The Times They Are a-Changin'....Bob Dylan

My mind is blank and I truly have no idea what to write at this point, except this will be my last post on this blog.

One of my very favorite pictures, fishing on the
Kvichak while staying at Blueberry Island Lodge.
We had a blast and came home with 16 sockeye.
It was awesome.

The past few months I struggled with differentiating the grieving process from depression. Oftentimes I wondered if I was actually grieving or if perhaps I was "playing the victim".  Either way, I did not like it.  It took a rather crazy two week vacation for me to realize it was grief and that I am not only ready to move on, but I need and want to move on.  Please do not misunderstand me as I will miss Sam for the rest of my life.  In order for me to maintain my sanity, though, I need to make a change.  Writing this blog seems to hold me back from moving on, mostly because of the title.  Therefore, I will begin a new blog for the new chapter in my life, only I do not yet know what the title will be.  Rest assured, when I figure it out, I will post a connection to it on here so you can find me (if you so choose, of course.)  If you have any suggestions, feel free to share your ideas with me.

Writing is very therapeutic for me and I thank each and every one of you for reading my blog.  The support you gave me (and Sam!) has been phenomenal.

q'ua

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. Anatole France

Yes, it is definitely time for a change.  Just do not know what, how, or when.  So please do not ask me because I do not have an answer.  Yet.  Might be tomorrow, might be next week, month or even year.  But change will occur.

The Broncos look awesome.  I need to pick a new favorite player since my man crush Eric Decker defected.  How could he?

q'ua

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” ― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Each night for the past month, I contemplated writing something in my blog but the words just did not come.  I still do not know if I can explain what I am experiencing and all the feelings and emotions flowing through me, but because I am a mess and have been for a few weeks, I need to write.  Hopefully writing will prove to be therapeutic.

Last year during this time, I knew Sam's death was quickly approaching. Sam's home healthcare aide and hospice nurse visited daily so I continued to work at the office as much as possible and work from home when necessary.  Nights, when I needed to rest, I was unable to get a lot of sleep as Sam went back and forth between being present with me and starting to move on to the next life.  Some nights two - three hours of sleep were a gift.  Between the exhaustion and the grieving, I became numb.  Yes, I cried and when I did, it was intense yet it did not last for long.  (By the way, external tears are considered mourning, grieving is internal.) When Sam passed, although I cried and experienced a deep intense and emotional pain nothing like anything I ever experienced before, his death was a relief because his suffering was so awful.  

The week after Sam returned home from the hospital.  He
was restless and decided to clean the silverware drawer.

Fast forward to now.  July I spent our birthdays with friends and each day was wonderful in its own way.  Work is busy, as usual.  Yet, I am feeling restless, or perhaps frustrated, or something I just do not know what.  I feel ready to be done with this grieving process but yet unable to shake it.  The past two weeks I have felt extremely fatigued and have cried every single night and lots of mornings and many moments inbetween.  On top of all that, I find myself reliving everything Sam and I went through at this time last year.  Perhaps I am just now able to process everything, I do not know, but memories of all kinds are popping up in my mind as the last few weeks of his life were extremely intense.  Or, perhaps I am once again experiencing anticipatory grieving as the one year anniversary of Sam's death draws closer.  Just that thought alone brings fear because everything I read tells me that the second year is the worst.  Oh boy.  I can hardly wait.  This is when the frustration level increases because I really do want to be done with this grieving thing, almost makes me wish there was a magic pill or something to hasten the process.  

Plus, it is summer.  Fishing, hiking, berry-picking...although I continue to do these things, it is not as often as before.  As one friend noted earlier this summer, Alaska is really a "partner-state" because it is not safe to be out in the Alaska wilderness without a buddy and Sam was that buddy and partner and frankly, it is not the same without him.  ARGH.  I embrace change, but not the transition period, especially this one.  

