The Big Announcement

With the continuation of legal proceedings in Florida over the last couple of years, I have stayed pretty quiet about my relationship with the woman I have referred to as 'Sandra' on this blog. Her name is actually Sarah, and now that the legal crap is pretty much out of the way, I plan to be a lot more open about our relationship.

The significance of this is that while she and I have undergone a number of struggles and experiences that are directly related to my dealing with Aimee's death, I haven't felt free to talk about that here. It's one of the main reasons I haven't posted much this year - most of what I've gone through has been in the intersection between Aimee's death and my relationship with Sarah. So in the coming weeks, I plan to share some of those things here, in hopes that people who've gone through similar situations might learn from my mistakes experiences.

By next summer the last name on
the jersey will be her last name too!

But for now, I am just going to share this one small, insignificant bit of news:

We're getting married!

Yes, Sarah and I became engaged about a month and a half ago (a little more than a year after we started dating), and are already full steam into planning our wedding, which will happen next summer. 

This development has brought on a whole new set of things we're dealing with, which will also be the topic of some future blog post.

I feel I would be remiss if I did not mention that although Sarah is walking into a very complicated situation, she's handled it with an incredible amount of grace, patience, understanding, and humor. She's going from being a single woman with no children (or in-laws) to becoming a wife and mother with what amounts to TWO sets of in-laws. Because I'll tell all of you this: Aimee's family is still exactly that - family. Not just Aimee's, but mine and Rowan's as well. And soon, Sarah's. And as I saw on Thanksgiving, they are embracing her and she them.

So that's the big news, and all I have for now. More - much more - coming.

Thanksgiving, and some important news is coming

First, let me say I hope all of you had a happy and blessed Thanksgiving. I really did, which I'll dig deeper into momentarily.

But first, I have some news. Well, ok, it's not news itself, but rather letting you know that in the coming weeks, there WILL be news, and lots of it. This blog is going to really come alive again for a while, as I have a lot of things to share... soon.

In the meantime, I'm going to share some things I'm incredibly thankful for, and a little about my Thanksgiving.

A photo of Caroline from
her blog, Caroline in Space

• I'm thankful that for now, at least, the legal proceedings in Florida are about wrapped up. I'm anxious to have that chapter in my life closed and behind me.
• I got to spend time on Thanksgiving with Justin and Caroline. Since we live across the U.S. from each other, I don't get to see them as often as I'd like. I was particularly excited to see Carline because...
• Caroline is pregnant! They're having their first child, a daughter. And in a move that brought tears to my eyes when Justin told me, they're going to name the baby...
• Aimee.

I also need to say I am so thankful for my relationship with Aimee's family since her death. Donna has been an incredible help and support, going WAY above and beyond to be a help to me, and to play an important role in Rowan's life. Donna tells Rowan stories about Aimee, shares keepsakes and old photos with Rowan, and in general just takes amazing care of her when she's babysitting. I am so blessed to have such a wonderful resource, and Rowan is blessed to have such an important link to her mother.

But it goes beyond just that. As I've been dating 'Sandra' for over a year now, Donna has been so supportive of that as well, and has really embraced Sandra and her role in my and Rowan's lives. Justin and Caroline have embraced Sandra as well, inviting her to join all of us on Thanksgiving. We all had a really nice time.

I could go on and on about all that I'm thankful for, but I'll leave it at this for now. And watch in the coming days and weeks, as there will be lots of stuff coming out. One of the biggest pieces of news will be coming tomorrow or the next day.

And yes, it relates to 'Sandra'.

Rowan sees the urn, and has questions I wasn't ready for

So I'm about six months late on my spring cleaning (or six months early, depending on your perspective). I was tackling some of that this past weekend, and as usual, Rowan wanted to help.

At one point, I was going through the bottom of my bedroom closet when I came across a large box that didn't look familiar. I pulled it out and opened it as Rowan looked over my shoulder. Inside was a beautiful white urn, and I immediately knew what it was.

