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Matt and I were together for 10 wonderful years - met in 1998, married in 2002, until his untimely death on November 15, 2008. We have two beautiful, healthy children - Jacob (born 5/04) and Sydney (born 5/07)... the most precious gifts he could have ever given me.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Calm before the storm.

As I gained consciousness after the knock woke me up, I thought how quiet the house was. Then realized Matt wasn't laying next me, then the dread. More knocking. I know what that knock is. I know who is on the other side of that door and what they're going to tell me.

For a moment, I thought maybe if I didn't open the door, it wouldn't be real. Life can remain good if I just don't open the door. I took one look at the officer and knew it was over. My husband is gone. Father of our children. This can't be happening. Nothing will ever be the same.

This morning after getting out of bed, I relived that moment. I generally don't choose to relive this stuff - it just happens. Sometimes I can turn it off as soon as it enters my mind; sometimes it plays out against my will. There are times when I let myself relive some of those moments because it brings me closer to the time when Matt was still here. Somehow letting myself feel the pain makes me feel a little closer to him.

Two years later and I still can't believe he's gone. This kind of stuff only happens to other people. I just realized that Sydney has been without her daddy longer than she had him in her life- for six months now.

And now, here I sit, forced to review our life and the manner of his death in writing.

My date of birth. My address. Matt's date of birth. Our wedding date. Our children's names and dates of birth. His date of death. The location of his accident. The date and approximate time. The room where it happened. A detailed account of the multiple injuries he sustained including the physical and emotional anguish, anxiety, distress, fear of impending death... What he must have endured... These are the thoughts that torment me the most. No one will ever know how much he did or did not suffer, because he was alone the whole time. The fact that he was alone when he died sickens me (along with everything else about it).

I review it in my mind often enough without prodding - little flashes here and there that can come out of nowhere - but there's something about seeing it in print and signing my name to it... This weekend of all weekends, too, but I guess no time would have been good for this.


Anonymous said...

Hi Andrea, I only recently found your blog but thought maybe I couldn't relate too much because I am older (51) and my kids are older but this comment went straight to my heart. I find myself reliving the last few days of my husband's life quite often lately. It is so extremely painful. I like that you wrote that reliving those moments brings you closer to him. I don't think I even realized that I'm probably thinking about it so much because it brings me to the place when he was still here...It's been 6 months and I can't believe he's gone. I'm a little worried because even though I appear to be doing very my head I live in the past with him.

Michelle said...

I'm so sorry Andrea. I too HATE that my dad died alone. I'm sorry. I wish I could fix everything for you, and believe me, if I could, I would. Hang in the Andrea.

Michelle said...

(sorry, of course that should say hang in theRE, Andrea) You can make it through this day, I know you can. You've made it through many the past 2 years, and I know you'll make it through tomorrow, too. Praying for peace & strength for you, friend.

Anonymous said...

Thinking of you guys . . . .

I do it often, but I found especially at the anniversary it's hard not to relive those final moments - and when you have the papers to read through too - I'm so sorry, Andrea.


Robin said...

Thinking of you today Andrea. I know you are strong enough to make it through this day, I just wish you didn't have to be. Wishing you peace as always.

Glenda said...

sending you hugs!

Anonymous said...

I hate that *knowing* of what the policeman has to say before he says it. I knew before he told me. I hate that I knew.

Ophelia said...

Dear Andrea it shook my world too when I read this posting. What you went through so early in your life, if we want to speak logically, you shouldnt hv; as you have been robbed of a hubby; yr kids without a dad that though alone can drive one crazy but we cant question God's "motives", He Has a plan even if its a painful one for us mortal. I would like to think that perhaps if Matt had lived and Had Not been involved in That Accident, he may have suffered much more in a different way. Comfort yourself in that thought dear and Trust in the Lord for He knows BEST ultimately. Nobody can image relastically or feel that numbing pain as the person who has gone through this terrible bereavement but we can give our moral and emotionally support to you even though it is through blogsphere. Be strong and take comfort that even though he is gone; he is really not gone as Matts still lives in your heart and he has given you the ultimate prize; your children. God bless.

Jennifer M Karn said...

Andrea, I also relive the events of that day over and over in my head and I can't control it. It eats me alive that I was not with him when he died. I tend to think that I could have saved him. I hate when people say, "Don't do this to yourself. Don't think about it. Don't feel guilty." Well, it's not that easy. You just can't turn the worst part of your life off like a light switch.

You will live this the rest of your life. I can only hope (for your sake and mine) that some day we will be able to feel at peace again.

Peace be with you,

Ophelia said...

Dear Andrea, its me again. I went for Mass today and prayed for you and yr boys and hope that God will guide you and give you a second chance in love again. God bless.