Now fall is quickly approaching and in our house, fall is for football!  The Ducks and the Broncos are once again picked to do really well this year and Sam should be here to watch all the games with me.  My heart breaks when I think about all the things we wanted to do and never had the opportunity.  I often wonder what life would be like if Sam were alive and healthy.  How many Broncos' games would I be able to talk him into going to?  Would we have that off the grid cabin he so desperately wanted and I was not excited about but now would give anything for?  How many animals would we have?  Would he be training for the Iditarod as it only took us one day of sled dog mushing and we were both hooked?  So many what ifs.

As I proof read this, I realize my thoughts are still all over the place and I am rambling, but I ramble often and I ramble well and right now, I do feel better.  Sort of.  I ask that you do not feel sorry for me as this is part of life, unfortunately, something you are all going to experience at some level or another.  I beg you to understand and appreciate that grief is something that you feel deep within, you cannot put a finger on, cure with words, describe accurately, or just flat out tell to go away.  It is an experience like none other and I have to allow myself to go through it, no matter how much I do not like it.  

Thank you all for being a part of my recovery from this awful, crazy, insane, rollercoaster ride called grief and moving on with this thing called life.

q'ua

Happy Birthday to me.

Checking out the view along the Ptarmigan Lake trail.

Today while sitting at my desk, staring at Sam's picture, I realized once again that I did not really want to go home.  In years past, I looked forward to the awesome presents Sam gave me (ok, not all the gifts were awesome, some were very questionable but that is another discussion for another day.)  Tomorrow my awesome gift will be celebrating with my book club girlfriends.  Each and every day I thank God for them.

Next week is Sam's birthday (yes, I am a week older than him!)  I have been bracing myself for that day for quite some time.  Fortunately, a dear friend from home who also knew Sam will be here visiting me with her family.

July is a month of celebrations as our anniversary is the 31st.  That evening I will be having dinner with three great friends I met through work.

This is how I know Sam is still taking care of me, by making sure I am not alone on important days to us and am with friends whom I love and care for dearly and who do the same for me.  My heart still aches for him, though, 24/7.

q'ua

We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot. Eleanor Roosevelt

Memorial Day came and went without me writing my thoughts, so here they are now albeit somewhat delayed.

As you know, Sam served in the US Navy for six years, mostly on a nuclear submarine yet not during "war time."  During his service, Sam came into contact with asbestos, probably more times than anyone is even aware.  Thankfully, three years after Sam's lung cancer diagnosis and a little over one year of his application for VA disability, the Navy took full responsibility for the lung cancer.

Sam plotting our hike along Trail Lake,
Memorial Day weekend 2010.

Memorial Day is a day created to honor those who died while serving.  Although Sam had long since left the military, his death was due to his time serving our country.  Therefore, I believe Sam should be among those honored on Memorial Day.  In fact, anyone and everyone who served and then died due to injuries or disease related to their service should be honored, in my mind.  They also gave their lives for our country, not just those who lost their lives while serving.  I realize this is only my opinion but believe me, it is a strong one.

Slowly I am confronting a fear I discovered deep within me a week or so ago.  Or rather, I knew it was there I just did not want to deal with it nor am I saying I am ready to do so now, either.  Grief does funny things to people and one of the things it did to me (and it is quite normal) is make me feel like putting Sam's things away, cleaning out his closet, or even giving some of his belongings away would somehow make his memory also go away.  Common sense tells me this is not true, but there is something inside me insisting it is true and is what will happen.  I find this fear extremely difficult to overcome and I keep telling myself to just do it (whatever it is I am thinking about doing at the time).  Then I wonder if perhaps I am just procrastinating and taking the easy way out by just not doing anything.  Oh my word, I might drive myself nuts going back and forth like this.  At the same time, I know this thought process is completely normal but that certainly does not make it any easier to get through.  Instead, I just sleep, eat, work, and fish and not in any special order.  Eventually, I will work through this.