It was the urn containing Terry's ashes (Aimee's father).

miniature urn with a small
amount of Aimee's ashes

Of course, it's really pretty, which sparked Rowan's interest. "What is that, Daddy?"

Rowan and I have never talked about what actually happens to people's bodies when they die. We've had the "we die and go to heaven" explanation, but I hadn't yet told her that the earthly bodies get left behind. I felt like talking about burying someone's body in a box in the ground would be kind of scary, and even worse would be explaining cremation, which is what both Terry and Aimee opted for.

So when Rowan asked me what was in the urn, I decided to go ahead and cross this bridge. I explained that grandpa's spirit was in heaven, but his body had been left behind and had been turned into these ashes. His family wanted to keep them as one way to remember him, so the ashes were in this urn.

Then I hoped she wouldn't make the obvious connection and ask what happened to Aimee. My hopes were granted.

For about five minutes.

I scattered Aimee's ashes on October 25th last year, the ninth anniversary of the day we met. But several of us kept small keepsake urns with a small amount of Aimee's ashes in them, and mine is on my dresser. So of course Rowan spotted it (it's been there for going on two years without her noticing it before), and asked me what was in it. She had a look on her face that told me she suspected the answer already. I told her in fact that a small amount of Aimee's ashes in it. She asked if she could see, so I opened it up so she could.

I watched her face as she looked upon what was left of Aimee's earthly body. She looked slightly confused, but didn't say anything else. A few seconds later, she looked away and changed the subject.

I'm fairly certain this topic is going to come up again, but ultimately, I'm glad the subject has been broached. And like so many other topics, they're conversations I wish I didn't have to have with my precious little girl.

Video of Aimee and Rowan shortly before Aimee's death

I have been holding on to this for a long time, intending to share it with you since shortly after Aimee's death. But for several reasons, I hadn't been able to do it. I think a lot of it has to do with my rambling (I'm the one shooting the video) about the vacation we're on, the house, the pool, etc, etc. It also felt so much more personal than some of the photos, the memories I've shared, and the experiences I've had since. This video belonged in almost another world, a world in which Aimee was still alive and our family was still intact.

But the focus of the video, primarily, is Aimee and Rowan playing in the pool. It's a wonderful few moments between a mommy and her little girl, one of the last such moments they'd have.

So what changed? Well, a few things. First, today is September 11, 2013, twelve years since 9/11. I've seen a lot of moving articles and tributes dealing with the needless deaths of so many people, and I couldn't help but think of the needless death of Aimee. Additionally, a number of friends or friends of friends have been battling cancer, and some have already lost their fight. Let's just say, there's been a lot of death lately, and so it's been more on my mind than normal. So while I'm not sure exactly why, the time felt right to share this more intimate and personal look into our last days as a family in a moment shared with Aimee, Rowan, and myself.

If I could go back in time to record something that already happened...

A technology news outlet I follow on Facebook posted the following status update a while back:

Have you ever wished that you could record something that already happened? What would you go back and record? - http://tcrn.ch/173v8RY

Although they apparently deleted my comment (for reasons completely outside of my understanding), this is what I commented (slightly edited):

I would so love to go back and record the few moments I got to spend with my wife on her last day alive. She died in a terrible scuba boating accident, and of course none of us knew those were her last hours. I'd record her and I and our then 3 1/2 year old daughter snuggling in bed that morning. I'd record the last hug I gave her. I'd record our daughter and I seeing her later that day at the aquatic center where she did her beginner scuba diving training, shortly before she went out on that boat. I'd record my last goodbye kiss, which was through a chain link fence. And I'd record that very last moment I set eyes on her, from across a distance, waving at her in her pink shorts and white t-shirt and beautiful smile before she left our lives forever. Some people feel we spend too much time recording life and not enough time living life, and they're absolutely right. But I'd so love to have those moments recorded so I could go back to them and also to show our daughter as she grows up and is trying to know and remember her mother.

