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





     

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.      

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!

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.

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.

 

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

Happy New Year!

Happy Year of the Rabbit!

~Peace and Happiness to all~