You're not drowning....

...it's just a storm.  It will pass.  This is what a therapist told me after I said, "I'm the captain of a ship and this ship is sinking."  He then told me he has a boat, and he's been in storms.  Remain calm is what he did as the Captain.  After all, if he freaked out then they were really screwed.

Nobody has ever died from grief he said.   We were talking about how sad my children are.  That was comforting.

Today is the second months since my husband and the father of our children was killed by cancer.  Today, was the first day I went to visit him at his new home.  It looked somewhat like I had thought it would.   The tree was there and starting to sprout little buds,  (and no I still don't know what type of tree it is.)   What I wasn't expecting was about 2 1/2 ft. from this beautiful budding tree and a rectangular of dirt approximately 6-7 ft long and 3ft wide.  Under this pile of dirt and in a coffin and then a vault is my children's daddy.

I stood and looked at it.  I was just stunned that it was actually there.  I am not sure what i thought I would see, but I couldn't believe I was seeing past the dirt and past the vault and the coffin and seeing my husband at his funeral looking pain free, handsome, and stoic.

Sitting with my back to the tree as I sat at what I thought was probably where Eric's head was resting.  This is exactly what I thought in my minds on that January 12, 2012, the day that Eric and I planned his funeral.   We had no idea he would be dead in 9 days.  Today, was 80 degrees and beautiful on March 21st.  I was sitting under the tree with a tank top and shorts - and it was almost two warm.

Tears started to roll down my eyes as soon as I pull my car up to the car.  As soon as I got to Eric's home I was sobbing.  I stood and cried and said nothing for a long time.  After a while I realized I sat down with my back to the tree, and cried that I was sorry.  Sorry, that I wasn't doing the job I had promised him when he was dying.  Eric worried so about our children after he died.  He was a wonderful father.   He tried to prepare all of us for the day he wouldn't be here to guide our ship any longer.  How did I become a captain?

Then I lay down.  I put my head where I thought his would be and I lay on the side that was always mind.  Instead of laying on cotton sheets I was lying on grass.  Instead of Eric's arm around me, my head rest on my own arm.  Guidance is what I was looking for.  What can I do to help our children.  Harrison was promised he would have guys around that would do things like Dad.  I'm trying hard to make those days happen but people have lives of their own.  It's hard to devote time to a boy that isn't yours.  My Adelaide cries for her Daddy everyday, but has me to talk about growing up.  My Harrison doesn't have the "how does it feel to be a man, Dad?"  I will continue to ask for help for all of my children.  I am grateful and appreciative of those that have said, "Sure, your kids are amazing.  I'd like to spend time with them, and I'd be honored."  Thank you from my heart.   And no, I don't say that lightly.

I didn't bring a gift for Eric, as when I left my house I didn't know I would wind up at a cemetery.  Not sure what I would bring anyway.  Most people brought flowers.

Kneeling next to Eric's bed I decided to pull out the weeds that were starting to grow.  A meticulous lawn Eric made.  Explaining to the lawn service that our lawn has to be just so, was hard.  Maybe 6 times a year he fertilizes and thatches and I'm not really sure.  Eric would hate weeds growing, so I pulled and pulled.

Then I started to make lines in the dirt.  By the end, with dirty hand I had written I <3 U on Eric's home.  As I wrote it I told him I would do better.  He would be proud of me.  Fix it no matter what it took, is what told him.

Sobbing is how I left.  Some for myself, some for Eric, and mainly for my children.  I will steer this boat out of the storm.  The storm we are in will not last forever, as nothing does.   Whatever it takes, I will make it happen.

With love,

Alyce