In the meantime, fish on!

q'ua

"Grief is love turned into an eternal missing” ― Rosamund Lupton, Sister

Halfway point - 50 miles - South Denali Viewpoint
Myself and some other members of the Glass Half Full team

This last Saturday I rode in my first century ride (100 miles) on a bicycle in the Alaska Clean Air Challenge, a fundraiser for the American Lung Association.  The emotions sweeping through me during the ride amazed me, startled me, saddened me, and sometimes just completely caught me by surprise.  The sense of accomplishment overwhelmed me when I found myself wanting to find Sam and celebrate with him.  When I realized I could not do that, I felt a sense of extreme sadness just sweep right over me.  Luckily the exhaustion also kicked in and I only had enough energy to eat, sit through the award's presentations and head to bed.  Sunday morning I saw a good friend of ours who lives in Talkeetna who, along with his wife, was one of the last people to see Sam outside of our home. And what did I do? I promptly burst into tears.  Fortunately, he understood and got me through my moment of intense grief.

We did it!  The members of the Glass Half Full team
who completed the century ride. What a great day!

Previously I spoke of summer coming on.  I find myself not really dreading it, but not being all that excited about it, either.  Alaskans turn into crazy 24/7ers when summer arrives. Sam and I hit the ground running and never stopped when we arrived 6 years ago this month and became instant Alaskans.  My playmate is gone.  Yes, there are many friends I can do things with and while I appreciate them greatly, it is not the same no matter how hard they try.  Sam was my playmate for 10 awesome summers and no matter what, it is never going to be the same.

Grief is such a strange emotion to experience and it is definitely not enjoyable.  I wish it would end but it never will until I see him again.  Yet, I continue to live each day to the best of my ability.  I laugh, cry, ride my bike, hang out with friends, take care of Sweet Pea, stare at the magnificent Chugach, work, campaign for equal rights, cheer on my teams, make plans with my family and friends, and lots of other things just to keep moving forward.  Often all I want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep the time away.  Every once-in-awhile I do, but that is exhausting as well and definitely not very productive or fun.  I wonder, too, if grief is ever going to leave me alone. Just this week, a dear friend of mine lost her husband after a long battle with cancer, and a relative is in the process of watching the love of his life slowly slip away, also from cancer.  Knowing what they are facing brings it all back to me.  The hardest part is that I know there is absolutely nothing I can do to ease their pain or take their pain away. They just have to go through it like I did and am. I will say it again...it really sucks.

Glass Half Full Team Car

The Glass Half Full team member who designed our team t-shirt decorated her car as well in an awesome show of team spirit!  I am very grateful for my friends who rode with me and for all of you who supported us.  Although we came nowhere near the top fundraising team, we are currently in fourth place (past two years we were first!) and are continuing to take donations through June 2. Here's the link:  http://action.lung.org/goto/djglass.

Thank you, again, everyone for everything.

q'ua

Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Gilda Radner

Camping at Ptarmigan Campground

Camping is just around the corner and I am looking forward to it with both dread and anticipation.  Sweet Pea and I did manage to go once in late September last year by ourselves, but since it was a working weekend I was too busy to focus much on the fact that Sam was not with me.  It will be interesting to see how this summer goes.  No matter what, though, Sam's presence will be missed, especially when I have to do EVERYTHING!

This past week was a stark reminder that Sam is gone when I learned about Windows XP no longer being supported on, of course, the last day.  If Sam were here, he would have had it figured out and our laptop taken care of and I would have been almost clueless anything had happened.  As it stands now, depending on how I decided to handle the situation, I will probably have to take a day off from work to upgrade to Windows 7 because I certainly do not want to use my weekends for that!

Earlier this month, my parents and I returned to John Day to celebrate the life of a wonderful man and dear friend to my family.  Being there for the first time since Sam's service was a bit difficult, in fact, more so than I anticipated.  I wish I could put into words the range of emotions I felt over the three days we were there, but it is just too much.

Each day I am recognizing that more than anything, I am changing, becoming a different person than I have ever been before.  The interesting thing is that this change is being brought about not by something I chose, but by something that chose me.  Therefore, I have no idea where this is going to lead me and all I can do is go along for the ride and make the most of it.  People who are grieving are often encouraged not to make any major decisions for the first year and I can certainly understand why.  I have never had a problem with making decisions, and now decisions, no matter how big or small, are major undertakings.  It is exhausting!

