Damien "Joey" Joseph Kam

Damien "Joey" Joseph Kam
February 11, 1965 - August 28, 2009

Honoring the great Memories...

Damien's Memorial Plaque was installed January 16, 2010. It is located in the Garden of Reflection Memorial Book. Inquire at the mortuary office if you are not sure of the location, and they will give you directions.



Pacific View Memorial Park
3500 Pacific View Drive,
Corona Del Mar, Ca 92625

Directions




One day we'll disappear together in a dream

However short or long our lives are going to be

I will live in you or you will live in me

Until we disappear together in a dream

~Wilco~

Damien's Memorial Plaque

Damien's Memorial Plaque

COLIN'S COLLEGE FUND

If you would like to contribute to Colin's College Fund in Damien's Memory:





Send a check to:



College Savings Iowa


P.O. Box 55119

Boston, MA 02205-5119



Reference #450079529-01 on the check






Or if you use Online Bill Pay you can issue a check as referenced above.







For more information regarding this type of account please visit: https://collegesavingsiowa.s.upromise.com/



A special thanks to Judy, Cyndie's Cousin, for putting together Colin's college fund.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

I'll have a blue Christmas ...

I just can't seem to get into the holiday spirit, other than doing things for Colin.  I still feel like I'm just going through the motions.  It actually kinda feels harder than last year, oddly enough.  Time doesn't always heal, at least not right away.

I saw him yesterday, and it's been a while.  I was cleaning out the hall closet, out of sheer frustration and nervous energy (shouldn't I have been wrapping presents or finish decorating the tree?).  Sitting there on the floor, refolding towels and sheets, disposing of expired medicines and old nail polish.  And there he was, standing above me with the same old pajama pants and white T-shirt, looking down at me with a sweet half smile half smirk that I had been accustomed to - as is to say "honey, you should go to bed now and not worry about that".  For one split second ... then gone.  No, I'm not crazy.  It happens from time to time (though less frequently now) - I either see him, or hear his words in my head.  I know he will always be looking out for us.

I miss him now more than ever.  This will be our 3rd Christmas without Damien.  So hard to believe!  I miss having someone to share all of life's joys with. 

Looking forward to starting a new year. 


It's been the longest winter without you
I didn't know where to turn to
See somehow I can't forget you
After all that we've been through

Thought I couldn't live without you
Its gonna hurt when it heals too
It'll all get better in time
Even though I really love you
I'm gonna smile cause I deserve to
It'll all get better in time

                                        ~Leona Lewis

Sunday, November 6, 2011





And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,

there will be an answer, let it be.

For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,

there will be an answer. let it be.


I'm still waiting for the answer ...

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Our Anniversary

Today would have been our 7th Wedding Anniversary, and we would have been together for nearly 12 years.  Sometimes I still feel "married", though I'm technically not.  I still feel like a wife, though my husband is no longer here.  I loved being married ... having a partner in life that I shared everything with.  And I know that I'm lucky to have had such a happy, fulfilling marriage.  I miss it.  It can be very lonely at times, even though I'm surrounded by friends.  I just miss him - he was my perfect match.  I dread the thought of having to go through the dating process again.  I don't even know if I'm ready ... I guess it would just depend on the guy and the situation.  *sigh*

I spent some time today looking at our wedding photos and remembering that day, such a wonderful day!  So many great memories, though painful still.  I'm happy for the time we had together.

Happy Anniversary Damien.  You will always have a piece of my heart.





     

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

My connection to 9/11

The 10th Anniversary of 9/11. It's so hard to believe it's been that long. I remember it happening like it was yesterday. Damien & I were both up early - he for work (when he used to have to commute from Long Beach to Pasadena), and me for school. I had turned on the computer ... it was back when I had AOL, and it was there on the news page - an airplane had hit one of the World Trade Center towers. Damien was in the shower, and I ran to put the news on the TV. I yelled into the bathroom that something bad was happening. He came out of the shower, and we both watched in disbelief as it all unfurled in front of our eyes. A tragic day that would change everyone.