As I reference above, I think many of us (myself included) spend too much time with our face pointed at a screen (usually a smartphone) taking photos, posting updates, whatever. We spend so much of our lives interacting with our devices and not living in the moment. But there are times when I think we have to recognize the preciousness of the little things, and we need to remember to try and capture them once in a while. You never know when those precious little events can become hugely important. I know my daughter and I would both love to have record of those last precious moments with Aimee.

Rowan got sad, wrote a letter to mommy

When I got home from work a short time ago, I found the babysitter finishing up making dinner, which is normal, but Rowan was nowhere to be seen, which is not.

The sitter let me know that Rowan had seemed sad since she picked her up from school, and after asking for some snuggling and a story, had decided that she wanted to write (actually dictate) a letter to Aimee. Then Rowan shut herself in her room, which was where she still was when I got home. The sitter then handed me the letter she'd written out as Rowan had dictated it.

I went up to Rowan's room and after giving her a hug and talking with her for a minute about how we both missed mommy every day, she seemed to feel better and came downstairs. Then I read the letter while she was distracted by something else. The contents both made me laugh out loud and cry at the same time.

(Before I share the contents of the letter, I should tell you that Rowan loves McDonald's, but I won't take her there very often. I've explained that the food is very bad for you, and during our last visit there I joked of what Aimee would say if she saw me there with Rowan: "Hon! McDonald's, really?? Ugh! You can do better, can't you? Toad!" Rowan thought that was funny.)

Here's what Rowan wrote to Aimee:

Dear mom,
I wish you were here. I want you to see how big I have gotten. My dad has been a really good daddy and sometimes he doesn't let me go to McDonald's. I love you lots.
Rowan

Man, I really love that kid. And I love that she's starting to see something deeper here - that at least part of my motivation in being as good a father as I possibly can rests in the knowledge that I feel an even more profound responsibility to Rowan's development and care because the 'better parent' was lost. That's not a knock on my own parenting, which is improved. It's just a recognition of the vast, immeasurable loss.

Tonight's 'mommy moment'

Most parents love it when their kids take naps. Not me. If Rowan takes a nap, it's almost a guarantee that she won't go to sleep until at least an hour or so after I put her to bed. I try to avoid her falling asleep during the day as much as possible.

But sometimes it happens anyway, and today was such a day. Sure enough, she had a hell of a time getting to sleep. I tried the usual - allowing her to read a few books typically does the trick - but no go this time.

Not the chair in Rowan's
room, but similar

So I did something I haven't done in years.

I went up to her room. I turned off her light. I sat down in the rocking chair in her room, and I called her over to me. She climbed up into my lap, and I quietly held her and rocked her. At first, she was confused, asking what I was doing. I explained that when she had been very young, her mommy (and sometimes I) had rocked her to sleep in that rocking chair, and I was going to try and help her get sleepy the same way now. She took a few minutes to get comfortable, but soon she was nestled into my chest, eyes closed, breathing getting slower. After a few minutes I stood up and carefully placed her on her bed, pulled up the covers to her chin, and gently kissed her on the top of her head. Her eyes never opened, but the smile on her face was enough to nearly bring tears to my eyes. It was still there several seconds later after I tore myself away and headed back downstairs to continue work on the night's chores (and to write this).

It made me recall all the times I had seen Aimee rock Rowan to sleep (or at least to relax her in preparation for going to sleep) when Rowan was a baby and toddler. It was a mommy moment.

And tonight, it was my mommy moment.

Rowan still misses her mommy greatly, and always will. But here and there, I do what I can to fill in the gap.

Father's Day tips for guys like me

Today, Rowan brought home the most adorable Father's Day gift that she made in preschool. She was so proud of it, and rightly so - it's awesome (see photo). I really like that her school teaches kids the tradition of honoring their moms and dads by making them thoughtful gifts on their special days.