Many of you have been asking if I am prepared for my 100 mile bike ride on May 10.  I am training and if all goes according to plan, I will be ready.  The fundraising, though, is going very slow, mostly because I have not been as focused on it as in the past.  So, now is your chance!  Here is the link and please know I greatly appreciate any amount, small or large, as it all makes a difference.  http://action.lung.org/goto/djglass

q'ua

The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance. Alan Watts

Plunge into it.  A couple weeks ago I began going through Sam's closet with no real goal in mind other than to at least begin sorting through things.  There is a constant fear of with each item I remove, a little bit of Sam goes with it.  Although one part of my brain tells me his memory will always be with me, another part tells me holding onto the tangible things makes it even more so.  

This grieving thing is really no fun at all.  In all other aspects of my life, I am very happy which makes the grieving even more difficult.  The loneliness which goes with it is simply indescribable.  At various times I have attempted to describe it to others and most people do not understand, although there is always a valiant attempt - mostly it is "well, I would go do this or that with you..." which is very kind but that is not the issue. The loneliness is from my life partner no longer being here in person.  Sam and I each had roles to play in our marriage, little things like he would pick out the vegetables at the store while I hit the dairy aisle. Or, big things like cooking.  He cooked, I ate.  Worked out very well for the both of us.  Do not get me wrong, I was single for a long time and know what it is like to do things on your own.  But when you have a partner, you seem to be able to do more, and now, I do everything alone again.  Eventually I will figure out what things I want to continue doing and what things I do not.  It is all a process but it really sucks.  There is just no other word for it. 

Sam at the 2011 Iditarod start in Willow.

Speaking of cooking, sourdough pancakes were one of Sam's specialties and this morning I made my own for the very first time ever and I have to admit, I impressed myself.  Sam would have been proud!  He made a starter when we first moved to Alaska and it has been going strong ever since. I do have to remind myself to check on it weekly (another of those "Sam" chores I inherited.)

 

In case you are unaware, the Iditarod is well underway and is on a record setting pace.  Aliy Zirkle, you go girl.  If Sam had been healthy, we would have been very involved with the race, definitely volunteers along the route.  Maybe I still will be, but not be for awhile.  Just is not the same.

The Alaska Clean Air Challenge is now 2 months away and my fundraising efforts are not what they should be!  So I just might become shameless in my efforts.  Please consider either joining the Glass Half Full team and riding with us or contributing to my personal fundraising in memory of Sam.  Click here to do either:  http://action.lung.org/goto/djglass.  I have a long way to go to reach my goal and any contribution, no matter how big or small will make a huge difference in the fight against lung disease.

Merna, fishing is right around the corner!

q'ua

Tonight is a little bittersweet for me. Sam and I did not celebrate Valentine's Day, instead we celebrated on the 15th because that is the day we "reconnected."  Today would have been the 10th anniversary of that day. Over the years we had some pretty wild adventures and some fairly disastrous ones as well - like in 2007 when we went to Tahoe skiing. First good snow of the year, first run of the day, almost to the bottom and lucky me caught an edge and managed to completely tear my ACL.  I won the wife of the year award that day because I told Sam to keep skiing knowing what a pain in the you know what he would be at the clinic whining the entire time about not being able to ski! The ski patrol could not believe it when I told him to just go on. But it was the right move, believe me!

Not wanting to stay home for three days, I decided to do something. Every winter since moving to Alaska, Sam and I rode the train between Anchorage and Fairbanks. So that is what I am doing this weekend. It is a stunning trip and if you have never done it, you really should.

This week I cried many more tears than I thought I ever would.  Sam was, is and always will be the love of my life.  He is my Valentine.

Anyway, tomorrow I will catch the train back to Anchorage after flying up to Fairbanks earlier today. It will be amazing as always, I am certain of it.

