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I didn't cry very much yesterday. A clinically depressed person would call yesterday "a good day". I got up early, but started slowly. I had to drive to the south side of town to visit a client site to help them troubleshoot a problem they were having with their recent VoIP deployment. When I get up in the morning, before I gather my senses (I am not a morning person... at all), I seem to be numb to most everything. I see her stuff around me, but it doesn't really grasp me until I start waking up. I usually have trouble then... for a little bit. I cried on the way down there, but got myself until control before I arrived. I made it to the lobby, talked to the receptionist, began to wait for my contact... then it came again... I thought I was going to have to leave for a moment, but I managed to get through it before anyone showed up. The hours passed into the afternoon and I seemed to be doing ok until the drive home. There is a blur in my memory from then until later in the afternoon when I left to meet my ex-coworker and good friend, Joe. I am not sure exactly what happened. I know I was home. I know I looked through some old photos. I listened to a sermon about mindset and quality of life. I struggled with it. I prayed. I don't remember eating anything yesterday but a bite of Erin's cheesecake from the day before. I think I drank a Diet Dr. Pepper. The time escapes me. It all escapes me. Which beings me back to my biggest fear... memory fading. All I have left of her is what I carry inside me. The sentiments from our relationship are mere triggers that help being me back to a moment in time, a place, a conversation... a smell or taste... a feeling. The real substance of fulfillment in those things is within my mind and heart. I pray that I don't lose anything... not a drop of my life with her. I don't want to lose a precious second. The mere possibility of those things fading in my mind or me forgetting something completely terrifies me. Even in death, I need her still. Anyone can get on a soap box and share their opinions about how healthy that is, but until you see through my eyes, inhale across my lips, and survive with my heart, you can't possibly imagine. There are no words to build a bridge to here.

When I was but a young man I was wild and full of fire
A youth within my teens, but full of challenge and desire
I ran away from home and left my mother and my dad
I know it grieved them so to think their only boy was bad
I fell in with an outlaw band, their names were known quite well How many times we robbed and plundered, I could never tell This kind of sinful living leads only to a fall I learned that much and more the night I heard my Master call One night we rustled cattle, a thousand head or so And started them out on the trail that leads to Mexico But a norther started blowing and lightning flashed about I thought someone was calling me, I thought I heard a shout Then at that moment lightning struck not twenty yards from me And left there was a giant cross where once there was a tree And this time I knew I heard a voice, a voice so sweet and strange A voice that came from everywhere, a voice that called my name So frightened I was thinking of sinful deeds I'd done I failed to see the thousand head of cattle start to run The cattle they stampeded, were running all around My pony ran but stumbled and it threw me to the ground I felt the end was near, that death would be the price When a mighty bolt of lightning showed the face of Jesus Christ And I cried oh Lord forgive me, don't let it happen now I want to live for you alone, Oh God these words I vow My wicked past unfolded, I thought of wasted years When another bolt of lightning killed a hundred head of steers And the others rushed on by me and I was left to live The Master had a reason, life is his to take or give A miracle performed that night, I wasn't meant to die The dead ones formed a barricade least six or seven high And right behind it there was I, afraid but safe and sound I cried and begged for mercy kneeling there upon the ground A pardon I was granted, my sinful soul set free No more to fear the angry waves upon life's stormy sea Forgiven by the love of God, a love that will remain I gave my life and soul the night the Savior called my name (Marty Robbins)

Onward... I have been trying to get Joe to join me for a Guy Forsyth show for almost 6 years. Finally, he decides to make time. He took care of picking up the tickets a few weeks back since he lives close to the venue and we met last evening at McGonigel's Mucky Duck for dinner and a solo Guy show. Guy, a guitar, and a stage. He performed many of his well known original works (often re-arranged slightly to provide a slightly different perspective) as well as some American "roots" music covers that contributed to our culture as an evolving society. He also tossed in a few old Gospel tunes that were heartwarming. I saw Keith and Mandy for the first time in years it seems. I was able to tell them about Erin without breaking down. It was a moment of progress. As usual, I was moved and inspired by Guy's performance and even if just for a moment, I found a smile and appreciation for life outside myself. I took my camera just in case. Low light concert/documentary photography is difficult because of the ambient conditions. I've shot Guy a few times before in different venues over the years. February 2004 was the most recent that I've actually shared with anyone. I'll probably post a few after I take time to cull the proofs. I wasn't paying much attention to the photography... just the music.

Said Red Molly to James that's a fine motorbike
A girl could feel special on any such like
Said James to Red Molly, well my hat's off to you
It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952
And I've seen you at the corners and cafes it seems
Red hair and black leather, my favorite color scheme
And he pulled her on behind
And down to Box Hill they did ride
Said James to Red Molly, here's a ring for your right hand But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man I've fought with the law since I was seventeen I robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine Now I'm 21 years, I might make 22 And I don't mind dying, but for the love of you And if fate should break my stride Then I'll give you my Vincent to ride Come down, come down, Red Molly, called Sergeant McRae For they've taken young James Adie for armed robbery Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside Oh, come down, Red Molly to his dying bedside When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left He was running out of road, he was running out of breath But he smiled to see her cry And said I'll give you my Vincent to ride Says James, in my opinion, there's nothing in this world Beats a 52 Vincent and a red headed girl Now Nortons and Indians and Greeveses won't do They don't have a soul like a Vincent 52 He reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys He said I've got no further use for these I see angels on Ariels in leather and chrome Swooping down from heaven to carry me home And he gave her one last kiss and died And he gave her his Vincent to ride (Richard Thompson)

Well I threw up my hands!
And I heard, Amen!
And I prayed, sweet Jesus
Don't let me become a backslider!

photo by Sean

Walking a thin line... trying to be patient and let it come. Trying to find room for something in my life besides pain. I can't stop thinking about her every second of every day. How can one love so much and hurt so much at the same time? I am genuinely adrift.

