Saturday, March 31, 2007

No matter where I turn in this house, I can't escape the torrent of 17 years of memories that flood my mind. I see him everywhere. I suppose that should be comforting, but I find that all I feel is a raw, overwhelming emptiness. I found myself at one point today trying to hide out in the bathroom just for a few moments of sanity - but realized his toothbrush was still in the holder by the sink and fell apart yet again.

I really need your help right now...

I have tried to think of ways to help sort this whole surreal event out in my mind, and it was suggested to me by my pastor to reach out for strength. I am asking for your prayers, if you are a person of faith, or your positive energy, if you have alternate beliefs.

On Sunday morning, March 25, at 7:23 am, I found the love of my life unresponsive, blue, and cold in our bed. He had passed during the night sometime, while we were sleeping. I found myself in some strange fog, calling 911 and performing CPR until paramedics and a physician arrived. The doctor, who had left his shift at the hospital and was on his way home when he heard the call, came to me while the paramedics were working and told me that "this was not going to be a successful resuscitation." Those words didn't register in my mind. I begged him to try everything he could, so they took him to the hospital and tried for over an hour to save him. There was no hope...and the doctor came out to explain to me and my three children that he was gone.

I cannot in a million years imagine how I am going to spend the rest of my life without him. He has been there for me for so long that I don't remember life before he was there. This has been an unimaginably hard week, and every minute I think it might get the slightest bit easier, something happens and I see him...I hear a song, or smell something familiar...it's just so hard to even breathe sometimes. I have cried until I think I can't make any more tears. There are just no words that can explain why a 39 year old man's heart would stop in the night. I am so angry...and lost...and forever broken.

I keep trying to be as strong as possible for the boys, but it is so hard. They're handling this better than I expected, but that's the beauty of the resiliency of children. Our oldest is much more acutely aware of the depth of this loss, as he and his dad have truly been best friends.

We have a wonderful network of extended family, friends, and church members who have come out en masse to comfort and assist in every way possible...but nothing is filling this gaping hole in my soul. At this point, I cannot ever imagine it being filled again. After days of constant activity, and people coming and going from my house, I find myself alone with my thoughts this evening. Please help me understand why this has happened...and how I can get through the rest of my life without him.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007






Three week-old kittens...is anything cuter?

Monday, March 12, 2007






J.P. and I visited with LP (Loud Pup) today...she's such a pretty dog, but looks so forlorn most of the time. She loves it when the kids pay attention to her. :)

Sunday, March 11, 2007







I took a few pictures of my 7 year-old yesterday while he was goofing around. I went a little overboard with the contrast and adding noise for effect, but it kind of fit the scene IMO. Do you think it's too much? My favorites are the first and last ones here...the bottom one for some reason makes me think of Norman Rockwell-esque kid paintings. As always, comments and critiques are welcome. :)

PS...he's doing well since the loss of our sweet doggie Peanut. I think having the baby kittens around has been helpful for us all. We're taking it day by day, and miss Peanut terribly...but those babies seem to help remind us that life goes on.

Monday, March 05, 2007






I am having a really hard time right now...my sweet, beloved chihuahua Peanut was killed this evening after being hit by a car. We aren't sure how he got out of the house, but he did, and as always, ran to the middle of the road for no obvious reason. We are all just devistated. I've held it together for a few hours but now that the house is quiet and the boys are finally asleep, it's really hitting me that he's gone. It's ironic that I can teach coping skills to hundreds of students but now that it's time for me to cope with a loss I can't find a way to handle it. I have many sweet memories of this crazy little dog and nothing will ever replace him in my heart or the hearts of my little boys. I think that's the hardest part for me, is helping them to deal with this loss. They're just completely heartbroken and it kills me to see them hurting so badly. I thought it might make me feel better to post a few pictures i have taken of him over the past three and a half years, but looking at them is really hard for me to do right now. I am glad that the kids didn't witness the event, and that Peanut didn't suffer or even know what hit him...but I do have faith that the idiot blazing down our road at jet speed gets what Karma has to offer him someday.

Rest in peace, little buddy...


Sunday, March 04, 2007











Today was the 83rd anniversary of the church we've been attending for the past several months. There was a wonderful service, then a yummy bbq dinner, and the grand finale was a HUGE concert. The music followed the past 83 years of the church and was enjoyed by the young and the young at heart. :)

I wanted to add this story I received in an email from a colleague. Enjoy!

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things "in order," she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her. "There's one more thing," she said excitedly."What's that?" came the pastor's reply."This is very important," the young woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."The pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say."That surprises you, doesn't it?" the young woman asked."Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the pastor.The young woman explained. "My grandmother once told me this story, and from there on out, I have always done so. I have also, always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement.'In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming ... like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!' So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder "What's with the fork?". Then I want you to tell them: "Keep your fork .. the best is yet to come." The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye.He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She knew that something better was coming.At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the pastor heard the question "What's with the fork?" And over and over he smiled.During his message, the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her.The pastor told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.He was right.So the next time you reach down for your fork, let it remind you ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.

Saturday, March 03, 2007

Game 4 - 3-3-07











Go Patriots!!! We won today, 6-2. It was an awesome game and the boys were firing on all cylinders today! Congrats guys!!! :)






Byron and I are creating a video yearbook for a private school in Plano (Great Lakes Academy). Here are a few snaps from the faculty-student basketball game last night. The students won, 45-44, at the buzzer. :)