Enjoy your weekend - get out and do something!

q'ua

I've experienced the highest of highs and lowest of lows. I think to really appreciate anything you have to be at both ends of the spectrum. John Elway

Today four good teams played some amazing football.  Of course, my Denver Broncos won their game and that made the day very special.  Sam would have truly enjoyed both games, especially since while growing up the 49ers was his favorite team, he liked the Seahawks as an adult and then became a Broncos fan when he married me.  We were known to periodically yell for the Patriots, too, since there are a couple Oregon Ducks on the team.  The super bowl is going to be just like old times, the Broncos vs. the Seahawks, before the Seahawks went to the NFC.  Tonight I am trying to figure out how I can wear something Broncos-related to work every day until the super bowl without "breaking the rules".  Not sure that I can so I might have to do some shopping!

Courtesy of the Denver Broncos official webpage.

Life is good right now.  Work continues to be extremely busy so I do not have much time to think about things, but even so, I do not think I would be experiencing life any differently than I am now.  Every minute of every day I think of Sam but I do not have the emotional outbursts as often as I did before Christmas.  Now I am focusing on forcing myself to make decisions on my own and needless to say, I am struggling with that.  A couple weeks ago I mentioned this to a friend who promptly offered to play Sam's role in my decision-making process but...well...although I greatly appreciate the offer, it is just not the same.

Alaska's Lung Association Clean Air Challenge is set for May 10.  This year will probably be my last year of heavy fundraising for this event so I encourage you to either support me personally or come join the Glass Half Full team and ride with us.  You can find details here:  http://action.lung.org/goto/djglass.  And yes, I will continue to ride and support the Clean Air Challenge, I just will not be fundraising like a madwoman.

Now, off to do a snow dance because we need snow!

q'ua

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love. - Washington Irving

Happy New Year to all of you!  Never before have I been so grateful to have the new year come around.  As I told a friend tonight, the days between Thanksgiving and Christmas were downright awful and I am so very glad to have the holidays over with.  Thanksgiving and Christmas, the actual holidays, I spent with family which made both days much easier to deal with.  It was rather odd that I found myself feeling okay on each of those days, yet not so much on the days between the two.  I wonder what next year's holidays will bring?

Sam at the Iditarod Restart, 2012.

Each day I work hard to move forward without Sam and the struggle at times seems more than I can handle.  Then, I remind myself I am a survivor, I know I can do this, but it certainly does not mean I am happy about it.  I miss him more than I can even begin to put into words. The grief is a deep black hole within me that generates more pain than I ever imagined.  Some days it takes all my energy to just breath, let alone function.  Yes, I am burying myself in my work.  That is what I do and how my mind and body function.  I am okay with that if doing so is going to get me through this time.

Looking at pictures of him smiling make me smile, so I spend a lot of time doing that.  It truly makes me feel better.

Sweet Pea and Shadow still have not worked out their relationship.  She hisses and he chases her as a pay back.  Hopefully one of these days I will come home and they will be best buds.  It took Rocky and Sweet Pea a year to come to terms with each other, so I have to remind myself to be patient!

For those of you who wondered, yes, I wanted Oregon to beat my 'Horns.  Mack Brown is a great coach, but he should have done like John Elway and gone out while he was still on top several years ago.  Just my opinion.  Speaking of my Broncos, I do hope it is the Seahawks we meet in the super bowl.  It would seem just like old times!  My second choice is the Niners, just so you know. Just hope the right Broncos team shows up for the playoffs.  I did see the schedules for next year and the Broncos are coming to Seattle.  Guess what is now on my calendar?

q'ua

“When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time—the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes—when there's a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she's gone, forever—there comes another day, and another specifically missing part.” ― John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany

The past couple of weeks, for whatever reason, have been more difficult than any others so far.  I do not share this with you for your sympathy, but for your understanding.  It is challenging to find the desire to write because all I really want to do is curl up in a hole somewhere and cry a good hard long cry.  The only problem is that I fear I would not be able to stop and I would just continue crying.  My heart hurts more than it ever has.

Sam during our  2012 winter trip to Lowell Point in Seward.

Work is very busy and tonight, as I sat at my desk finishing up a project, I realized I was alone in the office - everyone had already left for home.  It suddenly occurred to me I did not want to go home to my empty condo because Sam is not there.  I could not hold back any longer and so I sat at my desk sobbing hysterically for about 15 minutes, hoping and praying at the same time that no one would see me like that.  Now I am home and the tears continue while I beg God one minute to take care of Sam and the next begging Him to bring Sam back, all the while wondering how much more of this I can take.

