Category Archives: home.life

Family is important to me. From wife to mom to widow, through remarriage and step-parenting, here is a little about family life as seen from my perspective.

The Joy of Parenting

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Photo: PhotograTree on Flickr

So I’m thinking of writing a parenting book but I can’t decide what to call it…

  • Rocks in my dryer
  • Don’t eat that
  • Yogurt on the carpet
  • Why do bananas have to have those stringy things anyway?
  • Eggs are a dinner food
  • I love you too; that’s why I’m so mean sometimes
  • I don’t want to make the lego tank again
  • Yes I know mommy said a bad word
  • Crayons in the couch
  • God didn’t give you eyes on the back
  • Jam side down
  • Sand in my shoe
  • My purse is not a garbage bag

What do you think?

Only good memories remain

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It’s five months tomorrow since Dave died. It’ll also be my birthday.

The last time I shared my thoughts on the process of dealing with this was two months ago and life is beginning to make sense again. The fog has lifted some and I’m starting to feel more comfortable with day to day living as a single mom. I’m really grateful it’s summer because the late afternoons out at parks and beaches and hanging out in Dave’s mom’s back yard by the pool gives me a great excuse to order take-out dinners or eat picnic foods. I’m still not particularly skilled in the kitchen but I’m very much looking forward to getting a new barbecue and eating a steak for the first time in 5 months. Adding to the challenge of the dinner hour is that mini-boy is now fully involved in the food scene and so I have to make sure I have adequate soft cooked, chopped and minced foods for a 7 month old to gum. I’m very much looking forward to when he and mini-man can eat the same meal.

I miss him every day.

I still get regular reminders that he’s gone… a letter in the mail “To the Estate of…”, mini-man blowing a dandilion and wishing for his dad back, a realization that there’s something I don’t know how to do that Dave would have – like switching the hard and soft tops on our Jeep… and I still sometimes get broadsided by something that I didn’t expect. For instance, last weekend I took both kids and Dave’s mom to see The Lion King at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. I LOVED the movie and I had heard such great things about the musical that I just had to go. Well… I probably should have thought a little about the plot before heading out all excited. The part where little Simba sits trying to wake up his dead lion dad was painful and a couple of songs in the second act had me wishing I wasn’t there… I’m glad I ended up in the crying room with mini-boy; I think I may have cried more than he did. The show was amazing, but it sure was excruciating to watch.

I think the thing that breaks my heart the most is thinking about my boys growing up without their dad. In fact, that was the very first thought I had when I found out he’d been killed.

I have some good male friends who have been hanging with mini-man lately and getting some quality guy time in with him… he’s absolutely craving male attention. You know, wrestling, kicking stuff, playing with swords etc. He will take it wherever he can get it… and that is fine for now. Even if and when another man might come into our lives, he’ll never be their father. He’ll never care quite as much. No one could possibly care quite as much as Dave did. But I do trust that God will build a beautiful story from my boys’ lives even without their dad.

I’m still working on organizing our home.

I have an overwhelming need to get it to a certain level of livability with two kids and only one person to pick up after all three of us… especially before I go back to work in January. I’m a little scared of going back to work. I can’t imagine how I can run my household, adequately parent two children and work a full time job… but plenty before me have done it. I’m sure I’ll learn. It’s kind of strange… you would think losing my husband while my youngest was so teeny-tiny would have been the worst thing; but in all honesty, that has been a huge blessing. The fact that I will have had almost a full year before I have to go back to work has helped tremendously with living through this ordeal I’m sure. Knowing I can just focus on myself, my kids and our home has been one of the things I’m most thankful for.

For the most part I’ve gone through all of Dave’s stuff and have two very full boxes of keepsakes… photos, journals, his bible, some clothing – particularly t-shirts that appear in the photos – tie clips, cuff links, the neck chain he wore when we got married, his poker chips and playing cards… I’ve tried to save everything that the boys could one day use to connect their dad to the memories or things they could simply use and enjoy. I have yet to go through his dive gear and figure out what to do with all of it and I haven’t yet touched our storage locker in the basement. I also have a bunch of motorcycle gear I’ll probably just keep – his jacket, my jacket, a couple of helmets, gloves, and a big riding backpack etc. Not that I think I’ll ever get back on a bike at this point… but the truth is I know Dave would still want his boys to ride one day. I’ll tackle that when the time is right.

I’ve had the old barbecue taken away – Dave had been complaining that it was dead and we needed a new one, I’ve put up a bunch of new toy shelves in the boys’ room and I’ve had all the carpet and upholstery cleaned. Now I just want to finish clearing all the paperwork and stuff off my dining table and get the new barbecue picked up and put together. I know I won’t feel totally peaceful even then… it still feels like I need to do stuff. But I think it will help to feel like I’m kind of settled in now for the long haul… or at least the next couple of years. I’m still holding out hope that I will be able to buy a house once I’ve settled with ICBC.

I have a few things that I’m looking forward to.

In September I’m taking the boys and Dave’s mom to a bereavement camp called Camp Kerry and my parents want to take me and the boys to Mexico in November sometime. That will be nice. Plus, a while ago, I won a week in St. Maarten from Porto Cupecoy so I’m hoping to take that in March next year – by then mini-boy will be old enough for me to leave him with Dave’s mom and mini-man and get some quality adult-only time with a girlfriend. I’ll likely be spending Christmas at Harrison Hot Springs as well – we want to do something different so we’re not just kind of having the same celebration we always have minus Dave. That would be too hard.

