People are always pushing me to talk about what I feel. They say you have to let out your emotions, you need to let your kids see that it's okay to cry. Why do you bottle it all up? Well, since you pesky buggers won't leave me alone I am going to break it down for the last time. It will be the same song and dance I have given before but if I dedicate an entire post to it you may get it through your thick ass head...

I am not that girl. Never have been, never will be. I don't like to cry. It makes me feel weak, it does not in any way shape or form make me feel better. I don't want anyone to see that side of me. That emotional side, the hurt side I should say was for Courtney and Courtney alone to see. Sure there were times when I would cry for no damn reason other than the fact that I have a vagina that makes me lose my fucking mind on occasion. In our time together I would dare say he only saw me cry maybe 5 times a year and that is a genorous number. I would say out of those only a handful were breakdown sobbing. He knew me well enough to know when I needed him before I got to that point. He also knew to leave me the fuck alone if I got to that point and when to come at the perfect moment to make it all go away. He never cried because I cried. He never fed me bullshit obligatory lines when I was upset.

Now with him not being here the crying wont solve anything. Here is what happens, I cry. The room goes silent, everyone is uncomfortable, other people start crying and it is just bullshit. I will not take that on. If you cry it is because you are sad, I have no problem with. For me crying is personal. I don't share all of myself with many people. I refuse to show the weak side of myself to anyone who will try to take it on and make it better. There is no way to heal this hurt. There is no way to fill the void that is left in my soul.

As for my kids, if one more mother fucker dares to tell me what to do with them and how to help them get through this I dont care who you are or what you meant to Courtney or I. Every ounce of anger will be unleashed upon you. I am doing everything possible to get them through this. I am doing what I feel is right. They see me cry and we talk about it. They cry and we talk about it. They are seeing councelors about it. I have done all I can to make sure as little as possible has changed in the way we go about our daily lives. Now that would not be possible if I outwardly showed what a wreak I am on the inside. The attention needs to be on them not me. They have also had to take on the burden and I do mean burden of the emotions and opinions of others. So teaching them to smile in the face of grief as a defense doesnt seem so wrong to me. They have had their moments to where they break in front of people and they know they can take that as time to heal with friends or they can walk away and save it for when they have their family. They know how sad I am they see how much it hurts but to see me stop life as they know it would change them for the worse. They already will never be the same. I will not have my constant flow of tears add to that.

So if you are so desperate to see me cry. Come on by in the dark of night when I sit alone with my mind centered on him. Or everyday when I touch something that was his, or smell his cologne after I take a shower. Or when I am in the car and my mind wanders to what we would have been doing or what we would have been talking about. Oh there is always dinner where the kids would run wild and he and I would cook together and now the kids still run wild but I am there alone. The dinner table where we talk about him almost every night.

Just because you dont see tears does not mean for one second that I dont miss him every second of the day. Just because I wont tell you what my real feeling are doesnt mean that it doesnt kill me every morning to get out of bed and go about life as if he is just on a vacation. This pain I feel will never subside, no matter what turns life takes and how much time passes this pain will always be there, I just wont let it define me to you.

It has been awhile. So many things are going on. I can't keep pace. My mind is a fucking mess. I can't find up from down. No really, I am having a hard time putting a coherent sentence together. I have no memory long or short term. Everything is moving at a serious fast-forward and I am stuck on 1/2 time.

Why this havoc is decending I do not know. Am I going crazy? Am I realizing I am not cut out to do all of this alone? Am I to tired and the need for sleep is impending? Am I just now coming to terms with the fact that he is gone? I just want to scream from the rooftops that I don't fucking know.

I am pushing forward but the motions are weak. I am still putting on the happy face but the tears are flowing more often. I am trying to keep up the appearence but failing miserably. I am trying to find the inentive to find a job though you would think the strong possibility of foreclosure would kick me in the ass.

The only way that I can think of to clear my mind is here. More so than the petty sorry for myself posts that usually seep from my mind but more me answering questions that are hurled at me. Me defending my position of why I do what I do. Why even though I may be a wretch of a person I am still better than you. While I live my life the way you dont agree with its okay because each and every mistake I own.

