3 months... and a birthday

7/20/2014 (much of this written after 7/20)
3 months have passed since the accident. 12 weeks (actually it might be 13, silly calendar). I'm heading to the zoo with the kids today. Because it's summer and they don't need to be sitting around the house on electronics with me sad. I will also go down and visit the crash site, because I haven't been there in a few weeks and I feel the need to go. I need to sit for a bit and talk to him and remind him how much we miss him. Tell him what's been going on. Remember him. At first the site was a place I felt him around me. I felt like he was there with me, sharing in my sadness and grief. Because I do believe he's sad. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to leave his kids or me alone without him. He is missing his life, no matter how crazy it might have been and how stressed he might have gotten about it. I think that's the irony of death. In it we remember how lucky we are to be alive. But then we lose that feeling again all too quickly and get back to the mundane day to day of living. All the while forgetting how thankful we should be that we are even here. What a blessing our lives are. How lucky we are that we are healthy, have a roof over our heads, have a job, and have love and friendship in our lives. I don't feel him at the site as much anymore. I don't imagine it's a place he wants to be now. Although signs of the accident remain. The cross his best friends made remains there with his name on it. The marks on the tree where he hit are still there. They shock me back into that day when everything happened. Remind me of how quickly things can change. I hope that if he is around, he's at our houses with us - at his parents, his brother's and his sister's house. When I put the kids to bed I imagine him laying there with him, pretending to hold them. Giving them goodnight kisses. That's where I want him to be. Not at that sad place.

Adella's birthday was 4 days ago. That was a hard day. Adella's first birthday without dad, and nothing but wonderful memories of that day when Mike was with me. I labored all day at home, with Mike by my side. And I'll never forget how disappointed I was to find out that night I would need another c-section. And there Mike was comforting me and holding my hand, reminding me of what was really important - our baby would be here soon. And I will never in all my days forget the moment the doctor told him to stand up and he yelled 'it's a girl!' - the amazement and excitement in his voice. Me asking him if he was sure :) - since I really thought we were having another boy. Seeing him hold her, bring her to me. The wonderment of such a day. We were now a family of 4. One boy, one girl and us. Complete. And as Adella's birthday came it reminded me that we are now incomplete.... and always will be. A 3 year old who only had 2 birthdays with her father. How will I explain this to her when she's older? How will I make it OK for her? Her father won't be there to see her off to her first dance (and lets face it, he would have done that with a shotgun in his hand...) he won't be there to walk her down the aisle. That alone breaks my heart. I'm so sorry, my girl. I'm sorry you won't have many active memories of your dad. I'm sorry he'll be a photo on your wall and in albums for you. I'm sorry he's gone. But he will always be a part of you. And when I call you chunk-a-monk and Delly Bean, remember that is daddy talking.