The last 24 hours have been a blur. I had to work last night in Belton, TX. I didn't want to, but it had to be done. I am struggling with getting thrown back into facing responsibilities I'm not ready to confront yet. I feel like I'm not finding my way back when I'm ready, but rather given a silent ultimatum. Rejoin the hive and buzz back to work or be gone with you. I have worked to get to where I am in my career and Erin would want me to take care of business. I want to lay around for as long as it takes and do nothing... speak only when it comes naturally... simply exist because I have to. It is textbook depression not onset by chemical imbalance, but emotional distress of the most torturous kind. I need time. I need time to allow things to settle on their own... time for the path to what lies ahead to be presented to me. I feel so rushed. Sean's brother, Benjamin, is moving to Los Angeles this week. The timing works out such that Sean can assist his brother and get back to LA in a two-birds-with-one-stone throw if he were to leave now. I didn't want him to go yet, but I understand why he must. Since I had to work just north of our capitol city, it was no problem to drive Sean to Austin on my way. We listened to rare mp3's freshly compiled by Sean for the trip and chatted a bit about this and that... the trip was as close to normal as I could hope. When we arrived in Austin, we met his mother for dinner. This is where I started degrading a bit. I have noticed that every time I come in contact with someone that I haven't seen since Erin's death, I freak out to some degree. This phenomenon is multiplied to a random varying extent if I have to elaborate on details or walk through how I'm doing and/or feeling in conversation. I've come to anticipate this, yet can not control it. Dinner was a little awkward only because I didn't want to be anti-social and despite my feeble attempts at participation, I felt that anti-social was exactly what I had become in the first few moments. When I waved goodbye as I pulled away, I felt the wetness of tears rolling down my cheeks before I made it the block and a half to the interstate ramp. Before June 3, 2006, I don't recall ever wailing in emotional pain. Lots of people have yipped at missing a nail and hitting a thumb, stubbing a toe, or touching a hot skillet... but to feel your heart being wrenched within you to the extent that sound escapes with your breath... this was new to me. It has been happening more frequently as the timeline from the accident progresses. The horrifying pain of her absence... the soulful resonance of my breaking heart... it sounds absolutely ridiculous. I don't embarrass easy, but I'm certain I would be if someone heard me. It makes me lightheaded... dizzy. I often have to begin to pull off the road for safety. It seems to happen more when I'm alone... which would be a nice segue into me being alone now except that I'm not quite done with the yesterday story. After dinner, we parted ways and I cried my way to Belton. It was about an hour before I found a roadside motel and checked in for the night. I had to be at work around 12:30 (aye emm) an thought I could catch a few winks before hand. I was wrong.

the night we were engaged (before the question)

When I got in the room, I found myself wanting to call Erin and let her know the number to my room and that I was ok. I caught myself in the realization that she wasn't home to answer... again. I talked to her a little... prayed... cried. It is a regular occurrence. I was able to drift in and out of the edge of sleep for about 2 hours before getting up for work. I worked until about 7:30 this morning... all the while, I tried to be professional and cordial... not letting my emotions get the better of me. All the while, I realized that I wasn't ready to be doing this again yet. Not yet. The cutover when extremely smoothly and everyone was happy but me. It had nothing to do with work of course. I didn't have to check out until noon, so I raced back to the hotel hoping to snuff out my consciousness for a little bit before driving all the way back to Houston alone. I woke up every 20 minutes or so... broken sleep and certainly broken hearted. Basically... broken. There were a few outbursts on the way home, but I quickly called someone if I had cell signal just to put my mind somewhere else. I stopped at Sweet Bella as I passed through The Woodlands to pick up a piece of Erin's favorite cheesecake to share with my mother. Just like her birthday, I lost it when I walked in. Same story, different time of day... err... same story, same day, different time of day. Exhausting. Anyhoo, I made it home safely and it was a relief to be back in our home... my wife's home. My mother and step-father had been Henry-sitting while I was away and they were anxious to get on the road, so here marks my first moments completely alone in the house since the shining light in my life passed away. Completely silent. Completely incomplete. I just wander from room to room... taking in the environment. Every little nuance of a hanging painting or decorative thingamabob purchased or placed by her... her signature is everywhere big and small. I am overwhelmed by it all to the point of not knowing what I am feeling... a potpourri. Her clothes. Shoes. The little dried roses in the foyer or those petals drying in the drawer. The hand painted and shaded stenciling in the dining room. Old photo albums. Carpets and candles. Grocery items in the pantry. Traces of her are everywhere around me and she is in my heart, but I can't see her. I can't gently kiss the corner of her lips as she sleeps. I can't place my hand on her stomach and watch her breathing beside me. I can't smell her hair draped across my pillow. I can't swell with pride as I watch her laugh out loud without holding back... like a child without a care. I can only love her with all that I am... if it were only enough.

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, (love) is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

caught loungin'

One time Erin showed up at my office out of the blue with a huge bag of every sort of OTC pain killer, lotion, antiseptic, dental floss, breath freshener, antacid, anti-gas, etc. thing you could imagine. It was a little pharmacy. She said, "I'm making you a medicine drawer... just in case". She was always looking out for me. She would bring me little knick-knacks for my office or leave little love notes. She would bake fresh goodies for my co-workers like home made banana nut bread or cookies. She always had a smile on her face and was always encouraging. Her photos in my office show her caring eyes... innocent and pure. She was my angel. I laid down in her closet this morning for a few minutes as I was trying to wake up. Images flashed in my head in a completely random fashion... every single one of them was a wonderful memory. There were no bad memories... we never fought, we loved each other completely... we were thankful and cherished finding each other. Our relationship was as close to perfect as one could hope for... our marriage was like living a fairy tale. I managed somehow to make it to work without crying this morning. I haven't been working much, but it was the first time. I parked my truck and went into the lobby to get a cup of coffee. I made it to my office and unlocked the door. So far, so good. When I stepped inside it was like being hit by a truck. When I could gather myself together, I tried to use the key code the HR rep had forwarded through my boss to access the benefits services to schedule professional counseling. It didn't work. I'll circle back around to that another day, but for today I am done in here. I can't put my finger on what it is, but it is just too much. Maybe it is because I wouldn't have this job if it were not for her support. Making a career jump from a stable company, great position, and good future to something a little more risky was something we discussed together. She made it clear that through good and bad, no matter what, she would be right there beside me... supporting me every step of the way as my wife. I had the courage to risk it because I knew that no matter what happened, I would have her. That no matter where life took me, I would be holding her hand and that was all that was important. Home is where the wife is. I want her back so badly... just to hear her sweet voice. My baby... my true love... my everything.

So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Every step that I take is within a dream. Even now, I can't believe this is happening. Disbelief similar to that felt when I received the phone call about Erin's wreck, but never ending... all the time. I'm back in our home... surrounded with her from every angle. It feels good to hurt here again. I'm so tired. Let me preface this synopsis with a clarification. I just got home this afternoon. When we arrived at the Minneapolis-Saint Paul airport yesterday evening, we confirmed our flight had been delayed a couple of hours due to weather in Atlanta. The touchdown time was well passed the departure of our connection, so there was no way we were getting to Houston last night. It was a choice of either flying to Atlanta and looking for a room or sleeping in Minneapolis near the airport and leaving on the first flight out this morning. I opted for the latter.

Hobby... ugg.