I have a connection to that horrible day. It's not because I knew someone who worked in the World Trade Center. It's not because I had a loved one aboard one of those 4 doomed flights. It's not even because I'm from New York, although my family lived there and my brother and sister were born there ... that was before my time. It's a connection that wouldn't come until eight years after the tragedy. 9/11 left thousands of wives and husbands without their spouses, and children with out a parent. In a matter of just minutes, they were gone. Unexpectedly and without warning. Little did I know at the time that I would be standing in their shoes. And though the circumstances were very different, the loss of Damien was tragic and unexpected none the less. My heart breaks for every single on of those families.

I watched some of the Memorial coverage on Sunday, and as I watched those families, and heard them speak, it gave me hope. By seeing that they survived, and could even move on while still keeping their loved ones close, gave me a glimmer of optimism. I am awed by their strength, and draw from it during my bad times. The greatest impact for me was seeing the children of 9/11 - healthy, happy, well-adjusted kids - they hold their deceased mothers or fathers in their hearts, but they seem "ok". It gives me confidence that I may raise my child the same way. Knowing that he can still feel close to his Dad that he hardly got the chance to know. I have this vision for Colin. I hope to have the ability to see it through. I have one idea for achieving this, and will keep you posted ...

There were a couple of readings that they gave at the 9/11 Memorial Service that I'd like to share:

Turn Again to Life

Mary Lee Hall

If I should die and leave you here a while,
be not like others sore undone,
who keep long vigil by the silent dust.
For my sake turn again to life and smile,
nerving thy heart and trembling hand
to do something to comfort other hearts than thine.
Complete these dear unfinished tasks of mine
and I perchance may therein comfort you.


From Ecclesiastes:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:


 a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.


I hope to find happiness again, for Colin and I.  Damien wouldn't want it any other way.
 

Sunday, August 28, 2011

2 years

Has it really been that long? Seems like yesterday, 6 months ago, 5 years ago ... just depending on the moment.

I remember my sister driving me home from the hospital that morning. It was bight, sunny, warm - the complete opposite of how I felt inside. My whole being felt numb and overwhelmed. All I could think about while sitting in the passengers seat of my car was how Damien & I were never going to do anything together again. As we passed by a few of our favorite restaurants, I thought "we are never going to eat together their again" - and the same thoughts went through my head for the shops, parks, and even the gym that we had frequented. It was such a sad helpless feeling. That I can remember like it was yesterday. I had no idea the hell I was going to go through - the absolute lows, the day-to-day struggles, the stress and extreme sadness. The gut-wrenching heartache that no one should ever have to know.

But somehow, I have survived. I've come a long way from that day. Not to say that it's "easier" ... I've just learned how to deal with things, and I've become used to the way things are, knowing that they are never going to go back to the way they were. Moving forward, but still looking back sometimes. I know that I just have to keep going, no matter what. Afterall, I have a little guy totally relying on me, and I can't let him down. And when things get bad, I still feel like Damien is here, guiding me.

Two steps forward, one step back. That's how it is sometimes.

My whole life plan has changed ... so what do I do now? Where will we go and how will we get there? I don't know ... not yet anyway. There's still so much to figure out, and I just try to take it one day at a time, and one project/problem at a time. At least I feel I am thinking with a slightly clearer head nowadays. I still miss Damien every day and think about him all the time. I know I always will ...

~Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end~

Friday, July 29, 2011

Landslide



I took my love and I took it down
Climbed a mountain and turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills
Till the landslide brought it down

Oh, mirror in the sky - What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
I don't know, I don't know

Well, I've been afraid of changin'
Because I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder, even children get older
And I'm getting older, too

So, take my love, take it down
Climb a mountain and turn around
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down
The landslide will bring it down

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Going, going ...

Gone.  Just like that.  Damien's name has been removed from our mortgage.  And I hated doing it.  But upon the advice of a financial advisor, it has been recommended that I remove Damien's name off of all our bills and financial matters.  I feel like I'm deleting him out of my life, and it's a horrible feeling.  The next thing I have to tackle is his cell phone.  I can't bring myself to turn it off yet, but it's a huge waste of money, and I don't have any money to waste.  I'm giving myself  'til the end of summer ...