I broke today. I broke my own simple cardinal rule. I have fought long and hard to not break this sacred commandment. I cried and I mean really cried in a very public setting with my kids present. Today was just to much. Every which way I turned, there it was slapping me in the face. Happy families, perfect couples, kids hanging on their dads every word all in all everything I am missing. The day was calm and peaceful until I made my plans for tomarrow which include taking Courtney off the last few things that are in both of our names. #1 had a football game tonight. These are always hard. It just hurts to know this should be a family event. It burns to see all the dads beaming with pride. It aches to have that seat next to me empty. #2 and #3 had a pizza night for their football. The friday before he died we had dinner there, with 4 of the people that were most special to us. Walking in that door took every ounce of courage I had. Sitting there hurt so much. I just couldnt do it. I tried so damn hard to hold back the tears but they just wouldnt stop. I passed off #4 and ran outside. I wanted to throw up literally. I was an idiot. I couldnt stop myself. I was like a child who was crying so hard they can't breath anymore. I finally composed myself and went inside to try to grab the boys and run before the entire team saw the state I was in. No such luck. The stares from everyone told the story that they all knew. I am so ashamed that I lost it in front of the kids, in front of their friends and in such a public place. Now I have to face each and everyone of them tomorrow at practice. At least they all have something to talk about again.

Right back where I started. Fuck the facing reality bullshit I was touting yesterday. I am full well back into my cocoon of denial. It is warm here, it is quiet, it is full of everything everyone else needs which thankfully leaves no time for what I need. This dark corner of a wasted mind is where I will make my bed.

People are still just finding out about Courtney's death. Seriously? We live in a town where people literally gossip about how often so and so took a shit yesterday but you dont hear about an incredible life being snubbed out. It's okay I mean I dont have anything better to do than sit and relive that day for your amusement. No I was just kidding we are just prepping for a REALLY early and involved April fools joke. This is why I dont answer the phone anymore, I am sick of random people finding our phone number and calling. If you hadnt spoke to him since highschool and you now live out of state, I really really do appreciate the call or letters you send but I am not looking to bond over this.

I also went to his grave today. His tombstone is there. Cold, hard stone. White and grey. No sign of the life it represented. His name is there, etched for eternity. He is one the end of the row. In his typical place in life, right where he can see everything that is going on around him, guiding people along their way. The few simple words I was allowed to inscribe were so hard to think of , they seemed meaningful at that moment but now they just seem empty. As if I should have fought for what I wanted but then again I have no idea what that would have been even had I been allowed full reign. Military cemetaries are very strict about how they look. No additions, like pictures or dumb pinwheels or things people seem to like to leave at gravesites. Fresh flowers only in the cemetaries approved containers. I sat, I cried, I spoke to him, I cried some more. It just never seems to end.

Today had such an illusion of normal. Followed the routine. Same routine we have had everyday for years on school days. Things seemed as if it was back to business as usual.

The difference was that I caught myself wondering why he hadn't called on his morning break. Three times during the day I picked up my phone and dialed his number with something to share with him. When getting ready for the gym, I actually went out to the front room to tell him the agenda. I went to bed and forgot to turn off the t.v. in the front room. I caught myself mid-bitch of yelling for him to turn it off and come to bed.

I am not sure what happened to my mind today. Have I turned a corner from constantly grieving to full on denial? Is it possible to be in denial and know you are in it? I am more confused than ever. My mom and her husband sent me an interesting book about moving through the grieving process. I have yet to read the book but the few spot checks I have attempted have shown promise. It has made me think that other than the short paper the Chaplin gave me the day this spiral began I have made no attempt to heal myself. I have made no attempt to face this head-on. I know the time is coming, I can hear it banging on the fortress door. I can feel the cool breath of reality on the back of my neck.

Step one will begin tomorrow. It will be the start of facing his death head on or it will push me further into my corner. I am not sure but it will begin something either way. Tomorrow I am going to visit his grave. His tombstone should be there. The grass should be growing in. It should be a quiet day, no services. I imagine it will be he and I and if I am taking this plunge, his ass better be there too. We shall see...

Avoidance that has been the name of my game in regards to this blog. This week was a week packed full of firsts. I just couldnt face them I just couldnt bring myself to speak of them. The thing is that no matter how I try to side step all of the things Courtney and I used to plan for they still come. All of the things that are inevitable in life still happen. In the end I it comes down to the cold hard fact that my world is stuck at 4:09 a.m. August 4th, 2008, the rest of the world is steadily moving along. Now is the time that either I stay there in that moment dipping my feet into reality for the sake of my kids or I move on with them hand in hand. Of course that is not good enough for me. I wont leave that day. I wont move past it but I will move on with living because I can't just be a witness to their lives. I am their mother and I need to be there with them in all they do.