So, if we rewind to Thursday morning, Sean and I got up early and headed to Houston Hobby for our flight. Normally, a 10 minute trip to IAH from my house and a short non-stop flight to MSP would be preferred. Given the timing of the notice and flight availability, we saved over $1500.00 by driving across town to Hobby and eating a 4.5 hour layover in Atlanta. So basically, Thursday was a travel day. All day. After walking the Atlanta airport a few hundred times, we finally boarded. The weather was so bad we were lined up for a spot to takeoff for about 40 minutes on the taxiway.

I counted 24 planes behind us as we took the runway.

I tried to sleep on every flight, but it just wasn't happening. I had a few rough spots throughout the day, but overall I was doing pretty good with everything until I looked out my window and saw Minnesota. My love for the state in more than an extension of her love for her homeland. It is so wild and beautiful. Good people. It is the closest I've ever come to experiencing what the United States must been like before we corrupted so much of it. This was the high point of the weekend as my emotional (and to some extent physical) degradation had begun.

I love Minnesota... untamed beauty.

As we worked our way through Humphrey to the lightrail to Lindbergh, I was overcome with emotions. Every other time I had been in this airport but one was with my wife. We had a few minutes to wait for the train. The weather, like always, was fabulous.

I felt like there should be a photo of me taped between the emergency signs.

We picked up the car and headed to the outskirts of Saint Paul. I wasn't to meet my in-laws until morning. Since it was (relatively) late, we stayed at a one of my work colleagues home as he'd graciously offered when he found out I was going to be passing through the cities. It was gorgeous. It is very close to exactly what I would imagine Erin wanting for us someday. They prepared a delicious meal and we visited. All the while I was doing ok with maintaining composure. I made it to the bathroom a few times. I wished she was there to see their place. It was a small slice of a perfectly baked QoL pie and I know Erin would have felt the same. We slept in the basement... an amenity the south is sorely lacking. I could make a list, but I'd rather just state the gist: they were more than accommodating hosts that made our brief stay in their spectacular shack as comfortable as possible. We awoke early and started our drive to Coon Rapids. I was anxious to see my mother and father in-law. It had been probably a year and I missed them... these were not the best circumstances, but still. The act of driving in Minnesota kept stirring up memories and thoughts that were little jabs to the emotional hot button. Like the night before enroute to Chuck's home, the trip was touch and go with the rolling tears and Kleenex, but I didn't make it 10 paces out of the car door toward their new apartment before I completely lost it. I fell into their arms. I was further down the spiral path the weekend would present. We sat down for breakfast together after I got myself together. I brought them a certified copy of the death certificate should they need it for any official hoo-hah that came up. It felt like it was printed on a sheet of lead. I couldn't eat much. My stomach was in knots. I needed some air... it was a good time to get on the road north.

Headed to my baby's old stomping grounds.

The trip had to be incredibly boring for Sean. I didn't talk much. I cried until I was dry and then silently watched my wife's home state go by out the window. Although I have made this drive several times... this was the first time without Erin beside me. This was the first time without her voice in the conversation. We stopped at Tobies for some water. I think you get a ticket in Minnesota if you don't stop there half way to the ports. They are famous for their caramel rolls, but I can't handle sweets so I just look through the glass at remember how Erin had a sweet tooth that was insatiable. More tears... then we're back on the road.

Tobies is a mandatory stop for travellers between the Twin Cities and the North Shore.

When we got close to Duluth, I started feeling ill from the crying... too much in too short a time. We passed the Buffalo House on the south side of town and it accelerated. We had a family reception there after we were married. Many of the people I was to see this weekend I'd not seen since that night. Lake Superior is beautiful. It is the largest body of fresh water on Earth... Sean said it looked like the ocean to him. I was going to take him down to the shore, but I was so upset I needed to get out of the car and be alone for a moment, so we went to Erin's folks house. We arrived before them, so there was no way inside yet, but I just walked in the yard back to the small stream and remembered our times there... imagined her growing up here. It hurt so badly... being there was wonderful... being there without her was the problem. When they arrived, we sat down inside and visited. Every story from her youth (as there were many told over the weekend) was another small dagger in my heart. I wanted to hold her so badly. Her mother brought out baby photos and old school pictures. I felt like I was going to implode from the weight upon my heart. Anyone that had felt the pain of a broken heart in their life can relate on a small level to the feeling... but there are not words that can express the magnitude of emotional pain. I was dying. Since my mother-in-law moved to Coon Rapids for work and my father-in-law subsequently moved jobs there to be with her, their small home near Rice Lake is mostly empty. They didn't want us to be uncomfortable so they had already made arrangements for a hotel for the two nights we were in town. That was nice of them and I appreciated their gracious concern for our comfort, but at first I felt mildly disappointed for not being able to stay at Erin's old house. After some consideration, I realized I was being foolish and knew concretely that if I were to stay there, I wouldn't sleep a wink. I would simply embrace the misery I was feeling and stay up feeling sorry for myself. That home is special to me. We headed for the hotel to unload our belonging and get some dinner. I was already exhausted and the weekend hadn't even really started yet. Sean and I ate at Grandma's (the restaurant, not the relative) for dinner. Walleye cakes. I find myself drawn to places that Erin and I went together... ordering things she liked, etc. Perhaps it is mildly self destructive, but I am willing to accept that for now. When we arrived at the restaurant, there was a rainbow that stretched across the horizon... a full rainbow. I haven't seen many in my life, but this one was special because it had a twin. Like rings of Saturn or ripples on a pond, there were two full (double sided?) rainbows concentric and dominating the sky. It was beautiful... and fleeting. They were gone with such brevity. Ironic. We met my in-laws for breakfast again on Saturday at Erin's childhood home. I feel like I'm leaving out a lot of the emotional train wrecks that happened along the days/nights of the weekend for the sake of not being overly redundant. The important thing here is that I wasn't continually like that... just most of the time. We went to Erin's aunt's home for the gathering. It was more of a family cookout than a memorial, but there was a nice display of photos and everyone honored her well throughout the day with fond memories. Not a single negative thing could be said of my wonderful EL. She was a living breathing example of how we should be as humans. Not everyone was there that I'd hoped to see, but I am glad I saw everyone that did attend. I care deeply for so many of her family members even if they don't realize it. I delivered messages from her indirectly to those that I thought should hear them... how she spoke of them to me in private... how she loved them and believed in them... etc. Her grandfather Milo reminds me so much of my late Papa Doc. They could have been cut from the same mold. I love her grandparents and wish I could spend more time with them. I love her parents and am sad that they are so far away. I wish I could be closer to all her cousins and relatives up there... they are good people. The kind of people you want to have in your life. The kind of people with whom you want to share memories. She loved her brothers so dearly and always wanted to mother them... to guide them toward success. She believed in them more than anyone else and was there to support them as they grew up into men. I love those guys because they were, because of her, my brothers too... and I wanted to see them this weekend to tell them that at a minimum. I was able to spend some time with Phillip, but Allen didn't show up all weekend. I can understand. It is incredibly hard. You have to consciously decide to subject yourself to painful emotions that you could otherwise dodge through denial or chemically. Whatever. I love him and I hope that he can find his own way through this in time. I told Phil that I wanted him to look out for his little brother because they only had each other now. Maybe they will find something unexpected in all of this tragedy. For me, the day was so very hard... but at the end, it was better than I had expected it to be. I found that in-between the wailing grief, there were moments of familial camaraderie and appreciation. There was some sharing of the past going on without tears, but with smiles. It was a miracle.