Apparently this is supposed to read,
"Rowan's HERO lives here." Is that
not the best thing ever?

But it got me thinking about the last year a half, and last Father's Day and other important occasions (like my birthday). On each occasion, someone stepped up and guided Rowan in recognizing my special day, either helping her pick out or make presents for me. Rowan absolutely loved giving me these gifts, and I loved receiving them.

Before Aimee's death, that's a role she would have taken on.

So the point of this post is this: if you know someone who has lost their spouse/partner, and they have young children who aren't really able to go out and obtain gifts for the surviving parent on their own, please make sure you or someone else steps in and fills that gap. Losing a spouse brings with it so many, many other losses. And it adds so much to the surviving spouse's realm of responsibility, leaving so much more for them to handle. It has meant the world to me that Rowan has been able to recognize Father's Day and my birthday and Christmas, because others have helped her do that (and as I said, Rowan loves it, too). It would mean the world to others if someone helped their young children do the same for them.

On a related note: on Mother's Day, quite a few of my friends sent me some kind of note (tweet, Facebook post, etc) recognizing my efforts at filling the role of mom to Rowan. It was truly touching, even though I feel like I still get to have my day on Father's Day. Having people say encouraging and sweet things on Mother's Day too was a nice treat. So if you know any single moms (especially widows or families where dad is MIA) who are doing their damnedest to also fill in as father to their kids, maybe take a moment and show them a little love this Sunday. I'm sure it'll mean a lot.

Not as together as I look

I may have been fooling some of you. I certainly had been fooling myself.

For most of the last 8-10 months, I've had this sense that I was doing alright. I felt like I'd finally gotten my legs under me as a single parent. I felt a little more 'with it' at work. I had a routine down that seemed to be working in terms of the logistics of running the Rhoads household post-Aimee. Then I met a great woman and began dating her. The road was not easy, but it felt like things were definitely on the consistently upward path.

But, maybe not as smoothly as I thought.

It all started last year with my unwillingness to go to sleep at a decent hour. I had horrible visions of Aimee's last moments whenever I went to bed, and so I took to waiting until 3am or later before I'd pry myself off the couch and crawl upstairs to my room. Essentially, I'd wait until I could no longer keep my eyes open before I'd attempt to sleep, because then I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow. Viola, no wrenching visions to contend with. Worked like a friggin' charm.

Except the pattern has never gone away, and chronic lack of sleep is extremely harmful to your body.

The result? My health is deteriorating, especially in the last few months. After spending most of my life as an extremely healthy person who didn't get sick very often. I have been sick for the majority of this year (including right now). I am putting on weight (a common symptom of lack of sleep), and I was already too heavy for my own good. I had the flu for the first time earlier this year, every cold I get now is much worse than they used to be, and my digestive system has been such a disaster that my doctor tested me for five different conditions including Celiac Disease (thankfully all came back negative).

It's not just health. Things I used to be consistently on top of are now slipping. Two days ago I discovered the bill for my homeowner's insurance. It was due two months ago. Damn good thing the house didn't burn down last month. I NEVER paid bills late. Ever. And I tracked expenses, followed a budget, and balanced my checking account several times a month. At this moment, I haven't balanced my checking account since early April, and I haven't yet kept my spending under my income since Aimee died.

All of these problems can be fixed by the application of some simple self-discipline. Get more sleep, eat better, get more exercise, and watch my motivation, concentration, etc improve, and so on. Just one problem.

I have no self discipline right now.

Here's a great example. When I talked to my girlfriend on the phone earlier, I told her I'd be in bed by midnight (she's trying to encourage me and, at my request, hold me at least somewhat accountable). What time is it as I sit here and write this? 1:12am.

I know I don't have any excuses, but I can't seem to break out of this cycle.

