When Aimee's mother met my new girlfriend

This is one of those posts I wrote months ago (last spring, actually), but didn't feel like it was a good time to post it. Obviously, some things have changed since then.

Donna has been aware of my dating Sarah since basically the beginning. While she'd been very supportive of the idea of me getting out and dating again, once I was actually dating someone, it became a little harder for her, at least initially. There was no way around it - in a way, I was on my way to replacing her daughter. Donna saw that eventually someone else was going to fill some of the roles that Aimee had filled, particularly Aimee's roles as my companion and as Rowan's mother. And I realized that if I did in fact get remarried someday, that would also potentially bring in new grandparents, aunts, uncles, and more. More relatives to share attention with. More people 'competing' for Rowan's time, attention, and possibly affection. (Donna doesn't care a whit about getting my attention.) :)

But I give Donna a huge amount of credit. She also remembered what it was like to lose a spouse, and she completely understood my desire to find companionship again. I also assured her that seeing someone for more than a few months did not automatically indicate wedding bells in our future. This would take time.

So she continued to be supportive and understanding, and she trusted how I handled things with Rowan. It also continued to be hard for her, but she bucked up and bore it.

And then Donna and Sarah met.

I was preparing to go out of town for work for a few days, and Donna came by the house to pick up Rowan. Sarah was there spending a few hours with me before I left, and I let Donna know that Sarah was there so it wouldn't catch her off guard. Donna said that was fine.

When she arrived, the three of us (Sarah, Rowan, and I) were out in front of my house enjoying the last bit of sunshine of the day. As Donna got out of her car, she immediately walked over to Sarah and hugged her. I was amazed. In that one brief moment, Donna put Sarah at ease and her own discomfort aside, and welcomed her.

I honestly didn't know what to expect, but that wasn't it. Seeing Donna's reaction was so heartwarming to me, knowing that she'd do whatever she had to to support me - I just appreciated it so much. And it reminded me once again how lucky I am to have the people in my life that I do.

Everyone else has also been extremely supportive, both of me dating again, and of Sarah specifically. Although Donna is the only person from Aimee's family to meet Sandra, Justin and Caroline have expressed a desire to do so, and support us being together (as of when this was originally written last spring). The same for Aimee's closest friends.

As I said, I am truly a blessed man.

Girlfriend

So, I've decided to share the news... I am seeing someone.

For now, I plan to protect her privacy by not sharing a lot about her, including her name. For now, let's call her "Sandra". But here's what I will tell you:

It's going well.

Sandra is beautiful, smart, and funny. She is a very warm-hearted person doing speech therapy work in an elementary school. Sandra is fully aware of my situation: of how I lost Aimee, that I write this blog (she doesn't read it), and that I still have very close relationships with Aimee's surviving family members. In fact, she's very supportive of that. We've been together about six months now, and although it's still early, I am cautiously optimistic about where this might go.

I have also started to slowly introduce her and Rowan, with the three of us occasionally doing activities together. That part is really weird, because although I am used to being with her when it's just to two of us, adding Rowan into the dynamic feels like I'm betraying Aimee just a little somehow. Intellectually I know better, but it's still weird.

You see, when we're all together, I sometimes try to imagine a possible future where we're a family. And I see this analogy where our family was a three-piece puzzle, with each person - Aimee, Rowan, and I - were each one of the pieces. Together, our three pieces created an image of our family. Then one of those pieces was suddenly gone, and our family looked a lot different. It took some time, but I was able to reach a point of acceptance of how this new family image appeared. But now if I imagine Sandra's piece fitted in where Aimee's used to be, well now that's a whole new family image, and that one will take some getting used to (if we get to that point).

For now, I am enjoying getting to know her, and beginning to watch her and Rowan get to know each other. It's all a bit surreal, and weird, and fun, and sad, and many other things as well. But one thing I feel very sure about:

Aimee would want this. I have not a second's hesitation about that. Aimee would want us to move on, build new relationships, find love, and round out our beautiful family. Maybe Sandra is that piece, maybe not. But I know I am doing the right thing.

Grief for guys - the toughest stretch...

Note: This post took me MONTHS to write, rewrite, rewrite, etc. I'm finally only somewhat happy with what it expresses. If it seems a bit disjointed, that's why. But I'm tired of working on it, so here it is.