Grandma and Grampa... Erin loved them so very much.

We sat around the fire as the sun snuck away over the horizon and listened to Uncle Sparky (Bob) play guitar and sing old Dillon tunes. Erin had a huge family. I think there are about 23 grandchildren on her mother's side alone. A few of her aunts and uncles were celebrating their 28th anniversary that same day. A lot of folks drove in from many miles away (as far as the Twin Cities) just for this one gathering, so it was a special day for me. It was more important for me to be there to communicate, reacquaint, and express with my in-laws than it was to be there for her. I live with her memory and love in my heart every single second of my life. I don't need a special memorial for that... for me, there is no "closure"... there is no line in the sand that represents the demarcation between before and after. I am her husband. She is my wife. I'm getting off track in the chronological sequence of events here, so basically as the evening went on and people slowly started to pack things up to head back toward home, I made plans to spend some time with the cousins I met back at our reception that were all basically around Erin's age. Richard, Derek, Trav, Dan, and hopefully my bro-in-laws Phil and Allen. Allen still didn't come out, but Sean and I went out for drinks with my Minnesota boys. No matter what external problems exist to be faced in life, in their hearts they are great guys... all of them. I'm proud to know them and am honored to be related to them (via marriage). We drank... a lot. I think I must drink too much because they were putting their best foot forward and I felt like we were having appetizers before the dinner. We closed the bar down and Sean and I taxi'd back to the hotel. I think I turned off the light at 3:30. I didn't need to drink to escape because it hurt just as bad inebriated as it did sober. I needed to spend time with those guys. I am glad I got the chance to hang out with them while I was in town. As for the memorial items, most of the photos present were ones that I'd taken, so I asked my mom (in-law) to take them home with her. Sunday morning came early and we again met up with family for breakfast. Phil, Richard, and Trav joined us for our last big lumberjack style Minnesota breakfast before Sean and I had to leave. I managed to show Sean a small snippet of some of the places dear to me in Duluth, but would really like to take another trip sometime up the north shore. Maybe when I have a little time on this and the pain is not triggered so violently by little things that are unavoidable.

Sean at Seven Bridges (well, one of the seven)

We stopped to visit Pete and Ginny on the way out of town. They are so wonderful. I wanted to stay longer, but feared we would run into traffic in Minneapolis that might delay us. It didn't end up mattering much in the long run due to the aforementioned delay, but we did get stuck for some time in construction zones on the way. When I found out that we were going to be delayed an extra night, I called Chuck for advice about where to stay near the airport on his cell. His wife answered. Come to find out, he wrecked his motorcycle that morning and was in the hospital with 6 fractured ribs, a fractured shoulder, and blood in his lung. He will apparently be ok, but it was sobering. We stayed at a local motel via shuttle and woke up around 4 this morning to meet our itinerary. It was a long ride back, but uneventful. I'm glad to be home... in our home.

if I could only find the words

Over the course of the weekend I made a conscious note to remember certain moments, feelings, events, etc. I went through some really tough moments and often felt completely lost. I remember saying to myself, "remember this... share this moment", only to forget. It's not that big a deal in the grand scheme. I had a great weekend with my wife's family. I connected on some level with people I rarely see and I hope that it allowed an avenue of continued contact and relationship. I confirmed that it doesn't matter where I am or what I am doing, my relationship with Erin is within me and doesn't change scope with geography. I am learning that mourning is a process. I pray that I don't ever forget. I would rather forget every other memory and experience I have than anything vaguely related to Erin and my precious short time with her on Earth. I am still hurting every moment of every day, but it is now in our home and on better terms. I miss her. I miss her voice and her laugh... her smile and her touch. I feel incomplete and alone. I feel adrift. I haven't lost hope that I'll reach the point where life will regain flavor and direction... where I won't simply be waiting to die to see my wife again. It is melodramatic I'm sure, but it is how I feel most of the time now. I did not mince words when I said I'd become apathetic to any and all... I simply do not care about anything other than clinging to every scrap of existence and memory. It is not healthy, but I am lost within it. I pray a lot. I'm tired. I have a lot on my mind. I'm sure... positive... that I've skimmed through this in haste to find sleep. I know there are other things... important things... that I simply haven't said or perhaps, haven't remembered. My eyes are burning from exertion, tears, and dehydration. My stomach has been in pain for 2 days. I tell myself I don't have an ulcer, but it feels like I would imagine one to be. I feel lost.

I'm leaving Minnesota again on this cool Sunday morning. Yesterday was the small memorial / get-together with her immediate and extended family. It hurt beyond words, but in a way, healed. I'll try to put more of my thoughts down when I am back home and have rested. I haven't really had access to a computer this weekend and my phone has been off most of the time. I try to stay focused. The only time I think it is working is when I'm cried out of tears. I'm so tired. I'm so very tired. My extended flight gets in sometime after midnight and then I have an hour drive home and work tomorrow. I just want to lay in bed with my wife and close my eyes.