As a friend noted over Thanksgiving, grief is a place that unless you experience it yourself, you truly do not understand.  I wholeheartedly agree.  It is a process which slowly I am working my way through while at the same time knowing it will always be there.

It is snowing and absolutely beautiful outside.  Although I know Sam is here with me in spirit enjoying it, I would rather he were here in person.  I need him.

q'ua

Just realized I better explain myself even further.  When Sam passed, I put his wedding band on to wear with mine, promising myself I would always wear as it was a part of him. It was a daily reminder for me of how much he truly loved me.  However, the only way it stayed on my finger was to wear it over my band with my diamond holding it in place. I realized right away it was not a smart move to wear it but I could not bring myself to let go of it.  Finally, Monday I decided I just needed to make myself do it, which I did.  Interesting thing is, once I made the decision to not wear it any longer, my memories of him changed, becoming much warmer (for lack of a better term), perhaps more clear in my mind's eye.  The guilt at first of not wearing it any longer almost made me put it back on, but I told myself I really do have to find little ways to move on. Removing his band is just one very small step in that direction.  As to whether or not I will ever remove my own wedding band, as of right now I say no.  Tomorrow may be a different story.

q'ua

“It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.” ― Rose Kennedy

This morning I woke at 3:30, completely freaked out from a dream I had about Sam.  Took me all day to realize what the problem is and that is today marks 13 weeks since he passed, tomorrow is the 3 month mark.  My ability to compartmentalize the pain is sometimes too effective!  That all being said, today I chose to stop wearing his wedding band.  The first few minutes of not having his band on my finger were a bit odd, I felt a huge pang of guilt, and then I forced myself to stop thinking about it and just move on.  Day 1 is over and I am ok with my choice.

Last weekend Sweet Pea (the cat) and I adopted a new cat to replace Rocky.  Now, instead of being lonely, Sweet Pea is spending her time hissing to make sure the new cat knows who is boss.  And yes, we have yet to name the little guy.  Perhaps you have some ideas?  He is pure black, about 3 years old and is extremely friendly.  He is beginning to chase after Sweet Pea and it is hilarious because now she takes off running.  Turn about is fair play!

These pictures are from our trip to Eagle, Alaska, July 4, 2010.  It is located on the Yukon River and became one of our favorite places in Alaska.  The people are so friendly and we had a great time.  Eagle is a 13 hour drive from Anchorage, most of which is on a gravel road, better known as the Taylor Highway, Anchorage to Tok to Chicken to Eagle.  Immediately upon arriving we were invited to the community potluck so off we went.  Just like home!  Luckily we brought lots of carrots and celery with us to eat so we took them as our contribution.  The residents told us next time to load up our truck with watermelons because they would buy them and we would be able to pay for our trip.  In other words, fresh fruits and veggies are hard to come by there being so far from grocery stores.  Yes, there is a very small community store but the selections, not to mention the prices...ohmigosh. Eagle's 4th of July celebration is awesome.  Trap shoot across the Yukon, softball tournament, parade (I am pretty certain all 200 residents were in the parade), crafts fair, and a water dunk contest along with the community potluck.  Fun times to be had by all!  Unfortunately, we ended up leaving quickly on Sunday night when the thunderclouds started forming.  Being from eastern Oregon, we knew what they meant, so we hightailed it out of there about 10pm.  We were very lucky as the storms were very bad, the road washed out and was not repaired until the following year.  I am looking forward to going back, maybe even in the winter to experience the 30 below weather.  Ok...maybe not...but maybe...

q'ua

“The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. It felt like losing your co-rememberer meant losing the memory itself, as if the things we'd done were less real and important than they had been hours before.” ― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

Nothing like marking time.  First in days, then weeks, and soon...in months, followed by years.  The two month mark came and went the other day and as I commented to a couple friends, it seems like time has flown by, yet the moments of grief seem to creep by and I wonder how long they are going to last because the pain is deep, intense, and sometimes literally doubles me over.  Thankfully I know those will ease in due time as well.