Just a tiny piece of all the heart-breaking details that need to be taken care of when someone passes away.

It's been almost 2 years already, and it's still hard to accept that he's gone sometimes.  I still have those moments when I turn around and expect to see him standing there with that ever-present smile on his face.  A smile that now only exists in photographs.


And sometimes, when Colin is sleeping, I'll sit and watch the airplanes taking off from John Wayne airport.  It helps me remember all the wonderful trips Damien & I had taken together.  And in some way, that brings me a little bit of peace. 

And I'd like to think that when Colin and I are flying somewhere, we might just be a little bit closer to him ...


Fox Glacier, New Zealand, getting ready to climb




New Zealand - Damien with his favorite dessert, carrot cake

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Keep Calm ...

"This too shall pass, just keep calm and carry on ..."
This statement has become my motto, a daily mantra of sorts.  Lately, I've been having to repeat it over and over again to maintain my sanity.  These past few days have been hard, and I'm not exactly sure why.  It's been a trail of never-ending confusion, stress, and worry, sadness and frustration, with some anxiety to top it all off.  Could it be lack of sleep?  The endless attention that my 3 year old all of a sudden requires and the whining/crying/falling apart that follows when he doesn't get what he wants?  The flood of memories brought about by old photos?  The fact that, as much as I try to ignore it, that Father's Day is tomorrow?  The every day reality of having to go it on my own, without my partner to stand by me, help me, and hold me up?  The lack of control that I feel over my life right now?

I've just felt out of sorts this past week ... and just hoping that this, too, shall pass.

This picture of Damien was from the 4th of July, 2009.  It always amazed me that he could smile and truly be happy, no matter what.  At this point, he had to wear the oxygen 24/7, and had a difficult time getting around.  But he was happy to have his family & friends - just to be with us.  I try to draw strength from that ... he has taught me a lot.

Just breathe ...

Sunday, May 29, 2011

My absent mind ...

There are still times when I feel like I've lost my mind ... literally - where did it go?  Part of it comes from having a 3 year old, but I think most of it comes from the loss of my partner in life.  There are still many times when I need him, and instinctively reach out for that which is no longer there ...
Last Monday, after having a rough morning with the toddler who woke up far too early for his (and my) own good, I managed to mindlessly slice off a good chunk of my pinkie finger with a mandolin.  It was lunch time, and there I was with Colin sitting at the counter while I made him a sandwich.  Then he said he really wanted some cucumber too, so out came the evil mandolin.  I sat there slicing away, staring out the kitchen window, tired already and wishing I wasn't so alone in this - then bam, the burning pain of the cut.  It bled like crazy, but I just grabbed some gauze and wrapping and figured a nice tight wrap would do the trick - which it did, for a while.  So later that afternoon, as Colin woke from his nap, I thought I had better check on the cut, because it was really throbbing.  The instant I removed the wrap, it started bleeding again - a lot!  And at that very moment, for just one split second, my instinct was to call Damien.  He would come home and watch the baby while I went to urgent care ... he would take care of everything ...

Was it from the pain in my finger, or in my heart, that caused this temporary mind lapse?  This still happens from time to time.  It's weird.  It's sad.  But it also goes to show how much he is still with me ... in my mind and heart.  He made a profound impact on my life.  And despite the outcome, I wouldn't change any of it.  I only wish we had more time together, all of us, as a family. 

My finger is doing ok, healing slowly.  My mom came over to take care of Colin while I went to the doctor.  And after all of that, he decided that he didn't want the cucumbers after all. 