So it's well known that men and women process grief differently. I mean, men and women pretty much do everything differently, right? So what I'm about to relate will probably have some truth ring to it for men (at least, if they're honest), and maybe not so much for women.

For me, the hardest stretch since Aimee died started in about February of last year, roughly 2-3 months after her death. The shock and numbness had worn off. A new routine had kind of settled in, requiring less deliberate thought.

And I got lonely.

I mean, really lonely. "Desperate" is the word that comes to mind.

My response to this was to decide that I wanted to begin dating again. As in right now, if not yesterday. I even joined a dating site to begin meeting people. I didn't care that it had only been 2-3 months. I didn't care that I was still in a lot of pain over Aimee's death. I needed companionship, and I needed it now.

Let's just say, it didn't go very well.

In all, I only ended up meeting two women for coffee, and I didn't see either of them a second time. I quickly realized that being with someone else might make me feel better on the surface, temporarily, but that if I pursued anything more serious, people were probably going to get hurt. I just couldn't do that.

The bottom line is, these experiences did nothing to make me feel better about my loss. It was a horrible few months, and it only got better slowly. I missed Aimee so badly, but her being with me wasn't an option, so I wanted someone, anyone, else. Luckily, I suppose, that really didn't work out. But that doesn't mean I didn't want it to work out. Like I said, I was desperate, and in a lot of pain.

By June, I had begun to feel a little better. I was still terribly lonely, but I was getting more used to living with it. Plus, summer was starting, and more sunshine always improves my mood. I put the idea of dating out of my head for a while, and focused on trying to enjoy the summer and the activities Rowan and I could do now that it wasn't raining so much.

I began this post describing the difference between men and women in grief. I did so because over the last year I've checked out a number of other blogs by those who've lost spouses, and they're all by women. And they pretty much all seemed to have had absolutely zero desire to begin seeing other people during the first year (or even several years). Or at least, I didn't see where any of them talked about it. They did express loneliness, but not a desire to alleviate it by getting back into dating. These women seemed to prefer to stay focused on the grieving process without getting involved in a new relationship, and do so for quite a bit longer. Men? Well, to be blunt, we're weaker and we want another woman in our lives because they'll comfort us and make us feel better. And let's face it, some men can't really take care of themselves or their kids nearly as well as their wives, either. I'm not being critical, it's just a fact in many families.

(Gladly, I take GREAT pride in being able to function at a high level on my own in regards to running the Rhoads household. A partner to help me would be awesome, but I don't need a wife to help me.)

For some of the guys who do move on quickly, it doesn't always necessarily turn out to be a bad thing. I have two good friends who lost their wives, and my mom is friends with another. All three were remarried within a year. And by all accounts, all three seem to be happy and have good marriages with the women they married following their spouse's passing. Before Aimee's death, I might have been a bit surprised that someone might move on so fast. Now, I totally get it. If things had gone a little differently for me, that might have been my road as well.

I am thankful now that it wasn't.

PS. I think this fundamental difference leads women to often be very disapproving of men who do jump right back into dating after losing their spouse. I think they see it as tremendously disrespectful to the late wife. Trust me, it's not our intent. We're just in unbearable pain, and only know one way to address it. I'm not saying we're right or that women are wrong - I'm just explaining the difference.

My poor little girl

So, I had another post planned for today, already written and everything. But then, this happened...

As I put Rowan to bed tonight, I talked to her a little bit about some of the dates coming up. Christmas. Vacation from school. And I also talked to her a bit about the upcoming anniversary of Aimee's death. We talked about recognizing that day by writing a letter to mommy, and Rowan talked about what she'd say. Then she said she'd draw three pictures of herself: one happy, one sad, and one angry.

This must have been one of the
happy times.

Me: "The happy one for all the times you've been happy the past year?"
Rowan nodded.
Me: "And the sad one for the times you've been sad, and the angry one for the times you've been angry?"
Another nod.
Me, trying to get into what might be going through Rowan's mind: "Have you been angry at mommy?"
Rowan shook her head to indicate that she had not been angry with mommy.
"Oh, that's good. Because I want you to know, sweetie, that it's not mommy's fault she gone."