I don't know what is happening anymore. From one day to the next it seems my life is careening off the road and I don't know which way to turn to get back. There are moments when I think I've found some peace... or rather, it has been given to me by God since I can't seem to find anything these days. They are brief, but genuinely surreal in that I don't know if I am dreaming them or if they are part of a conscious experience. I didn't eat most of the day yesterday. I had a smoothie for lunch... well, part of a smoothie. I felt queasy all day. I cried in the morning a lot and a little around lunch, but I was ok most of the rest of the time other than the sick feeling. I received many phone calls from people I haven't talked to in years it seems. Each of them apparently just hearing the news. I don't know what to say anymore that doesn't come across like someone is pulling a string on my back. If I attach myself to the conversation and explain, I completely lose composure and can barely breathe. So I give the synopsis from as far away as I can. I'm taking some baby steps though... I emailed the detective again regarding her personal belongings still in police custody. I moved some of her bathroom supplies under her sink so I could organize them later. I called the agent handling her IRA to inquire about what to do next with the account. I seize the moments between the emotional train wrecks to try to do something... anything. Ted stopped by our house last night after he got off work. I suggested we go out for dinner at one of Erin's favorite local restaurants. So we did. Unlike Sweet Bella (another one of her favorites), I made it through the entire meal without breaking down. I ordered a delicious glass of white wine for her and we shared her favorite tableside flambé desert on their menu. I miss her so much... I can't seem to say it enough times for it to mean even a fraction of what it should. Once we got home from dinner, Ted had gone home, and Sean was working on the computer, the house was quiet and I prepared for bed. I was numb. I hadn't drank with my meal and was chemically of clear mind, but I just felt such emptiness that I couldn't even find words to describe where I was emotionally. Perhaps it was a protection mechanism? I prayed and then slept. It was not a restful sleep. I awoke several times throughout the night... nightmares, too hot, small sounds I would normally sleep through, more nightmares. It was exhausting. This morning came too early. I needed to get up for work, but could not convince myself I was prepared to face other people. I decided to work from my home office. I found out this morning that one of my clients is preparing for an implementation Tuesday night (actually early Wednesday morning) and wants me to be on-site. This is going to be problematic with being a single parent to the Yorkie now. I will have to make arrangements for someone to be here with him. The location of the project is about 4 or 5 hours from my house. I'm not looking forward to driving alone or dealing with people, but I know it must happen sooner or later... no matter how hard it will be. I am leaving tomorrow for Minnesota. My mother and step-father are going to watch Henry, Éclair, Bianca, and Penny while I am gone. My in-laws are having a small family gathering in her hometown on Saturday and I need to be there... I wouldn't miss it for anything. I wish my career had afforded more time for Erin and I to spend more time with her family up north. I hope there is a way we can still be close in her absence. I had to take a much longer connecting flight itinerary to save money on the trip, so most of the weekend is travel time is seems. I'm 15 minutes from Houston Intercontinental and there is a 3 hour direct flight from there for a short thousand dollars more than the flight I got out of Hobby (which is quite far from me). Time, like most things, doesn't seem to mean much to me anymore, so it's not that big a deal. This morning continues slowly. I have trouble focusing on anything. I wept a few times laying in our bed, but once I got up I was a little better. I guess I'll go find some more caffeine. This house is so empty without her... I am so empty without her. It hurts.

I know that Erin would want me to continue to live and do good things. I know she supports me in all that I am. Ironically, the zest and passion for living life to it's fullest that embodied who she was on every level seems a distant dream. I lack interest in anything but waiting to die. The words seem harsh to type, but it is true. I notice it in every aspect of my life. Things that were interesting to me... goals set... plans made... sights to devour... the wonderment of what the future held... all meaningless at the moment. The only thing I seems to care about is the precious few memories I have compared to all the ones to be. I recently received some photos of my Grandmother (my father's mother) who has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. The thought of ever losing these precious memories terrify me. I could lose all else, but not that... please never that...

Henry used to snuggle with mommy the most

Henry was extra snuggly last night and this morning. It made it so hard to get out of bed. He used to convince Erin to sleep in and keep him company on a regular basis. I dragged myself to the bathroom to prepare for work... reminders of her all around me... but this time she wasn't sleeping peacefully in the other room. Just like yesterday, I made it a few minutes before the haze of sleep began to wear off and I wept. It has started to get to where I almost have to pull over on the way to work for fear of passing out in the car while driving. The crying intensifies to dizziness and nausea. It's silly... but uncontrollable. I gathered the strength to finally check Erin's email yesterday. She was always tinkering with online coupons and discounts for her projects and such... very crafty. After weeding through a ton of SPAM from the two weeks of neglect, I found a few emails from friends of hers that didn't know yet. I have composed letters to a few of them... most of them... but still have some to do. It is painful to revisit the details again, so I find myself skipping to a synopsis. I hope it doesn't come across as uncaring. It is only done in selfish and hasty self-protection. Over and out. To deal with another day. I am weak that way I suppose. I only worked a half day at the office yesterday due to being completely overwhelmed at the prospect of functioning like a normal human being again combined with having to go to the funeral home to pick up the cremated remains of my better half. I went in this morning again managing to dry my eyes before walking through the foyer and making to my desk behind a closed door before losing composure again. I had a meeting at 10:30 today however, that forced me to act. It was incredibly difficult, but I managed. I drove home afterwards to work from the house. Being out in the real world amongst strangers this morning for the meeting is what confirmed my apathy for existence. I have to believe that this too will pass, but it is very real at the moment. Last night, Sam invited Sean and I over to his house (about 2 blocks away) for dinner. He grilled steak, sausage, tilapia, squash, and corn. Everything tastes better fresh off the grill, no? I quietly participated and appreciated the hospitality and care. His two sons made me smile. I love kids. Although Erin and I didn't have plans for children, I know she would have been the most amazing mother. I would have given her a family if she had ever decided it is what she wanted. I would have given her anything. After dinner, we sat in Sam's living room and enjoyed a couple of movies. I felt myself thinking of Henry and worrying about how he was feeling at home alone, but pushed the thoughts aside. Overall, it was a very nice time. My life is a whirlwind of chaos. Loose ends... social, economical, and psychological schtuff to figure out and deal with... it makes me tired to think about. I start to think I'm ready to sort... then I get all shaky and discombobulated. I wish I could hold her to take it all away. Disorganization is what is left when the emotional dust settles for an instant. That is usually when I just want to lay down and sleep because it is too much. I'm a wreck. They say that life moves faster as you age and to some extent I've experienced that... or am experiencing it still. It can't move fast enough anymore.

from a crawfish boil at Mike Roger's place last year

I just got home from picking up the urn and the death certificate. I do not know what else there is to say.