Saturday, April 16, 2011

The single-parent life

Doing double duty ... that's the story of my life now.  It's hard.  I realize that I only have one child, and so many other single parents have more - but none the less, it's hard

Today I took Colin to see Bubble Fest at the Discovery Science Museum.  It was a gift for Colin's birthday, and so exciting too, since it was our first time seeing the show.  And it was totally worth it!!!  But it's days like these that I really notice Damien's absence - first, because I know how much he would have loved it, and second, because of having to handle these things alone.  It was Saturday, and therefore crowded.  It was a special event, and therefore extra crowded.  It was 90+ degrees outside - freakish for this time of year.  It was loud in the museum with lots going on.  I'm dragging around the stroller (next time it stays in the car!), my backpack, and my kid.  My kid, who has a mind of his own and wants to see and touch everything.  We had to wait in line inside the museum before the show - and I sadly (and jealously) watched other sets of parents.  One would wait in line, while the other would play with the kid(s).  I miss those days.  I had to try to wait in line while kind of letting Colin play - which came to a halt the minute he disappeared behind a corner, and Mommy nearly had a heart attack!  We finally got seated, exhausted and sweat dripping down my back, and the show started.  Seeing the look on Colin's face - complete wonderment and happiness - and I know it's all worth it.

We had a great time :o)  And I'm not complaining ... just learning how to handle it.  Life's too short to sit on the sidelines.  I'd rather have a little stress and sweat for the adventure.

Welcome to the single-parent life.

Colin inside a bubble - I think this was his favorite part!


After the show ...


Colin giving it a try
   

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Time flies ...

My baby turned 3 yesterday ... where has the time gone already?  Having Colin was the best thing that ever happened to us, and I'm so glad that Damien got to experience being a Daddy, even if for a very short time.  And although being a parent is the most difficult job in the world, I can't even begin to imagine my life without Colin in it.  I love him more than I could ever think possible.  And I know we share a strong bond.  He is my parting gift from Damien, and in Colin, I will always have a piece of him.

So Happy Birthday to my little man - you amaze me every single day.  And you mean more to me than you'll ever know!  Mommy & Daddy are both so very proud of you!   ♥ your Mommy

Just born! 4/6/08

Daddy & baby ... in awe of each other.

One week old

Nap time!


1st Birthday

Add caption

2nd Birthday

Sitting on a beach ball at his party :)

3rd Birthday

With his oldest friend, Avrum

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

moving forward while looking back

Tomorrow our baby turns 3!  It's so hard to believe, and time has gone by so fast.  Tonight at dinner, we were talking about Daddy.  Colin ate all of his dinner, so I let him have some mochi ice cream for dessert.  Then I told him that ice cream was Daddy's all-time favorite thing to eat.  He then made a heart-breaking statement to me - "I want to SEE Daddy!"  All I could think to tell him was that he can "see" Daddy anytime he wants in the pictures, but that he's not here anymore.  It's a difficult concept, and harder still to try to explain it to a 3-year-old.

So a friend suggested that I show videos of Damien to Colin, which I think is a great idea.  Especially clips of the two of them together.  He can then hear his voice again, see him moving around.  The problem is that I haven't been able to watch any videos of Damien yet, and I'm afraid that when I do, I might break into a million little pieces all over again.  I know some widows immediately start obsessing over videos of their lost partner.  Then others, like me, aren't able to face it.  Yet.  The time will come.  Maybe sooner than later ... I'm not sure.  I still get a bit anxious just thinking about it.

We will miss Daddy tomorrow - the day our little man turns 3.  It's so hard to move forward while looking back.


The night before Colin's 1st Birthday

The night before Colin's 2nd Birthday



The night before Colin's 3rd Birthday



     

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

There's something missing ...

A lot of people ask me if Colin knows what happened to his Daddy, if he wonders where Daddy is, etc.  Up until now, I would say "no", mostly.  He was only 16 months old when Damien passed away.  But every night, he kisses Daddy's picture in his room, and says "goodnight Daddy, I love you Daddy". 