Apparently, that was a trigger of some sort.

Rowan burst into tears, sobbing harder and longer than she ever has. Usually when she's cried about Aimee, it's lasted a few minutes. This time it went on and on, and as much as I held her and stroked her head, she was inconsolable for some time. When she finally settled back down, she asked, "Why did mommy leave? Why did she go on that [scuba diving] trip?"

This was another instance of Rowan surprising me, as I just didn't expect this kind of question for several more years. But I'm sure it's normal to wonder why the person you love made the decisions they did that ultimately led their death. Aimee decided to go scuba diving, and as a result, she died. So why did mommy make that choice?

I answered her, "Honey, the scuba diving trip shouldn't have been that dangerous. And the more dangerous part, the diving part, went ok as far as we know. The boat should have been safe, and should not have sunk. Mommy should have been safe on the boat."

Rowan seemed to understand this, and we moved into a now familiar phase of Rowan processing grief over Aimee's death - she held onto one of the laminated photos of Aimee and through me, looking at the photo, Rowan talked to Aimee about what she was thinking, feeling, and doing. There were several times where Rowan's voiced cracked as she talked, but eventually she worked through it and ended up happy as she wrapped up her conversation with 'mommy'. She did, however, keep clutching that photo as she settled in to sleep.

And then I, with my head lying next to Rowan, cried for her pain and mine.

...
On a side note, Aimee has been VERY much on my mind the last few days, even more so than normal. And I can feel this swell of emotion building more and more each day as we get closer to the anniversary. What's more, I anticipate that once December 18 is in the rear view mirror, things will not get better right away. I actually think they'll stay tough until after New Years, which was the point last year when I began to try and pick up the pieces of my life and start over.

The eleventh month

We're here. The last month of the first year. If you've ever lost someone, you've probably experienced it - a heightened sense of memory of what you were doing near the end of your loved one's life. Ironically, Aimee was going through this last year, remembering in the last few months of her father's life.

I'm going through it now.

Thanksgiving was a couple of days ago. For me (and I know many others), this holiday marks the beginning of the march towards Christmas. Last year was no different. I put up the tree last Thanksgiving weekend. I also decorated the outside of the house, hanging lights and setting up lawn ornaments. Aimee frequently referred to me as "Sparky" (a reference to National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, the single best holiday movie ever).

The following weeks were filled with double excitement: Christmas was coming, but before that, our vacation with her side of the family for eight days in the Florida Keys. Sunny weather, warm temperatures, and some quality time remembering her father, who'd passed away December 19 of the previous year. Sounded like it was going to be a great time, right?

What could possibly go wrong?
_____________________________________________________________

Over the next month, my posts will likely be mostly focused on what was happening this time last year. I know that's what will be frequently on my mind in the coming weeks, and the best way for me to process that that is to write about it.

Let the journey through the eleventh month begin.

My return to dating

One weekend, when Rowan was just a toddler (I can't recall exactly how old she was), I took her to a local park. She was just at the cusp of learning to walk, pulling herself up on furniture, and walking around while holding on to things. This day at the park, I held her hands and walked backwards while she walked towards me, holding on for dear life. After I felt like she had it down, I slipped my hands out of hers and eased backwards. She immediately got nervous and toddled after me, reaching for the safety of my hands.

I stayed just out of her reach.

She walked, on her own, for about 10-12 steps before she started getting really mad that I wouldn't hold still, so I finally let her grab my hands again. But she'd walked, on her own, and within another day or two, she was doing it regularly.

Baby steps.

In some ways, I feel like that now.

It's a less then a month until the anniversary of my and Aimee's first 'official' date. That was almost nine years ago, and I got to a point, when Aimee and I were engaged, that I realized that was probably going to be the last first date I ever had.

But I was wrong.

In a post I published back in August (Dating again), I wrote about feeling ready to begin dating again. Well it took almost another two months, but I have finally crept out of the shadows and made the bold leap forward. Well maybe not a leap. Maybe a step. I sat down at my laptop and set up a profile on one of the popular online dating sites, and sat back to see what would happen.

This is how people meet now, right?

Baby step.