A few Mother's Day thoughts, and a few tears courtesy of Rowan

Influences

I have been significantly influenced by two mothers during my life: my mom and Rowan's mom (Aimee). My own mom, who will tell you that going to kindergarten saved my life, was an incredible mentor to me growing up. She was also an example of monumental patience. She knew what kind of adults she wanted her children to grow up to be, and she stayed the course of getting us there through our childhoods (despite some SERIOUS setbacks along the way). And like all good mothers, she is still very much a mom to this day, a point so beautifully illustrated to me after Aimee died. I 'wanted my mommy', but I didn't necessarily want to say so. Turns out I didn't have to, as my mom showed up the morning after we arrived home from Florida, and stayed with me for the next five days.

I could not begin to list all of the things I learned from my mom in one place, but if you know me and think I'm even remotely likable, you can thank my mom for that.

Aimee's influence on me was over a much shorter period of time, but still extremely significant. She had rock-solid ideas about how she wanted to parent (and she expected me to agree with her, whether I did or not!), and she held true to her convictions. She also displayed amazing patience - not as much with Rowan, who was and is a great kid, but with me, who was a slow learner as a father. Just a few of the things Aimee taught me about parenting:

• How to interpret different behaviors from children.
• How to effectively redirect undesirable behavior.
• How to effectively use rewards to modify behavior, without turning it into a system of constant and escalating bribery.
• Build a solid relationship with her now, so that she'll be far more likely to listen to what I have to say when she's older and trying to find her own way.
• And perhaps most important in the aftermath of her death, she had shared with me some pointers she learned when she'd gone through a class on helping young children deal with trauma and loss. A couple of times, these tips helped me tremendously with helping Rowan process her feelings, and I still use some of them today.

For many reasons, I owe Aimee a serious debt of gratitude.

The Rowan Effect

Rowan got to me twice today (Mother's Day), once at the beginning, and once at the end.

Normal weekend practice is for me to try and squeeze as much time in bed as possible, so I'm always still in bed when Rowan gets up. As always, she climbed into bed with me this morning to cuddle, then needled at me until I agreed to get up and make breakfast. But just as I started to move, she dropped me with a question out of the blue:

"Daddy, when you're in bed at night, do you get lonely with Mommy gone?"

Immediately I recalled in my mind how I got into this horrible sleep pattern that I have now: staying up til 3-4 am until I simply could not keep my eyes open anymore, because I could not stand going to bed and thinking about Aimee. I missed her terribly all the time, but it was most acute in the still quiet of bedtime. I missed our gentle teasing of each other, the long talks, and the incredible intimacy we shared. It was, in a word, agony.

"I used to miss her a great deal, but it's better now, " I said. "It's like a lot of things in life, sweetheart. It might be hard at first, but after a while-"

"You get used to it," she finished for me, sounding much older than her now five years of age.

"Yes, sweetie, you get used to it."

With that, she turned and went downstairs.

Fast forward to her bedtime. As I was tucking her in, I asked her "Rowan, with all the Mother's Day stuff, have you been thinking about Mommy today?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I've been missing her all day."

"Yeah, me too."

"Hey," she said, handing me one of her laminated photos of Aimee, "Will you make Mommy talk?"

"Sure."

"Mommy!"

Me, as Aimee: "Hi Rowan!"

"Guess how old I am!"

"Are you still 4?"

"Nope, I'm FIVE!"

"Wow, you're getting bigger all the time."

"And Mommy?" Voice much softer now.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I miss you. I wish you could come back and visit sometimes."

"Oh, sweetie, I wish I could do that for you."

Rowan, voice now cracking, "It's just that I miss you so much, and I wish you were still here."

Luckily, she chose this moment to hug the photo, because I couldn't speak. I was choked up, and tears were in my eyes. And once again, I battled against hating the people whose collective negligence led us down this road of pain, especially for the sake of my precious and innocent little girl.

Please, value the mothers in your life, be they your own, the mother of your children, or what have you. Don't just appreciate them or thank them, but really pay attention to the strength and wisdom they share, because you never know when you may need to call upon it in your own life for yourself or those around you.