#1 had his first official highschool football game. I swear I saw Courtney's face smiling down at him. He was so excited to go watch him play. So incredibly proud that he took such a leap outside of his normal self imposed prison and went out for the team.

#4 is finally starting to talk. Still only a word here and there. Nothing regular but each word is another thing that his daddy is missing. He is such a boy now. So few baby traits are left in him, the way he walks, the manner in which he plays it is all so different from 6 weeks ago. He knows when he sees Courtney in pictures to say dada. He smiles and kisses them.

#2 is having a hard time. Trying to find his path. Trying to be his dad but be himself. I see a fire in his eyes, a mix of ambition, rebellion and pure unadulturated anger. I wonder where that will take him.

#3 compares himself, every little thing to his dad. Always questioning what Dad would have thought. What would Dad have said. Always talking about how much he is like him.

I peeled off the scab that has covered my soul and took the boys camping. Raw emotion abounds. They have been begging to go to Courtney's favorite spot. Dillon Beach. We all loved it there and always have a great time. Leaving home was good, leaving the pressures of reality was great, being in a place that held so much of him was spectacular. It felt good to be there with friends that wont judge. To be with friends that were/are family to us. For those that came to give their time to indulge my insecurities of being alone meant so much. The beach was the hardest. We would sit out there and just watch the tides. We would watch the kids, we would dig ridiculous holes in the beach, we would find disgusting forms of dead creatures, we would yet again plan our future. It was so hard to see #4 play and know how badly Courtney wanted to take him there. We just never had the time. We never made the present a priority.

That is the joke that time plays on all of us again and again. It is the never ending banter of person after person getting screwed. Time is never ending. There will always be more time. Problem is the time you are living in is the only time you really have. Time is its own form of life, you cant control it, you cant bend it to your will, you never know when your time is up. But wait dont forget all of the things that are requirements of your time, the must-do's in life. But wait dont forget to go and live your life to the fullest do not wait for the future to fullfill your dreams. But wait...

Today was a day that I faced a great fear of mine. In our lives, in our home the garage was Courtney's domain. Until the day we had a home where he could have a "man cave" that is. Things were organized his way, each and everything in the garage is where he planned for it to be. It was the one place that I had nothing to worry about. I would drop things off that had made their way into the house and he would put them in their place.

There was once that I tried to do him a favor and get things organized while he was at work. Wayne and Jed bore witness to that debacle. The look of sheer terror in their eyes that I dared to touch things in his garage was hysterical. It was nothing to the look that he gave me when he came home, lol. He banished me immediatly. He then snuck inside and gave me the biggest hug and kiss. He said that he loved me and loved how it looked but couldnt lose face in front of his friends. I mean really what man would let his woman put things away in his garage. Then off he went again, I am sure bitched up a storm about how out of line I was.

He was in the middle of cleaning things when he passed. After hosting the memorial and having so many people come in and out and my typical putting things out there it was a mess. He is no longer here to straighten things up. It has been a weight on my shoulders. I didnt want to touch anything that he had put away by himself. I wanted everything just the way he left it. Problem is I knew in the back of my head that I needed to finish what he started. Today I tackled that task. I swept, I moved things, I oraganized. I cleaned out the tool buckets he had packed and ready for work that morning. Everything is in its place. I covered his bike. I tried so hard to think of what he would say if he was to come home and see the garage right now. Everything is sitting and waiting for him. I am so unsure if it was the right thing to do. I feel the weight , it is still there but it has shifted. I havent cried this much in a few days. Funny thing is that they were tears of pure unadultrated sorrow but of how much that damn garage reflects who he was. I swear to you I haven't seen so many of the same tool on the shelves at the home depot. He has tools that were must haves at the moment but I kid you not they are still in the origional boxes unopened. So so many things that I have not a clue what they are and what they do but I know he had a plan for each and everything in that garage. Every inch of this house reminds me of him but being out there is just so much like being with him still. God I miss him. I love him so much.