I have been staying busy, traveling to see family and friends, watching football, having heart attacks over my Denver Broncos (HELLO?!?!?!?!), and most importantly, hanging out with Sweet Pea.  She continues to walk around at night crying, searching each and every room when I get home from work looking for Sam and probably Rocky.  Makes me very sad I am unable to tell her they are not here, yet I often wonder if she is able to see and hear things I am not because she certainly acts it sometimes.  Then again, this is Sweet Pea aka Little Turd we are talking about.

One thing I discovered is the amount of paperwork which keeps appearing is simply absurd.  For awhile it seemed like for every document I completed and submitted, five more appeared. And just when you are sure you are done...well...all I can say is, do not get too cocky.  Just today I found two more documents I need to complete and reminded myself of another item on the to do list I have been putting off.  Plus, I am still working on thank you notes for all the flowers, donations, cards, food, and everything else everyone did for both Sam and I. It is going to take awhile, mostly because my motivation level just is not what it used to be.  Eventually it will return.  

Also today a colleague voiced concern about me coming home to an empty house every night. I found myself telling her that it is okay because I just truly do not feel like being very social right now.  Like I mentioned before, I am staying very busy, but it is just me, or just me and Sweet Pea.  It is difficult to explain and I do not want anyone thinking I am sitting around feeling sorry for myself and crying my eyes out because that is not the case.  Mostly I just do not feel like talking to anyone, although I am always pleased when friends or family call even if I do not answer.  From what I understand, this too shall pass.  It is just part of the grief cycle and I have to let myself go through it. Book club is this weekend as is the Breath Easy Breakfast, so I will be getting out and about with my girlfriends and I am really looking forward to both events.

More than anything, I miss making memories with Sam.  People keep commenting on how much we crammed into the time the we had together.  We truly did a lot and created a boat load of memories.  Unfortunately, I am the only one enjoying the memories, yet I am so very grateful I have them and no one can take them away from me.

Plus, I think Sam is standing on the Oregon sidelines, if you know what I mean.  I am sure God and he had a long talk about how it is high time his Ducks won the BCS.

q'ua

A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night, and in between does what he wants to do. Bob Dylan

I am told the pain lessens as time goes by. In fact, I know it does.  Just wish time would hurry up. Each day I miss Sam just as much as the day before.  How I handle it, though, improves each day.  I could ramble on and on about how much I miss him, so I will not bore you with that.  Just suffice it to say, every day is subtly different, not easier, just different.  There is an overbearing sadness within me yet I do my best to focus on happiness.  It is not only what I want but what Sam would want as well.  Make the most of each and every day...it is what we all should be doing

Tomorrow is a new day and I cannot wait to see what it brings.

q'ua

Perhaps they are not stars in the sky, but rather openings where our loved ones smile down to let us know that they are happy. Eskimo proverb

Today marked four weeks since Sam passed.  It almost seems surreal to me.  Several times throughout the day I find myself wanting to text him to tell him something or ask his opinion or just to say hi.  Each time it almost startles me to realize he is not here anymore.  I do still talk with him, though.  If I listen closely, he does respond...or at least, that is what I chose to believe.

Slowly I am responding to all the flowers, plants, cards, emails, calls, and texts I received from all of you.  The support I received is almost overwhelming and deeply appreciated.   My family (Glass and Evans) received a great amount as well.  Thank you for your kind thoughts, words, and prayers.  The two celebrations of life proved to be very different, each providing a closing to various chapters of Sam's life as well as a celebration of his passing on to the next.

For all of you wondering, I am staying in Alaska.  Sam and I became Alaskans the minute we crossed the state line.  It is our home.