On a side note, I've found it to be really clinical and unromantic. I mean, reading profiles of people the site sends me and deciding which ones I want to contact feels EXACTLY like screening job applicants. "Yes, I've read over your resume- er, profile, and looked over your qualifications- er characteristics, and I'd like to bring you in for an interview- er, date." Yuck.

But the process was also a little cathartic. I don't like stagnation - I like progress. Moving forward. Setting up that profiles and getting started was a step in that direction.

Then it went further.

Baby step.

So far, I have been on two dates, each with a different person. It was surreal, being out with someone other than Aimee, but it was also nice to get out of the house, talk to someone new, and daydream about the possibilities. And while both of the gals I went out with were tremendously nice, I felt enough of a connection with the second one that there will be a second date some time in the future. Other than that? Well, I'm not going to think too far ahead right now. I'll just see where things go, and take it nice and slow.

Baby steps... Baby steps...

Dating again

OK, so you had to know this topic was going to come up sooner or later...

As time has passed, I have begun to look to the future, and focus less on the past. And one way that I'm looking forward is thinking about beginning to date again.

First, let's cover something very important. Most members of my and Aimee's immediate family, especially Aimee's mother, are supportive of me getting on with my life (in a dating sense of the word). In fact Donna has been encouraging me to begin dating again for some time, although she hasn't been pushy about it.



Aimee and I were often silly together. It
was one of the best parts of our relationship.

So back to that weird place I'm in. On the one hand, I am and have been quite lonely since Aimee's death. A normal reaction, I'm certain. Furthermore, I LOVED being married. I'm certain having the wife I did had a lot to do with that, but I miss terribly that level of love, affection, play and so on that made such an intimate relationship so special. And I have no doubt that there is someone else out there with whom I can share that again.

There is also Rowan (lest anyone foolishly thought this was all about me). She has steadfastly expressed, repeatedly over time, that she wants a mommy. She said as much to me again the day before yesterday. (In her Disney Princess level knowledge of life and 'love', she doesn't understand why this request can't be filled in the fairly immediate future. Don't I just go to the Royal Ball and dance with Cinderella or find some random sleeping princess and kiss her?) I want Rowan to have a mother, and not just any mother, but a great one. Further, Aimee and I were so adamant about treating each other with love, kindness, and respect at all times, but especially in front of Rowan. Why? We knew that we would set up her expectations for what her own marriage should look like. Without the right partner to model that with for her, I feel like some valuable lessons may get missed (though I admit this is a little bit less of a concern, as I feel there are some lessons along these lines I can teach her in other ways).

And finally, I can honestly say that I do have the capacity to have feelings for someone else, though growth of any relationship will have to take time.

But then there's the other side of things. I'm worried that getting into a relationship with me any time in the near future might be something like dating someone with a serious illness. You know they'll probably recover someday, but you also know that you're probably not getting them at their best, fullest ability right now. That doesn't seem completely fair. How do I balance being available to someone, and being open with them about who I am and how I feel, but not burden them with someone else I used to love (and in many ways always will) when I have tough days? And trust me, I'm not self-delusional enough to think that tough days are over (ha!) or will end after a few more months or after the one year anniversary or any other marker. I'm guessing tough days will appear, though with less frequency over time, for many years to come.

All that to say, I'm thinking about it. I haven't been on a first date in almost nine years. Of course, dating back then was a lot simpler, since I was just looking for someone for me. Now I'm looking for someone for both me and Rowan (at least eventually). And marriage, if and when that day comes again, is a long way off no matter what. I want to make sure that I'm pretty certain about a potential spouse before I really begin to get them much involved in Rowan's life. The last thing I want is for Rowan to get attached to someone and have it not work out. Another significant loss in her life, especially of a person she might see in a mother role, is something I'd really like to avoid. She took it hard enough when her first post-Aimee babysitter took another job. Daddy life and dating life will stay separated for quite some time.

There's one more thing I consider. Life is short and unpredictable. I now know that all too well. What if in fact I do only have weeks or months left? Is it good for me to stay alone, unhappily so, just because some people might think I should? Should the opinions of others even be importnat? I think not. I need to live my own life, and I can't worry about what people who aren't living my life think about how I'm doing so.

So, I don't know exactly when, but I do plan on moving into this next phase of life again soon. For my sake and ultimately for Rowan's as well.