Today is my first day "back in the office" as it were. I am not ready. I thought I was, but I'm not. Last night, as I lay in our empty bed reaching toward her pillow and imagining I could still smell her there, I wept in desperation. I *know* this must pass. I *know* that this must become bearable. The daylight at the end of the tunnel is simply too far away to see at this point. This morning, I struggled with my "morning routine" that I used to execute so quietly and gingerly as my wife lay asleep. I feel, perhaps for the first time in my life, the grasp of anxiety. At times it is almost dizzying. I cried all the way to work and prayed for some sort of help. I wanted so badly to hear her voice comforting me. I arrived at work before anyone else. It was dark, quiet, and cold. The air was still the ambiance stepping into my office only accentuated the depth of my sinking feeling of aloneness. The blinds were lowered and my desk clutter was exactly as I'd left it two weeks-ish ago except for perhaps some additional dust. The two photographs of my sweet Erin were still on the credenza where I'd left them... smiling at me. It was just at that moment... the moment I was looking at the photos through recovering eyes as my lids grew taught from the drying of tears... that moment I saw the note. I could have collapsed. I'd read it many times before, but had completely forgotten it. She used to bake goodies like banana nut bread and cookies to bring to my office to surprise my co-workers. One day she had written it on my whiteboard and I never erased it because it made me smile every time I happened to see it. My lachrymose morning intensified as I tried to get my head around it. It is impossible. I tried to make myself busy. I filled out an outstanding expense report from my business trip to California back before it happened. I had trouble focusing my thoughts. I filled out my bereavement paperwork for the time I took off from work and a PTO request to visit my in-laws. I entered contact information into my database from scraps in my pocket that have been accumulating over the last two weeks. Nothing helped... it felt wrong. It felt overwhelming. I opened my desk drawer and saw a small card I'd saved from a gift Erin left me at work as a surprise. I shuddered as I read it a few times. I wondered what else might be in the desk, so I started digging. I found several small notes. All of them were just little sweet nothings she had left packed in my clothes on a business trip so I would find them when I got to my hotel. I must have put them in my laptop bag to save them and put them in my desk when I got back to work. I don't remember now. I do remember that she did these things all the time for me as I have a box full of similar memories from the course of our relationship. These things are my dearest possessions on Earth. I took some quick snaps with my camera phone so I could share them in this post. As I synced the phone to my laptop and checked the local directory for the images, I found more old photos of Erin and Henry that I'd taken candidly at some point. My God! How does one recover from a wound so deep? We can go on living, but how do we become alive? I know Erin would never want me to suffer. I am trying so hard. My boss tried to chat with me and I lost it within 2 minutes. My boss's boss tried to chat with me and I lost it immediately. There's nothing like an (almost) 35 year old man unable to speak in chin-quivering blubbering agony. I am trying so hard. I don't want to consider a leave of absence from work because I don't think it will help... only prolong. It is something I want so badly though... to just disappear for a while. Unhealthy. Anyway, I am faced with going to pick up Erin's urn today sometime. It seems like a simple enough task, but I know I'm trivializing it in my mind to ease the pain. Taking advantage of the time required to regenerate tears so they can be spilled again, I called and left voicemail for the detective regarding her belongings this morning. I haven't heard back yet. It is lunchtime and I know I need to eat something, but I'm not hungry. I'm physically and emotionally exhausted and I've only been awake 4 hours.

Erin's tree (photo by Dot Maxwell)

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that 's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impair'd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent! George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron. 1788–1824 Rain and dark skies seem to dominate the weekend. The sun would peek out from time to time, but for the most part it was stormy. The rocky road continues for me of course, but it is to be expected. I can't snuggle Henry enough. I feel incomplete through-out my day and battle the shakes like I have low blood sugar all the time. I teeter on the edge of nausea when I'm awake and fall asleep feeling like I am forgetting something. I am really trying to participate in life around me and have made some progress... baby steps. I went out for pub food and drinks with friends last night to a little place up the road. I would look across the room at happy people and remember how happy Erin always made me. Someday I'll be able to look at an elderly couple without wanting to burst into tears. I find that there are little triggers that set me off... unavoidable sentiments that pin-prick romantic dreams and plans to never be realized. On a lighter note, I laughed this week... belly rolling and out loud laughed... wanna pee your pants laughed... you know, that rare kind. Sean, Ted, and I went to see Nacho Libre at an advance screening on Thursday. It was a nice diversion. Sean and I went to the Houston Museum of Natural Science on Saturday to see the butterflies at Cockrell. I am trying so hard. It's difficult to explain. Emptiness and pain are the only words I can think of, but they don't really do a very good job. In the two weeks since her death, I have yet to be alone at home. Someone has always been around. Erin's body was cremated today. I can't bear to think about it, but it is comforting to know that her body isn't just laying in a funeral home refrigeration unit anymore. That was weighing heavy on my heart despite knowing that she was no where around. I was offered the opportunity to attend the crematory. I could not. I simply could not. I am supposed to be able to pick up her urn tomorrow. The final paperwork at the medical examiner's office is still not filed, thus preventing the release of her personal belongings she had with her at the time. She also has some personal effects at her employer's residence (where it happened), but I am not ready to revisit the scene for them... not just yet. Threads in the wind to be secured at a later date. Today, I am just worried about making it through today. Yesterday I had a similar goal. Erin brought joy to the lives of everyone around her... everyone she met was a recipient of her wonderful and caring nature whether they realized it or not. When she volunteered at the women's' shelter, she made some wonderful friends that I'd never met, but heard great things about on several occasions. They approached me about planting a tree in her honor someday and that day was today. I wasn't much more than a blubbering mess, but it meant a lot to hear these people go on and on about how amazing my wife was to them and how she had touched their lives and the lives of those around them... it wasn't any surprise to me of course! She was truly a blessing. The parts where they talked about how much she loved me and always talked about me were too much for me to take in. It is easy to get caught up in the fond memories and lose sight of the attachment to those emotions when you aren't part of them directly. I know they were only trying to cherish and honor her memory and not cause any additional pain, but it hurt so badly I felt like I was going to implode. In the end, it was a wonderful gesture and I'm glad that I attended, but the train wreck of emotion is nearly too much to bear. I know there is more coming, I just never know when exactly. For the moment, I am calm and other than the constant feeling of uneasy emptiness, I am ok... for the moment. My days are filled with spaces and moments... all of them commonly threaded by the wish that my wife was beside me with which to share them all. Earlier in the week, Sean told me about the Pandora project and since I think Erin would find this pretty cool, I'll share it with y'all now. Basically it is a music threading system where one song or artist can be linked to another through similar influences, melodic structure, etc. You enter a seed artist and the software will begin a stream that starts with the seed and then seamlessly continues through other artists that are in some way like the seed. Try it out... it's nifty. I'm going downstairs to watch Crash via DVD rental. I've not seen it, but I heard it was good. I go back to work tomorrow. I don't know if I'm ready, but I'm going to try. I want you all to know... whoever may be reading this... that your comments have helped. I read every single one with great appreciation. Even if I am not as communicative as I could be in reciprocation, your support is felt and cherished. I am still so confused about so many things as our little Etch-a-Sketch was just shaken clean. How do I continue? For now, I am struggling to just be. I pray that the rest will be presented to me at some point. Until then, it's one foot in front of the other on a path washed clean with tears. All my love... forever my wife. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. - Phillippians 4:13