As to what is going on behind these closed doors?  Well, his clothes are still in the closet and dresser.  One of his Oregon sweatshirts is still draped over the back of a dining room chair, right where he left it.  His shoes are still tossed in a corner in the bedroom. Many things are still in the same place as they were before.  Yesterday I made my first Costco run in two months and I also did laundry for the first time in a couple weeks, both of which forced me to put some things away or move them around.  I have no idea how long I will keep his things with me, but I will not be doing anything with them until I am ready and not a minute before.

If I sound angry, I guess I am a little bit because those questions were asked of me in the first week he was gone.  I admit, I was caught by surprise.  Everyone grieves differently, though, as well as survives differently.  For me, it gives me strength to have Sam's things around me, makes me feel like he is still here with me.  I talk with him every morning and every night and it makes me feel good.  One of these days I might wake up and decide today is the day to give his clothes away, but then again, it might not ever happen.  I just do not know so I am just taking it one day at a time and doing the best that I can, continuing, and building upon, the life we built together.

Admittedly, it does help that my Denver Broncos are kicking butt.

q'ua

Imagine that, how sweet it'd be To have you here again with me Oh lord, I wish I had you back But all I can do is imagine that. "Imagine That" lyrics by Don Williams

Tonight one of our friends posted this on Facebook and it was the first thing I saw when I logged on.  It truly is the only thing I can do.  My heart hurts in ways I never thought it could.  Yet, sometimes it seems like it is all a dream.  Sam should be here with me, taking the trailer out for one last weekend, camping in the rain, getting ready for football, wondering if there is going to be termination dust on the peaks when the clouds finally rise, and every other little thing I am now doing alone.  Yes, I truly believe he is here with me as my angel, but I want to be able to reach out and touch him and that is not possible.  Evenings, nights and weekends are the hardest because those are the times I spent exclusively with Sam.  Most of the time, there are no tears, just an aching pain that will ease with time but more than likely will never go away.  I do not want anyone to feel sorry for me, I just want people to understand that just because I am not in tears does not mean I am not grieving. Sometimes the tears come suddenly and quite unexpectedly and other times, I am prepared for them because I am learning what triggers them.  Tonight as I left our "adopted Alaska parents" house, I felt tears because Sam would have had so much fun with them this evening.  I know he was there in spirit, though, because I felt his presence several times throughout the evening.  

q'ua

Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there's a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see. Helen Keller

For Sam, passing from one room to another means he is no longer in pain and suffering.  For several days prior to his peaceful passing, he struggled mightily against the pain he experienced.  I cannot tell you what it did to my heart and soul to watch and to listen to his battle.  At times I could not bear it, nor could anyone else around, Brian, our pastor Ron, and others.  Many many thanks to our friend, Dr. Mike Kirkham, who provided me the guidance necessary to work with hospice and request the things Sam needed.

Personally, I am doing pretty good.  As I have mentioned to many people, Sam and I have had four years to grieve and prepare for this.  No, it does not make it any easier, but the grieving is not as intense.  Yesterday I had several "moments" as my mother refers to them, but to me, that is to be expected.  I allow the moment to happen, experience it, and move on.  More than likely these will continue to happen to one extreme or another for the rest of my life.

I miss Sam more than I can put into words.  My life consisted of Sam, the cats, work, and a little bit of me for the past four years, and actually, our entire marriage, long before we knew Sam was sick.  Half of me is now gone so I have this huge void.  Last night I wandered aimlessly around the condo before finally forcing myself to go to bed.  Sweet Pea followed me in my wanderings as she is even more confused than I am.

A Celebration of Life is scheduled for this Saturday, August 31, at the First United Methodist Church in downtown Anchorage at 10:00am.  A second one is scheduled for 1:00pm, Saturday, September 14, at the United Methodist Church in John Day, Oregon.  His ashes will be interred at the Fort Richardson National Cemetery here in Anchorage at a later date, yet to be determined.  There will be an obituary in both the Anchorage Daily News and the Blue Mountain Eagle.

Sam spent many hours volunteering at the Anchorage Animal Shelter and he asked that donations be made to it or the American Lung Association - Alaska.

q'ua

I will post more later, but I do want to say the love of my life passed away peacefully today.  Sam is in a much better place and is no longer suffering.  Please help me celebrate his life.

q'ua