One month down...

Dear Chris,
Here it is, one month since you passed away. In some ways, I still feel like it was just yesterday that you and I were spending an awesome Saturday at St. Mary's with so many of our friends and fellow parishioners listening to Jeff Caven's talk about the Great Adventure...A Journey Through the Bible. I remember looking over at you throughout the day and taking such pleasure in seeing you laughing so hard. Jeff was so funny and entertaining. Who would have thought reading the Bible could be so much fun? You and I were looking forward to furthering our faith journey together by taking this class and being one of the few Catholics that actually knew how to read the Bible :)! I remember walking hand and hand with you out of the Church and saying our goodbyes as you were headed home to relieve your parents from babysitting and I was going to drop by a friend's house who was having a belated Memorial Day BBQ.

One hour later my world stopped when I called home to check in and your mom answered the phone to tell me you had collapsed while at Woodmans and were being rushed to St. Joe's Hospital. I remember racing to the hospital and trying to call your cell phone over and over again with no answer. I called the paramedics that treated you, the police that drove to our house to notify us of your situation, the nurses station in the emergency room. They all said the same thing, "we cannot legally disclose information about a patient over the phone." NOOOOO!!!!! I knew in my heart it was not good. I kept praying the Hail Mary over and over again. I remember finally getting to the hospital and sprinting through the parking lot. I glanced over to another car parked in the lot and saw the license plates read "IM ALIVE". I thought that was a good sign. Inside your Dad was waiting for me in a small room off of the main waiting area. Another bad sign. I just kept yelling at any one I could find, "please tell me if my husband is alive!" And then the doctor came in with an older man dressed in a tan suit. I would later learn he was the chaplain at the hospital. I screamed as the doctor told me he worked on you for over thirty minutes but that you had not survived. NOOOOO!!!!! This cannot be happening. How could this happen to us? NOOOO!!!!! From that moment on, I was numb. I just kept saying, "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do." How can I live without you? How was I going to fill your shoes? How was I going to raise Matthew, Megan and Hannah without you? They are too young to lose their Daddy. I instantly thought of Hannah only being two and being so incredibly sad that she will most likely never remember you at all. Oh Chris, this is so not right!

Since then, time seems to be going so slow yet somehow it goes by. Matthew has finished baseball and soccer, Megan had her dance recital and learned how to ride her bike without training wheels and Hannah has somehow managed to potty train herself. We truly have three amazing kids. They make me laugh so hard at some of the things they do, I only hope in some way you are able to see it too. Just the other day I heard Hannah crying out in the garage and Megan yelling "Mama, come quick!" The garage door was completely open with Hannah suspended from the bottom of it. How she hung on for so long I do not know. There was at least five feet between her and the ground. They are what keeps me going. I cannot let them down. I try as hard as I can to keep their routine as it was, but now we are also trying to create a new normal without you. All this while still trying to find time to grieve. It is soooo hard!!!!

On top of taking care of them, I am also trying to get our life back on track and take over where you left off. I feel like I am going through orientation without someone here to train me. You did such an amazing job of taking care of us and you were so organized that it is going pretty well. I had no idea everything you put into place in the unlikely event that something should happen to you. Although we are suffering so much without you, we are truly blessed because things could be so much worse if you had not done such a great job of taking care of us before you passed. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so much and miss you more than words can express. Please continue to watch over us and guide me through this and please don't leave me again. Love, Betsy