My birthday

Warning: this post is a little raw. And a bit blunt. That's how I feel right now.

Tomorrow is my birthday. 42 years. That's how long I'll have been alive on Planet Earth. It's no small miracle I've made it this long.

I have some fun plans for the day, and that's good. But today, right now, I hurt. I miss Aimee. I'm terribly lonely. I feel so bad for Rowan, who also dearly misses her mommy. And we both seem to feel it worst at night.

Tonight Rowan and I are going to go to Donna's and having a little birthday dinner and cake. Then Donna is going to keep Rowan tonight and tomorrow so I can have the whole day to do what I want. And like I said, I have some fun plans. But after I leave Donna's house tonight and go home, I'll be there alone.

And I hate that.

I hate watching TV alone. I hate cleaning up the house alone, doing laundry alone, making lunches alone, And I sure as HELL hate going to bed alone.

That last one isn't just about sex, either, though trust me, I miss that. A LOT. It's when Aimee and I would sometimes just lie there and talk. Or hold each other. No matter what kind of day we'd had, holding each other at bedtime was always comforting and reassuring. And yes, I do also miss my and Aimee's sex life. Frankly, we had a great one.

A number of people close to me have asked me if I've started thinking about dating again. Hell yes, I've thought about it. Not because I have completely moved on from Aimee. How could I have already? No, I've thought about it because I miss so much the things she brought into my life.

Any ideas as to what my birthday wish might be?


PS: I didn't always hate living alone. I used to love it. I had a hard time coming around to marrying Aimee because I was enjoying my single life so much. I had my own space, answered to no one about how decorated it, what time I went to bed, what shows were on the TV. But I decided what I was gaining was worth more than what I was giving up. Wow, I had no idea how right that was.

Aimee's birthday dinner

Hi all, this will be a quick post. As many of you know, we had a birthday dinner for Aimee last Friday night. In fact, a few readers of this blog were there. But for those of you who were not, this is a quick recap.

"Happy Birthday Aimee, we will
never forget you!"

The evening was, in a word, wonderful. About 15 family members and friends met at Outback Steakhouse and had a nice dinner. We talked about Aimee, traded stories, and in general had a nice time. I made a wholly inadequate toast. Donna had some beautiful cards made up that she gave to everyone and said a few words. We had some cake, because a birthday party always needs cake. It was low-key, devoid of major emotional meltdowns (except by Rowan, at the very end of the night, because it was past her bedtime at that point), and had a spirit of fellowship of people experiencing a shared loss. In other words, it was exactly what I had hoped for.

My reason for having this event was simple - to remember Aimee's birthday in a way that invited others close to her to share in it and with each other. Burdens are lighter when carried with the help of others, and with Aimee's birthday, I just had this sense that the 'others' in my and Aimee's and Donna's circles could really use each other. I think I was right. And I truly appreciated all of those who were there in person or in spirit.

Considering why we were there, it was a pretty good night. I think Aimee would have approved.


PS: For those who don't know, there's a reason I picked Outback as a venue other than just that I like the food. I worked for them for almost 11 1/2 years, up until Aimee found out she was pregnant with Rowan. During the time we dated and the first year of our marriage, she would often come in late in the evening when it typically wasn't too busy, and sit at the bar and tease me/flirt with me while I worked. I really enjoyed seeing her, and many members of the staff there grew to love her (big surprise). So there was a really nice connection to her that I felt was recognized, even if just by me, by having her birthday dinner there.

Birthday letter to Aimee

Hey sweetheart,
Happy Birthday, my love. I know you can't read this, but I wanted you to know that even though you aren't here to celebrate your birthday, we're going to do so in your honor. I have a feeling you won't mind.

Hey Hon, you remember this hike through
the snow outside of Leavenworth?