But things have been changing lately.  He's almost 3, and I think he's noticing that something is missing.  Usually, when he's playing with his cars, trains, or stuffed animals, he'll often pretend that one is a "mommy" and one is a "baby" ... he's done this for a long time.  But the past couple of days, he's has been including a "daddy".  It would make sense ... after all, that's what he reads in books, sees on TV, and is around when we are with friends.  A mommy, daddy, and baby(s).  Tonight, I was reading one of his favorite books about an mother owl who has to leave her babies at night to search for food.  One of the owl babies says "I want my mommy!".  Colin followed by saying "I want my Daddy!".  He just said it, not with a sad face or with any emotion ... just a statement.  But it was heartbreaking none the less.  He is realizing that his Daddy is missing from the picture.  I think he's trying to figure it out, as much as a toddler can.

We include Daddy in a lot of our conversations ... "your Daddy really liked ice cream" or "that was Daddy's favorite color", etc.  I tell him that Daddy passed away, he's no longer here, but he's in heaven watching over us.  When Colin does something good or special, I tell him that Daddy must be very proud.  I tell him that Daddy is always looking out after him.

Colin, who has always been a really good sleeper, has been waking up the last several nights ... he stands in his crib and calls out "mommy, mommy, mommy" until I come into his room.  Then he lays back down and just wants me to put his blanket back on him.  Tonight, my kid who normally loves his own space and his own crib, told me that he wanted to sleep with mommy.  Something I only let him do when he's sick.  But what could I do ... he's now curled up in my bed for the night.      

Monday, February 28, 2011

A year and a half

It's so hard for me to believe that so much time has passed already.  It's been a year and a half today since Damien passed away.  So much has changed since then.  Colin has gotten so big, and he continues to grow and change every day.  I really wish that Daddy could be here to see all that, to experience first-hand like he always wanted to.  He would be so proud of his little man!  I've changed so much too.  My way of thinking and my whole perspective on life is different now.  I've learned how family and friends and experiences are so meaningful ... so much more meaningful than any material item ever could be.  Time is precious.  We are in no way guaranteed our time here.  I have learned to make the best of it, as best as I can, each day.  I've learned to take better care of myself, so that I can be a better mother.  And I've learned to let go of anger, disappointment, jealousy - toxic emotions if kept around too long.  If I break a plate, I no longer freak out about it, or get mad.  After all, it's merely a plate ... a material item that can be replaced.  In general, I guess I've learned to calm down, to keep my anxiety at bay, to *attempt* to focus on the positive, take on only what I can handle, and just breathe.  It's still hard, but I think I am learning to adapt to my "new" situation.  It's a slow and sometimes very painful process.  But I never imagined I'd make it this far with my head still screwed on (although there are still those days when I think I might lose it!).  It's amazing what you can do when you have to.  That said, I still found today difficult ... mostly because the "date" was stamped into my mind.  So I found it really hard to concentrate and get anything done.  But tomorrow is another day ...

Love and miss you always Joey!

Friday, February 18, 2011

You're a widow?

I wonder why it is that I can talk to family & friends about Damien's death relatively easily, yet when I have to tell a stranger that I am a widow, I nearly fall to pieces.  I can always feel my eyes welling up.  Maybe its the shocked and sad look they give me ... the one that says "Oh my god, you're a widow?, you're so young, and you have this young child, how did this happen?"  And these well-meaning strangers always want the details - I guess it's so unbelievable to them.  And that always opens the wound again for me. 

I took Colin to a free developmental check up at a local kids museum today.  It's a great service that checks your child's hearing, vision, teeth, motor skills, speech, etc.  I've been a little concerned about Colin's gross motor skills, and I've always noticed that his shoulder were slightly uneven, and he used to have a little bit of a head tilt.  Anyway, you have to fill out all this paperwork, including information on the father.  Then I have to explain it to the doctors, nurses, therapists, etc.  That just shot my day down.  As for the little man ... he has low muscle tone (common in Asians - who knew?)  and they do want him to go to a physical therapist to work on that, and his posture, and his flat feet (which totally come from Daddy!).  He'll be ok ... and I'd like to think I will be too.

Long day ... yes, I am a widow, and I'm exhausted.

Monday, February 14, 2011

V-Day

Although Valentine's Day has never been my favorite holiday, it's still difficult to face without Damien.  We purposely never made too big of a deal out of it, believing everyday should be about love :o)  But he always brought me beautiful red roses, and some other little surprise of some sort.  Often times, he would cook a special dinner for me, which I loved the most!

