expressed how excited he was to grow old with me. He wanted nothing more than to watch our girls grow up, and become a grandfather. When Jocee would play with her dolls Ben would always smile and talk about how lucky our grandbabies were going to be; to have such a good little mama.

I never once heard him complain or lament a birthday. He wanted to be here for the girls he loved most.

Titanium

I took his wedding ring out of the box for the first time today.
A wave of emotion overcame me...just like I knew it would.

Ben wore it constantly. He was never without it. And in those rare moments when he did take it off, a perfect tan-line was left behind.

We were married a month when it got it's first scratch. He had been working on the car. At first he was annoyed with himself. But then he looked at me and said, "So what if it gets dinged up? I like it. It just shows that I wear it all the time, and that I like being married to you."

And so for the first time, I held it in my hands and studied all the little marks; 5 years, 5 months, and 4 hours worth of wear.
Too short.

I can't help but want to hand it back to him. I want him to put it back on, so he can cover that silly tan-line. There should be more scratches, more stories, more memories.
I want it all back.

And tomorrow, he would have worn it for six years.
Six years is too short.

I want my Love back.
I want my life back.
I want it all back.

Still in My Head

A memory has haunted me.
I've cried myself to sleep more times than I'd like to admit.
But it's one I hope to never forget, and so I'll put it here.

6 April 2007


Neither of us had slept the night before.
Ben was too excited to meet the third member of our little family.
I had spent the night wishing, hoping, and praying for spontaneous labor. I had tried everything and this baby wasn't coming out on her own. A c-section was certain.

When we got there, he wanted to take one last picture of my profile with my enormous belly. He told me to smile, and laughed as he snapped the photo. (I now understand why. Despite my efforts, I couldn't mask the look of terror on my face.)

Why wouldn't my body just do what it was supposed to?
Was I taking the easy way out?
Was this a big mistake?
What if I waited just 7 more days?
Ugh, did I really have to wear that frumpy hospital gown?

I remember watching Ben put on his haz-mat attire, thinking he had this so easy. I envied him. Why did he get to have a baby without needing to undergo some sort of surgery, too?

Walking into the OR felt like walking death row. They wouldn't let Ben go in with me. All I wanted was for him to be the one holding my hand while they finished prepping me.

And then Ben walked in and sat in a chair near my head. He cupped my face in his hands. He told me that the curtain was too low as he leaned in next to me, and rested his cheek next to mine; left hand still stroking my right cheek.

The surgery started and then I heard the Doctor say, "Ginny, are you ready for this?! You're going to be a mom real soon!"

And then we heard what we had waited for; our baby's first cry. It was strong and clear and more beautiful than we could have ever imagined. Simultaneously we started crying together. Ben wet my face with his tears as he quietly repeated, "Mama! That's our little girl! She's our little girl!"

I heard one of the nurses call out, "She looks good! She's really cute! 8 pounds, 11 ounces!!"
The other doctor said, "That's what I was going to guess when we got her out. 8, 11..."
My doctor reassured me, "Ginny, that was the best decision you could have made."

And then Ben was sitting in that chair next to me, holding Jocelyn, and still weeping tears of joy. I remember him saying, "She is so beautiful. You did such a good job, Mama. Thank you for our little Jocee."



Ben continued to hold Jocee for nearly the remainder of that day. He left the hospital only to sleep, and stayed with us for the majority of our stay.
I couldn't have asked for a better daddy for our girls.

3 Years Ago, Today...

One of my top 3 favorite days...

At 9:46 am, Ben and I became parents for the first time.
We shared tears of joy as we heard our first baby's strong, beautiful cry.

Thank you, Benny.
Thank you...for giving me 2 healthy, perfect babies.
Thank you...for always being such a loving, dedicated, protective daddy.
Thank you...for being the reason, and biggest part of my sweetest memories.
Thank you...for being mine, forever.