Life

It is almost 4 in the morning, and I've been up since before 2 a.m. Why? I don't really know. Maybe the train outside, maybe the thoughts running through my head. So here is a bit of random.

I still miss Mark greatly. Every day, I realize more and more how much of a friend he was to me. He was more than just my husband. He was my best friend. The person who knew every single thing about me and loved me anyway. He knew all of my secrets.

Going through life without a dad is becoming more difficult for my Princess. Especially these teen years. Every time she sees a friend with a father, she withdraws a bit more from activities. More and more time is spent with me - which I love, but I wish it wasn't because she was hurting. And it doesn't seem like many understand why it is still so difficult for her. After all, it has been over a year and a half. But what people don't realize, is that the first year is like a vacuum - you focus on just getting through the day. Then you start to realize what happened. Reality sets in.

There are times when I feel like I'm not enough for my children. That in some way, my only-parent parenting won't be enough. There is no back-up, and it is so hard to feel like I'm doing right by them. As such, I'm spending quite a bit of time in prayer.

Obviously, it isn't the easiest of days. I should go get at least another hour of sleep. But that probably won't happen.

Gee, those trains are loud tonight/this morning.

Merry Christmas Eve, Mark!

Merry Christmas, Mark. You are missed and loved every day. We think of you all the time, and not a day goes by without one of us talking about a memory of you.

We love you. Enjoy this holiday in Heaven.

The Holidays

So I thought the holidays wouldn't be a problem. We'd have my parents here for both, and while there might be sadness, we'd get through okay. But the closer they come, the more I realize it will be harder than anticipated. Part of the problem? Two words - Christmas shopping. I have no desire to go shopping. My children deserve to celebrate, but I don't want to go shopping for presents, either at the stores or online.

So what do I do?

I Wish

I wish someone besides me remembered the day Mark died every month.

I wish I could get enough energy and where-with-all to do housework every day.

I wish my children would do their schoolwork completely and turn it all in on time.

I wish there weren't so many things in the house that seem to need fixing.

I wish I would stop feeling sorry for myself.

I wish exercise came more naturally to me.

I wish I prayed and read the Bible more.

I wish that my feelings were more charitable towards others.

I wish I would stop feeling that shade of sadness behind everything I do.

Too many wishes. Perhaps some day the wishes will be reality.

In the meantime, this video expresses my silent plea.

Award Shows

Tonight I am watching the Emmys. I should be at a parent devo at church, but thanks to a lovely cold that has developed a joyous fever, I am at home by myself. This should be an enjoyable evening, watching the awards in piece and quiet, as the kiddos are at the devo. So why am I in tears?

Because Mark isn't here to make sarcastic comments and give me a hard time for watching the show.

My Reason Why

Today, I did something rather out of character for me - I got a tattoo. It is a charm bracelet around my left ankle, with a puzzle piece charm. The charm has Mark's initial and the Marine Corps symbol on it, all of which signify Mark - he loved doing puzzles and he was an active-duty Marine for 25 years. As some of my family and friends don't understand why I did this, I thought I would explain my reasoning.

The bottom line is that Mark was a wonderful man who deserves to be remembered and thought of every day. Right now I think of him every waking hour, but I don't know what my thinking patterns will be ten years, fifteen years, from now. It bothered me to contemplate there being a day when he wasn't remembered with love. He saved me from myself and deserves more than not being part of memories each day. I wanted a physical reminder of what he means to me for the rest of my life, which led to me the idea of a tattoo.

For many years, I wanted a tattoo - I'm not sure why, they just fascinated me. However (and ironically), Mark didn't like tattoos and always told me he would not stay married if I ever got one. (I was never mad enough at him to test that viewpoint, but doubt he would have followed through with his threat!) For a short while, I discarded the idea of a tattoo because of his preference, but then decided that I had to live this life without him, and I do believe he would understand why I've made this choice.

While some of my family have expressed their displeasure at my decision, I was reassured by a talk with my Grandpa. Grandpa Bridges is a 95-yr. old Iowan who grew up on a farm and is as conservative as they come. When I told him what I was planning and why, he told me that he thought it was a good choice for me.

This tattoo is for noone else but me. It isn't for show, it isn't for the sake of art, and it isn't an effort for me to recapture my youth. When I look at this, I will think of the man I will always love. I will be able to tell stories about Mark for years to come because if this tattoo is noticed, people will ask why I have a tatto. He deserves to always, ALWAYS, be remembered.

My Girl and Her Daddy

My princess is turning 13 years old in a couple of weeks. My baby is going to be a teenager?! It seems like just a few years ago we were bringing her home. So tiny, the size of a newborn at six months old, she has been the source of great joy and great angst. Joy, because when she loves, she LOVES. Angst, because when she hurts, I hurt to my very core.

Tonight, I held my girl in my arms as she sobbed about her upcoming birthday. Becoming a teenager is a milestone in every child's life, one she had been looking forward to since she turned twelve. Recently, however, her birthday has become a source of sadness for her. She is facing this birthday without her daddy.

You have to understand, this girl of mine is a true-to-the-bone daddy's girl. This child would run to the window when I picked her up from daycare looking for her daddy. Now by the time I got to the car, she was loving me, but for a few minutes, all she wanted, EVERY DAY, was her daddy. When she was upset, I would find her curled up at her daddy's side. If she was in trouble with me, she would go straight to her daddy for comfort. (To his credit, Mark always supported my decisions in front of her.) There was never any doubt in her mind that her daddy thought she was the star of his world.

Now, she faces the teenage years without the man who was everything to her. Yes, she has her memories, but she'd rather have her daddy. And this is something her mom can't fix.