Sometimes I Get Sappy

I got you, Mom. You can do this. Don’t worry. 

That’s what my son said to me as he looked up at his extremely uncomfortable and nervous mother.

As I’m learning to fix things on my own around our house, I recently had to pull out my husband’s tall ladder to reach the peaks of our vaulted ceilings. I was terrified. One of my biggest fears is heights. My husband dying from a fall doesn’t help it, either. My son held the ladder in place and he knew I was beyond nervous. I told him I was scared and to not let go of the ladder. As I was at the top, he looked up at me and said, “I got you mom.” And I had to take a deep breath and quietly say, “thank you,” so the warmth bursting from my heart didn’t knock me off the ladder. A couple days later, I needed to climb that thing again. This time I wasn’t close enough to a wall to steady myself or quite tall enough, so I had to reach as far as I could while being steady as a tree on the top rung of a damn ladder. And that’s when he reminded me again that I can do this, not to worry, and he’s there for me. 

It was a really a sweet reminder after a heavier than usual holiday. 

And it’s no surprise to me I’ve waited until nearly the final hour of November, the month we’re supposed to acknowledge what we’re thankful for, to write about what I’m particularly thankful for. If you’ve read any of my writing or know me at all, it’s pretty obvious I’m more than thankful for my kids. But I made a promise at my husband’s funeral that I will always thank him. And I’ll admit, some days are easier than others to keep that promise. 

I’m thankful for our youth we shared together. We were sweet friends. We both experienced things in our lives that were far from ideal. We met each other when we were both dealing with changes out of our control. And we quickly became each other’s peace. We were the place we’d go to feel safe and secure and understood. It didn’t matter where it was. It was the presence of one another. Of course we never said that to each other. It was an action. When you have someone you can comfortably lay with while not saying a word, it’s one of the most beautiful and pure connections. Of course we fell in love. How could we not?

Neither of us ever imagined ourselves getting married to anyone. It was something we never cared to do. Neither of us knew if we’d have children, but it seemed more likely than marriage. 

While we were much older by the time ours came into this world, we were still very young. We may not have married as young as some, but we both still had so much growing to do. We believed in each other. And then, we believed in each other more than we believed in ourselves. We believed there was no one else we would ever be able to live with forever and raise children with together. We loved each other and were naïve enough to believe that love like ours was really all we needed. We complimented each other well, but we grew differently. And I’m so thankful for everything I experienced with him.

I’m thankful for knowing him as well as I did. I’m thankful he knew me as well as he did. I’m thankful for sitting in driveways with him listening to music. I’m thankful for sitting on a beach with him listening to the waves crash. I’m thankful for sitting on a roof with him listening to each other’s stories. I’m thankful he taught me how to drive. I’m thankful for the long drives we took together and all the times we got lost in the middle of nowhere. I’m thankful we could laugh our way through the hiccups that happen on road trips. And pregnancy. And parenting. I’m thankful he was the one waiting for me when I was wheeled out of surgery. I’m thankful he was with me when I was in labor. I’m thankful he was standing right next to me when our babies were born. I’m thankful he was the first to hold them both. 

I’m also thankful I was sitting next to his hospital bed in his final hours before he was officially no longer alive. I’m thankful I was the one standing in the room when they called his time of death. As much as that hurts and as much as I wish it never happened, I’m thankful to have been the one to hear his last breath. I’m thankful I’m the one who arranged his funeral. I’m thankful I am the one who will raise his children. He knew before I did that no one would ever be able to raise his babies as well me, flaws and all. I’m thankful we gave our kids so much love that it gave them every ounce of strength needed to stand at their father’s funeral and tell the crowd what they loved about their dad. 

I’m thankful for the way he loved all three of us. He loved our boys as fiercely as I do. I’m thankful we loved each other in a way that simultaneously made complete sense and none at all. Our love for our children was extremely similar. Our love for each other was different. Our silences that once were warm and comforting slowly transitioned to cold and disheartening. On my worst days, I hate myself for not hating him. It seems like it would be so much easier if I did. But I truly believe if you wholeheartedly love someone, you can never hate them. And while that makes me want to rage and scream at him for knowing that about me, I’m glad he did. Even with the hurt mixed in, I’ll always be thankful to and for him. The lessons I’ve learned from our life together I wouldn’t have wanted to learn through anyone else. And while, yes, I have learned so much from him. So much about him. So much about myself. And though it doesn’t erase the additional pain that is topped with heavy grief, I’ve forgiven him for the ways he hurt me. I’m still working on forgiving myself. Not everything is perfect. It doesn’t mean it wasn’t worthy. 

I’ve learned where I lost myself along the way. I’ve learned that my Nana was not wrong in telling me to always have my own money. I’ve learned that I’m capable of so much more than I ever gave myself credit for. I’ve also learned to trust my husband with decisions we made about our children and still honor them. I’ve learned that it’s okay if no one understands what I’m doing, because I’m aware of who I am again. 

I’m slowly getting more and more clear with myself. I’m slowly conquering fears and gaining more and more confidence.

I am thankful for Matt loving all three of us exactly the way he did. It’s a huge reason why we are who we are today. It put us right here. My boys and I are closer than ever and ridiculously supportive of one another. And with all the heaviness and the bad days and the grief days and the anger days, there are so many good days. I genuinely enjoy my life. I have a lot of freedom in my life. I’ve worked hard for it and I continue to work for it. As it moves now, I have a beautiful life. It doesn’t take anything away from what we shared. It doesn’t take away the bad days and the grief days and the anger days. But my children and I are still living. When my son said, “I got you, Mom,” he expressed it with every cell in his body. We are very much alive. 

Not everything lasts forever. It doesn’t mean it was never beautiful. 

Thank you, Matthew, for knowing me, for letting me know you, for loving our babies, and making us a family. I’m incredibly thankful to see so much of you in their youth.

Thankful. Always and forever, it’ll never stop.