For He Himself has said, I will not in any way fail you nor give you up nor leave you without support. I will not, I will not, I will not in any degree leave you helpless nor forsake not let you down - assuredly not! Hebrews 13:5-6 It would seem from the outside looking in, that I am progressing. Faced with soon being alone in the house and having to go back to work, I know I really have to pull it together and be strong. These last few days have been extremely hard for me. I'm sure it is the combination of many things... going through photos to send to Erin's family, dealing with the medical examiner's office and funeral home again, the cremation of her body finally being a reality about to happen, etc. It is the quiet moments when it all floods in on top of me. Yesterday I collapsed under it all. It was all I could do to not vomit from the torturous pain in my tears. I find myself still incredibly weak and shaking often even when not an emotional wreck. The little reminders cut deeper than the obvious things in front of my face. I use my bathroom everyday for the usual showers, teeth brushing, etc. with all of my wife's toiletries and makeup just before me and a closet full of her clothes out of the corner of my eye and seem to deal with it on some level that doesn't cause panic. I got dressed yesterday and sat down on our couch to put my shoes on and found a long, golden, strand of her hair attached to the base of my shirt... perhaps it made it there when she had hung it up in my closet... it would seem for that small moment in time, for that instant, that piece of hair was my most prized possession on Earth. I cried uncontrollably as I wrapped it around my finger. It was as if someone was slowly pushing a knife into my chest. Even now, as I try to type this, I weep. She was my heart... my joy in life. I am trying so hard to gain perspective and remind myself that it's going to be ok. I'm going to see her again someday. My daily existence seems so empty. I've been filling it with spending time with friends and trying to get out of the house a little each day to do something... anything. It still feels like I am just doing the motions, but there is not a heart beneath my actions. I pray for some direction daily. God, how I miss her... what world is there to see if never to share with whom your heart is bound? I found a book she gave me for my birthday last year. She wrote inside the cover a short affirmation of love and I can hear her read it aloud when I struggle through the words. If it were physically possible for a human being to die of a broken heart, I fear you would soon be mourning one more. I know without doubt that God will carry me through this, but the burden of life without her can not be expressed in words. I love you Erin.