But today kind of just came and went, like all the others - I felt a little sad, but mostly ok.  My mom's group had a little Valentines Day party for the kids, including food, crafts, and fun with friends.  I received some sweet little gifts and messages from friends and family - Thank you much :o)  I am blessed to always have people in my life who make sure I never feel alone.  And keeping busy helps me get through too.


I will always be grateful for the 10 years I had with Damien, for all the good times we shared, for the family we created.  I would never change that.  And I will always miss him.

 

Friday, February 11, 2011

Happy Birthday to my sweetest Damien.  I remember all the fun parties and dinners we had for your birthdays.  I miss you so much.  You will always live on in my heart.

Some great memories:

30-something birthday @ Joe's Crab Shack :o)  Although Damien was known for being quiet, he was still a nut and knew how to have a good time!!!  I can still hear his laughter.


The Big 4-0 at our apartment in Long Beach - 2005.  Good times with good friends - that was always the only thing he wanted :o)

Today, we went over to Damien's memorial plaque to leave some flowers from his mom, stepdad, and us:




Beautiful sunset with a view of Catalina

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Happy New Year!

Happy Year of the Rabbit!

~Peace and Happiness to all~

Monday, January 31, 2011

Waterfall

Another day, another letter that needs to be sent off with a copy of the death certificate and an affidavit that needs to be notarized. So I get in the car and head over to the UPS store on Bristol street. The death certificate, again and again ... it is required for just about everything. Having to look at it over and over can prove to be too much at times. To have to see the words ...

Driving back home the memories come crashing down on me like a waterfall. I am surrounded by all the places where our lives took place. I remember all the times we would go to South Coast Plaza to shop or just to walk around. Take the baby on the carousel. Eat at our favorite restaurants. Champagnes, Pacific Whey, Ruby's, Wahoos, Boudin. Spending time together. Talking about anything and everything. Going into labor at Macy's. Seeing shows at the OC Performing Arts Center. Hanging out with friends at Jerry's Deli. Laughing together. Watching the seasons come and go. I could pick up and leave this place, but honestly, I don't want to.

This happens to me whenever I have to deal with the "business of death". It always brings everything to the surface. And there is still so much that needs to be dealt with, but I can only handle it a little at a time. Piece by piece. I continue to take baby steps on my journey ...

The car ...

On September 22nd of last year, I said goodbye to Damien's car.  I could barely watch as the man pulled out of my friends' driveway, drove through the gates and out of sight.  A car I could not use, and had no reason to keep, became the possession of a young couple, just starting out together, and in need of a car to share to get them to and from work and school.  I had little to do with the actual showing, test drive, and sale of the car - I thankfully have great friends who happily took care of all of that for me.  Emotionally, it was just too much for me to take care of by myself.  Not to mention that Damien's car had a manual transmission, which I never learned to drive.  So all I had to do was show up and sign the pink slip over to the new owner, and the deal was done.  The man who bought the car had a nephew who was in great need of a reliable car for himself and his girlfriend.  So I really feel that the car went to the right person ... someone who needed it and wanted it, and who was not going to strip it for parts, etc.  I know this would have made Damien happy.  Anyone who knew him knew that he always wanted to do the right thing.  He cared about people, animals, and the world we live in, and always did his best to give when and where he could. 


A couple of weeks ago I was taking Colin for a walk in his stroller around the neighborhood.  It was getting dark, and we were at the intersection of Del Mar and Elden, fairly close to our house.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a maroon-colored PT Cruiser that had just pulled up to the four-way stop.  The hubcaps and roof rack were all too familiar, as was the hum of the engine, so I waited at the corner for the car to drive away.  And sure enough ... the familiar license plate, committed to memory a long time ago ... it was Damien's car!  A sense of calm came over me, and seeing the car again actually brought a smile to my face.  I pointed it out to Colin and said "there goes Daddy's car!".  I knew that the new owners lived somewhere in the neighborhood, so I thought it might be likely that I'd see the car from time to time.  But I should mention that I was having a particularly rough and stressful day.  And I always notice that Damien finds a way to be near me on those bad days.  And that was him on that particular day.     


Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Sick days ...

I woke up this morning not feeling so well ... not so much a flu, but headache and sinus problems, and lack of sleep.  I really just wanted to lay on the couch all day and mindlessly watch TV.  But this is not the case when you have a 2 year old running around, full of energy.  I laid on the couch while he watched Sesame Street, but then he really wanted to go outside and play with his new basketball hoop and ball.  So I had to give in, but then I later convinced him that we needed to go inside and do puzzles.  Nap time couldn't come soon enough for me, so I could lay on the couch some more. 

Long after nap was over, I looked up at the clock ... it was almost 6pm and I was exhausted ... and for one half of a second, I caught myself thinking about Damien coming home from work soon.  He always came home around 6.  And he always helped me with everything, especially when I wasn't feeling well.  Sometimes these little "memories" just smack me in the face.  On days like this, it's difficult to accept that he's gone.  I miss him on so many levels. 

And, as always, the house just seems too quiet.   I miss the sounds of him playing with Colin, or giving him a bath, and both of them laughing.  Damien had a special bond with Colin.  Sometimes I do think about how unfair it is that such a wonderful, loving Daddy had to be taken away from his son.  I try not to dwell on it though.  Staying stuck in the negative for too long isn't going to do us any good.  Instead, I try to remind Colin everyday about his Daddy, and the things they used to do, and what a great Daddy he was. 

I really should go lay down now and get some sleep.

After all, tomorrow is another day.    

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

New Year

And it's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass
~Counting Crows~

2011 has arrived, and I'm feeling at least a little bit of motivation now that the holidays are over.  I really feel like I have to change some things this year.  I can't keep drifting through the days.  Here are a few things I am determined to get done in the coming year.  Call them resolutions if you want.  I prefer to think of it as my To-do List. 

1.  Lose weight.  I know, this is everyone's New Years Resolution.  But I'm determined to do this.  I need to get healthy, and have more energy to keep up with Colin.  I am a stress/emotional eater of sweets and other bad things ... I have to change that.  I need to lose 30 lbs to get back to my normal healthy weight.  I don't think that's asking a lot of myself, is it?  I know I can get there. 

2.  Get the house and myself organized again.  I used to be totally organized - everything had its place, and I knew where everything was.  Then we had a baby, and all hell broke loose ;o)  Then Damien got sick ... I just couldn't keep up.  And it's been an uphill battle ever since.  You should see my garage (some of you have!) ... it's scary, and completely overwhelming to me.  There's so much stuff I want/need to get rid of.  But its a huge task, at least in my eyes.  I don't like feeling this out-of-control.  I have to change this.

3.  Get the finances in order.  The savings goes quickly when you're not looking (or paying attention).  There's a lot I need to cut down on.  Just getting back to the basics (do I really need 200 TV channels?).  I still haven't turned off Damien's cell phone.  I need to do that (it would save me money).  It's just a really difficult thing to do.  Each time I get rid of/sell/turn off something of his, it's like another little piece of him is going away.  And that scares me.  It feels like he's slowly fading away from me.  The thought of turning off his phone depresses me, which leads me to go eat a bag of cookies (see To-do List #1).  I need to sell some stuff and find some affordable health insurance for me and the little man (the COBRA just went up, and it's outrageous!). 

4.  Keeping Daddy's memories alive for Colin.  I have some ideas for this one, stay tuned ...

Just a few things to keep me busy and keep my mind from going to the sad places.  Hello 2011.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Happy New Year

Goodbye 2010.  I can't say that I'm sad to see you go.  You've been the hardest year of my life.  I need a fresh start.  A new set of numbers.  A different perspective.

Hello 2011.  I hope you bring better things.  More energy.  Strength.  Rest.  Time to catch my breath.  Recouping and reorganizing.  Re-thinking things.  Just a little bit of Peace.

Happy New Year!  What now?