You know, even though you're no longer with us, I still want you to know how much you meant to me this past year. Your love for me and for Rowan was so great and so wonderful that you've continued making us better people even though you're no longer here in person. Your presence is felt in every parenting moment I have with Rowan and in all the times your mom needs support that she would have gotten from you. When I feel myself getting frustrated or losing patience, I try to imagine how it'd make you feel if I lost my patience with one of our/your loved ones. I always said you made me a better husband and father than I would've been on my own. Seems like you're still doing that, even now. And Rowan's reactions to some things, and the way she handles certain situations, that's got you written all over it too. You did a great job as a mom. I'll try my best to continue what you accomplished with her.

The last four months have been so hard, but the legacy you've left has kept me going, as well as many others, I'm sure. I know that sometimes you felt burned out and wondered if you made a lasting difference. Oh Love, you certainly did. More than you'll ever know.

I can't even begin to tell you how much I miss you. It's not more or less because it's your birthday, it's a great big hole in my life every day. When we married we became one, and losing you has been like having a huge chunk of my body ripped off, leaving the rest unsure how to continue. But so far, I'm managing. Not easily or happily, but managing nonetheless. Much of the strength I find comes from my love for Rowan and the knowledge that at three years of age, she needs me. I can't truly honor your memory if I don't do everything in my power for her, now can I? So I live for her until I can also find the strength to fully live for myself once again as well.

I love you Aimee, love you so much. I dream of you, imagine you're here, ache for you daily.

Not the happiest of birthday wishes, I know, and I'm sorry for that. But I wanted you to know unequivocally how much you meant to me, and I hope that on your birthday, that sentiment might bring you some happiness.

Happy Birthday, Aimee. I love you.

-Patrick

PS: I hope you're celebrating at the grandest all-you-can-eat-for-eternity sushi bar up there in heaven. :)

Getting it from both sides

Lately I'm getting it from both sides.

Over the past couple of weeks, Rowan has become more and more open about Aimee's death, and the fact that she misses her mommy. We talk about it more, look at pictures more, and have even started watching some of the video from the Florida trip over the last two days (more on that later). I'm glad, because I don't want Rowan to bottle it up, but it's also hard. I hate to see Rowan's obvious sadness, and the occasional comment or question I just don't know how to respond to.

On the other side, Aimee's mom is becoming a basket case lately. It's COMPLETELY understandable - Aimee's birthday is coming up soon. As a parent, I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to face the birthday of a child you lost prematurely and for no good reason. But it means that EVERY time I've seen her over the last week, she's cried. A LOT. And clutches me and cries into my shoulder or neck. I know she's heartbroken, but taking on and trying to help her through her grief while ALSO trying to help Rowan, well, it's really wearing me down. Especially when you consider I'm far from chipper myself.

Donna and Rowan planting
flowers last summer

The latest episode was last night. Donna wasn't even supposed to come by, but she'd picked up some flowers for Rowan (very sweet of her) and stopped by to give them to her. The previous night she'd asked me about video of Aimee, and after she'd left I'd located our video camera. There are several videos we shot in Florida, some of them a lot of fun, and there are parts where you not only see Aimee and hear her voice, but a couple of places where she's laughing with this pure, joyful glee at the silliness happening in those moments. Rowan and I watched a few last night (at Rowan's request, once she saw the camera), and then again tonight. When Donna arrived, I asked her if she wanted to see a few of them.

She did.

And she sobbed. She grabbed me, dug her fingers into my shoulders and sobbed into my chest. All I could do was hold her.

I don't think things will get better for Donna until after Aimee's birthday. And like I said before, I totally get it. But good God it is hard to be an emotional support for her, and for Rowan, and deal with my own shit that lately has threatened to drive me crazy. Maybe that's why the anger has finally started to really hit me. I spent most of the day today just livid, and not at anyone or anything in particular, but just ready to scream or break something.

Rowan and I are going to get away for a few days. Probably couldn't have come at a better time.

Besides, I need Donna to get a better handle on things before my and Aimee's anniversary comes along. As much as Aimee's birthday is hard for Donna, our anniversary is the date I'm dreading.