Today is Erin's 27th birthday. I don't know how to express the melting pot of emotion I've been going through this past week, but I can perhaps clarify a few things for those not around me. I'm not even sure how to piece together my thoughts or even really what I want to say. I've received such support this week and am truly blessed to have people in my life that are so quick to be there for a friend in need. I understand how awkward it probably is to be in the shoes of someone looking in... there isn't anything to say or do that will make a difference in the midst of this tragedy. I know this and have tried to give as much grace as I possibly can for others to fumble through those uneasy conversations because I know that your intention is well placed and I feel the message underneath. So please don't apologize... there is no need. I also wanted to mention that I am not angry or full of some hate because of Erin's death. I'm not working through those emotions because they simply are not there to address. My wife was a Christian woman that was strong in her faith. I know she is with God. I know that I don't have to understand it all. She inspired me on every level to be better... more than I am. There were no bad times. There were no fights or arguments. Every moment we were together was full of mutual respect, admiration, and love. We made a home and had a family. It would seem that at any given instant I am smiling at her inside and longing for that day I can see her again while simultaneously feeling the most torturous pain I can recall in my short 34 (almost 35) years. My stomach in knots and providing only small windows of opportunity where the ability to eat presents itself. A weight upon my heart that is inexplicable. I've led a relatively adventurous life. I've traveled the world. I've seen wonders and experienced amazement. I've worn my heart on my sleeve and experienced love. I've shared with others and received. I have breathed failure and despair. I've overcome to achieved success and great things. I've witnessed life and death. We all have our path that we walk here and largely it unfolds before us completely out of our control regardless of how we plan, prepare, or think. As I reflect on my life and all the things that cumulatively comprise my being today, I surprisingly have found a great emptiness. Things that seemed important to me are trivial. Things that were of no consequence would seem paramount. Confusion and fear are a couple of descriptors that come to mind, but I can quickly place them aside because I realize I don't have control over anything anymore. Everything that I had become before last weekend was about being her husband and providing happiness where I could. I see in retrospect the small places where I could have done better, but we all have our flaws to discover. She was loved in life and I believe that she was happy. Her relationship with Henry was so special. I find myself asking her for help in how to comfort him because I can tell he is scared and confused. He looks for mommy often. He is a handful for sure and it's going to be hard filling her shoes with him. What a demanding little boy! This week has seemed like a year to me. Obviously I took off work. I found it hard to breathe much less think about functioning around people. I remember our last conversation on the phone. She was so happy. That was last Friday night (June 2). She was working late because I forgot to make the veterinarian appointment for the dogs. She had planned on coming home to pick them up and take them for their check up. Erin worked for a couple in The Woodlands as a personal assistant and office administrator. The couple was out of town on vacation in Mexico at the time. In addition to her normal job duties when they were gone, she cared for their home and pets. She was finishing up some work Friday night and making sure the dogs were fed, etc. when the sister of one of the home owners (Erin's employer's sister) came by to check up on the dogs and house. Her and Erin sat down for a visit and like most everyone Erin met, they hit it off and had some great conversation. The girl was recently engaged to be married and apparently was having some trouble planning details of the wedding and reception. Erin was fabulous at that sort of thing and offered to help her out, so they made a lunch date for Saturday (June 3) to talk it over and start the planning. They were having such a good time hanging out that she called her fiancé to come over. He brought over "bar-b-que fixins'" and they invited a few additional friends/family over, fired up the grill, and started to have a little cookout/pool party at the house. I was home keeping our little munchkin company and these details are what I received from Erin on our brief telephone conversations over the course of the evening. Each time I talked to her, she reiterated that she was just having a fantastic time and she sounded so happy to be having such unexpected fun. She had borrowed a swim suit from her bosses closet since she didn't have one with her at work and they were having wine and grilled goodies out back while enjoying the hot tub and the pool. My last phone call of the night was at 11:09. It was getting later and I was tired. I wanted to check on her ETA. When she answered, she was in the kitchen of their home straightening up while the others were outside. She sounded a little tipsy so I asked if she planned on driving home and how much she had to drink that evening. She told me she planned on staying a while longer and coming home after everyone left so she could tidy up the place and that she'd had 3 or 4 glasses of wine. I asked her to not try to drive home after drinking. After her accident in January, the mere thought of something happening to her was a terror much easier to visualize. You never know, right? She told me she didn't want me to be angry with her and I explained that I wasn't mad at all... just worried for her safety. Then she thanked me for caring so much about her. She said that she respected my judgment and "that's what husbands and wives are for... to look out for each other and let each other know things like this... when they have had to much to drive". I asked her to just stay and have fun hanging out with her new found friends and sleep there to be safe. She said she would sleep on the couch and call me first thing in the morning when she woke up. She also mentioned she would probably stop by to clean up and change clothes before her lunch date with the engaged sister of her employer the next day. I'm almost certain we exchanged our I-love-you's like we always do and said goodnight to each other. We both hated sleeping apart. She never called. Henry woke me up sometime around 9 or so. I remember not really starting to worry until close to lunch. I could see her sleeping in after being up late the night before so I tried not to fear. I called her a few times throughout the morning on both her personal cell and her work cell. As the hours passed I felt sick with worry. I drove to The Woodlands a couple of times trying to find her boss's home because although I'd met them once before, I had never been to their residence. Finally, after probably 50 calls of phones ringing through to voicemail they stopped and went straight to voicemail. I must have run down the batteries with all my calling, I thought to myself. I finally Googled the correct address and headed back to The Woodlands for another look. I passed a news van on the way into the subdivision, but thought surely it was coincidental and had nothing to do with her being missing. I had already called the police about a missing persons report but they simply had taken my number down and said they would have an officer call me. I found the house and her car safely in the driveway. Maybe she is out with this new friend she met, I thought. I looked through the windows and peeked around back all with no sign of Erin. The officer called me at that point and told me if I wanted to file a missing persons report I needed to stop by his office to fill out some paperwork. I was sick with fear. She was my whole life... what would I do if something bad should happen to her? I got the directions and headed toward the station. This was around 7:00 and I'd spent my entire day searching and worried. As it turns out, the whole time I was up north looking for my wife, the police were at my house looking for me. When Erin didn't show up for her lunch date with her new friend, she knew that she told me on the phone she was staying on the couch rather than driving, so she went to the house to see if she just overslept. She found Erin in the pool... drowned. It chills me to type it. I can't get my mind around my baby dying. She called 911 and her fiancé. When he arrived, the two of them removed her body from the pool and waited for the police. The new van was for her. All my fears were real. The love of my life was gone... just like that... The detective listened to my whole story. My conversation with Erin the night before and what I'd been doing going crazy all day. Only then did he tell me that my worst fears were true. He said that despite my account (via her) and the people that found her (that were with her the night before) checked out almost word for word, "due to the nature of the accident", an autopsy was ordered. The normal medical examiner was out on vacation so they were bringing in a fill-in from out of town. They wanted to rule out foul play and get a toxicology report. I briefly caught a glimpse of Erin and I snuggled tightly on the couch watching those detective shows (CSI, etc). This was my wife we were talking about. A wave overcame me that had been building all day. I don't know how to explain it, but shock might be a good start. I cried in desperation. How could this be? I called my mother and she set out on the road to be with me. I called my friend Ted because the detective didn't want me to be alone while my mother was in route. My body moved but I don't remember anything but pain. Sean flew in from Los Angeles the next day. I managed to make calls in between breakdowns. I would find a moment of composure and dial the phone to seize that ever so brief instant where I could get the words out before my heart exploded again. The hardest call of all was my mother and father in-laws. I received a lot of calls throughout the week... people offering their condolences and support. It truly is appreciated. I just couldn't take it all in. It was too big. It was just too much. Monday was the morning of the autopsy. I couldn't see her body at the ME's office because it is against their rules to do viewings, so I signed the release form to have her body transferred to a local funeral home. I was so scared to go see her, but I knew it was something I simply had to do. When I walked into the room, I collapsed before her and uncontrollably wept. She was completely covered except for her face to conceal the incisions from the autopsy. It was enough. I looked on in the most surreal state at the body of my wife before me and at that instant felt a small comfort because I realized unequivocally that she was simply not there anymore. It is a hard thing to explain. My wife was with God. While I was at the funeral home, I made arrangements for her body so I wouldn't have to do it alone later. Her body is to be cremated (it's what she wanted) and I'm not having any local services at this time. I am not ready to handle it. My friends and family have tried to keep my mind engaged this week and keep me busy to ease the intensity of mourning. I'm not very good at it. I sat around a lot. I watched a lot of television (and I'm not a big TV guy). I found myself lost in emptiness and pain. I didn't want to put on certain clothes because they were hung or shelved in my closet by her and if I moved them, they would never be put there by her again. I didn't want to pick up her dirty clothes from her closet because they still smell like her. I didn't want to wash her pillowcase or sheets. I didn't want to move her make-up or toiletries. Our entire house is filled with reminders of her. It's not a bad thing by any means... it just hurts so much. Her little toolbox in the garage or projects around the house she had in-progress... plants she was nurturing... everything... everywhere... it is all her. My life was about being with her and growing old with her. What am I to do? I managed (with the help of my mother and friends) to make some progress even if only a few baby steps. Ted took me to pick up her car last weekend and Sean went with me to get it all washed up and placed in our garage until I can think about what I'm to do with it. She loved her new car sooooo much. It is terribly cliché, but one day at a time is all we have. I find myself praying a lot for help... guidance. I know the best way to honor my wife is to serve God the way she did, but I'm a little rough around the edges. I also managed to move a lot of her schtuff into our master bathroom where I assume someday I'll sort it and put it away, but her closet is still as is... I can only take a little at a time. I've been out to eat a few times with my mother and friends. Most of the time I can make it through a meal/outing without breaking into tears. The first couple of days were the worst. The pain is a constant ache now more than sharp and debilitating. Last week I found myself exhausted and weak all the time. If you can image waking up and trying to clench a fist with those morning muscles we sometimes get... picture that over your entire body all the time. This week is better. My mother left this weekend to go home for a bit and Sean suggested that we go see a music show last night. I wasn't up to it at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought about what Erin would want. It was nice to get out and to spend time with friends, but my heart was heavy all night. When midnight came I was struggling to hide my emotion in what was otherwise a great evening. Erin's birthday. I'm probably going back to work this week. I need to go eventually and there isn't anything that anyone can do to help me get through this... it is just going to take time. I'm scared. I'm thankful for all of you in my life that have kept me in your thoughts and prayers. It's really all I could hope for... and it means so much to me even if I haven't been very communicative this last week. All my dreams and our plans for the future are just wisps of memory now and the thought of days, months, and years ahead is overwhelming. I hope that I can always be the man Erin would be proud of and I pray with everything that I am that I see her again someday. Be good to each other... Happy birthday Erin Lynn... I miss you so much.

On June 3, 2006, my life as I've known it from birth to present completely and utterly changed to never again be the same. I am consumed by blackness and pain. I am lost.