The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

It truly amazes me how much of a difference a month can make. This time last month we didn't have any snow on the ground, the leaves were still on the trees in their brilliant yellows and oranges and the sky was almost always a stunning blue. Now the snow blankets the ground and there is a constant haze of clouds in the sky. Little E even commented on how blue the sky was on the one clear day we have had in the past few weeks. I think she really misses going outside more and will be very excited for winter to be over, just like the rest of us. But for now she enjoys eating snow whenever she has the chance, but she doesn't like how cold it gets her hands when she grabs it. She also enjoyed sledding for the first time down a hill the other day. I will blog more about that later when I have uploaded the pictures from my camera. Needless to say, she thought it was awesome. But I really missed you being there for that first. I was sure you would have been so excited to push her down the hill and watch her giggle and scream the whole way down.

One of the big differences this month has made is in my outlook on life. In the beginning of November I was in a pretty bad place. Most days were ok, but there were some real nasty ones mixed in. I wasn't even going to write about them, but I think it is a good idea for me to be able to look back and remember how bad it was so I can be grateful for how good its becoming. November 7th was a Sunday and it was one of the worst day's I have had so far. I was at our house and went to church just long enough to get the sacrament because Little E was sick and I didn't want to spread her germs to all the other little kids. My dad had come to help me get to church and back. After he dropped me off back at home, I went into our room to get dressed. That moment hit me so painfully. I walked into the room and looked at our bed and realized that you really aren't coming back. Most Sunday's we would get home from church and both throw our clothes on the bed, often we would eat something and then lie down for a nap together. I looked at your side of the room and wished so desperately that you could walk into the room and mess it up a little while exclaiming that you were starving. :)

Little E was in the other room entertaining herself with her doodle pad and I just collapsed into the bed and sobbed. I couldn't take it. There was just no way that you were never going to do those things again. It couldn't be possible. I didn't know how I would ever be able to move again. After a few minutes Little E came in and saw that I was crying. She tried to distract me and comfort me and I was finally able to get up. But I was still in one of my panic attack moments. I had to go somewhere, do something, find you somehow! There needed to be a place that I could feel you. I finally thought of a place I hadn't looked yet. It was the place we liked to hike in the summer by Kelly Canyon. I thought of all the wonderful times we had shared there and thought surely if I made the effort to haul both our kids up there and hike the trail I would feel something. Have some kind of reassurance that you were near.

So I put everything into the car with tear filled eyes and tried to find my way up to that stupid mountain. I don't know what it is about that place but even though I have lived her all my life I can never find it or find my way home without getting lost a few times in the process. I found it by asking directions when my map proved to be too confusing and drove quickly up the road to the trail. The whole time I was driving I secretly hoped that something would happen to us on the way. Maybe we would get in an accident with another car or lose control and go off the road. It was frightening how much I really wanted to die in that moment. I don't want anyone to think that I would ever consider killing myself, but at that moment I really wished someone or something else would do the job for me. It was just too painful to imagine going on that way. I even scared the pants off of my sister with a message I left for her on her phone. It was fairly innocent sounding, I just said "Hi, I am going up to Kelly Canyon for a hike with the kids. I just wanted you to know so that if you couldn't get a hold of me you wouldn't worry." but what she heard was, "Here is the place to send the search party." She is pretty perceptive sometimes...

Anyways, after my panic stricken drive up to the mountain I finally pulled up next to the trail. No one else was there and I quickly put Little M in the wrap on my front and Little E in the hiking backpack on my back. She was all excited to go for a hike and Trek was pretty happy too. I even wore your hat because I thought somehow it might help me feel like you were there too. I huffed and puffed my way up the trail, back and forth across the stream, and got about a half mile up to near where we took that picture. It was very pretty, but kind of cold and I knew I couldn't go much further carrying both kids. So I let Little E down to play near the stream and look at the little water falls.

Its really funny but even though I didn't "feel you there" I did feel better. Part of it was just the exertion and that I was doing something instead of just holding still and grieving, but it did help. I slowly started to calm down enough to consider going back to my parents house. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle going home yet. Right about that time a nice man came up the trail. He looked at me and said "What are you doing up here with two kids by yourself?" and I explained my situation. The poor guy was pretty shocked and wanted to give me some money, but I told him how well you had taken care of us and said that if he really wanted to help he could help me get Little E back up on my back. It was pretty tough getting her there by myself. He did and I hiked back down. There were  a couple of horse back riders getting ready to head up the trail and Little E had a good time petting them before we got in the car. Then we finally headed back down the mountain... and got lost for over an hour... I really hate that drive! The worst part was that Little E was throwing a fit the whole time over a berry that I hadn't let her keep. She is holding it in her hand in this picture. She called it baby berry and I was nervous she would eat it while I was driving and not watching her so I made it a little bed and put a leaf over it like a blanket trying to appease her even though she couldn't have it... my plan didn't work. I just ended up with a screaming toddler in the car. :(

Anyways, that was one of the worst days yet, and I am truly amazed at how different I feel now, a month later. This week I am doing pretty good. I am slowly coming to grips with the reality of your absence and I realized something important. I don't need you. I know that sounds terrible, but it is important for me to know. I don't need you. I really really want you, and I wish you were here all of the time, but I can and need to do this without you here. I don't have a choice. That's the ugly truth I have to face. So its important for me to remember that "I can do hard things." I also am realizing that I have so much help around me. My parents are willing to do anything I need, my sister and her husband help Little E to feel like her family is complete and are great at distracting me. My ward is truly amazing, I am getting invitations to do things all the time (I haven't been able to do most of them because we all keep getting SICK! Blah. I can't wait until winter is over and we are healthy most of the time again.) So with all of this help available, I am coming to grips with me having to live without you, and living with the fact that I can do that. That I am going to do that and that I will enjoy my life even without you here. I know that this is a good point and that I will most likely plummet back down on my constant roller coaster ride in the near future, but I wanted to point out to myself how different I can feel in such a short time. Because someday I will probably need the reminder.

I love you so much. I miss our long hikes together, talking about all of the cool things in nature and the wonderful plans we had for our future. I miss so much about our life together. Little E asks for daddy stories every night now. She loves hearing about you and when she wakes up in the night she begs for more stories. She really misses you too. Tonight I told her about our last Saturday together and you swimming under the kayak and blowing bubbles like she had in her bath tonight. She laughed and laughed and told me she remembered that. I think that she remembers more than I realize. I hope that she can hold on to those memories. I will try to help her be able to. I want her to always know how much she meant to you.

Love,
Jenny