I have found a couple of online resources that have been a source of comfort to me:

  • Young Christian Widow – a blog written by a woman who lost her husband to brain cancer and who is raising her three boys
  • Widow’s Voice – a blog written by a variety of widows and widowers

I am also planning to join in the Grief Share program at Valley Church in September.

Over all I do feel a certain amount of peace that I can only attribute to God. I have been able to be very kind to myself, allowing myself every thought, every deed, every self-indulgence, every angry moment or sad moment without self-judgement… again, that can only be from God given how hard I normally am on myself. Dave’s death has, no-doubt, changed me in some profound ways… I’m sure I haven’t even discovered the half of it yet.

It’s funny… when I think about Dave now, all that remains is the good stuff. I mean, I know the bad stuff was there, but it fades into the background of my memory bank leaving only the happy memories to be enjoyed. All the disagreements, hurts and trouble we’d shared over more than 10 years become a distant past and the only important stuff… the stuff I’ll cherish and remember always, are his dreams, strengths… his love and commitment to his family, his joy of life and what he wanted for our family. I hope I can honour his dreams for our family without him.

I’m so very grateful for my family and my friends who have really stepped up to love on me and the boys. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

If you’re new to my blog or have just stumbled upon it through a search engine, you can read all the entries about the death of my husband here.

For the love of food

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Photo: Lea on Flickr

I have a confession to make: I just ate Mini-Man’s half-eaten pizza for dinner. In fact, I have subsisted for days at a time on nothing but kid-leftovers. It’s true.

I hate food.

There was a time I loved food – as evidenced by my not-so-svelte waistline – but those days are long gone. Now, food is a necessary inconvenience. With a 4 year old and a 7 month old, I feel like all I ever do is nurse, prepare food, feed someone and clean up afterwards. The other day I sat down to eat for the first time at 6:30pm and that was while the small one was crying from his bed. Not exactly my idea of an enjoyable meal.

I suppose they don’t make feed bags for children huh?

My normal day looks like this:

  • 5:30am – Sit kid #1 down in front of the TV with a yogurt (yeah, I’ll do a whole post on TV use another day) and make coffee for me
  • 6:00am – Nurse kid #2
  • 6:30am – Prepare breakfast for kid #1
    *after this is the time I may – or may not – fit in a shower*
  • 7:30am – Prepare solid food meal for kid #2 and feed it to him
  • 8:00am – Nurse kid #2 and put him down for a nap while I clean up from his meal
  • 9:00am – We go out… if we’re not out of the house by 9am I don’t get anything accomplished
  • 11:00am – Back home again; nurse kid #2 and put him down for his main nap
  • 11:30am – Prepare lunch for kid #1 & shovel something into my own mouth
  • 12:00pm – Convince kid #1 to take a nap then clean up from his lunch
    *when both are asleep I may get a nap or I may clean up random coloured debris strewn across my humble abode*
  • 1:30pm – Nurse kid #2
  • 2:00pm – Prepare snacks for both kids and get out of the house for the afternoon
  • 4:30pm – Return home and prepare and feed solid food dinner to kid #2
  • 5:00pm – Prepare dinner for kid #1 while trying to entertain a fussy, tired kid #2
  • 5:30pm – Put kid #1 down in front of the TV with his dinner (I know – mother of the year, right?); get kid #2 ready for bed then nurse him again
  • 6:00pm – Put kid #2 to bed; he is often exhausted and over-tired at this point. Crying may ensue all around.
    *this is also when I try and shovel some more food in my own mouth – usually cold since it’s been sitting since 5:30 or earlier*
  • 6:30pm – Put kid #1 in the bath and either continue trying to console over-tired, teething kid #2 or clean up from dinner.
  • 7:00pm – Get kid #1 ready for bed
  • 7:30pm – Finish cleaning up from dinner.

Now, I have been very successful at ensuring both my kids are in bed, quiet with the lights out by 7:30pm so that I have my evenings to myself. This schedule evolved naturally out of Mini-Man’s natural inclination towards an early bedtime as an  infant. But I thank God for that quiet time in the evenings. Dave and I used to sit down to dinner together after Kai was in bed… at least up until he was old enough to benefit from eating with us. Then we had to start eating at 5:30/6:00-ish.

I think that’s when I lost my love of food.

The Proposal

I have a proposal: I would like the world’s finest medical researchers and food scientists to develop an IV or injectable substance that provides all the nutrition and energy we need to maintain optimal health. Wouldn’t it be great if we coud just plug in to a little machine… kind of like an insulin pump… and have it feeding us all day long every day? No blood sugar fluctuation, no one would be overweight or have high cholesterol… we could basically rid the world of the consequences of poor nutrition. If I never had to eat again I think it would be awesome… I think of all the extra time I’d have to enjoy life!

In the meantime, I wonder if I’ll ever enjoy a nice meal again…

Where the grass is greenest

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Photo: ted.sali on Flickr

This post comes out of many conversations I’ve had lately with a number of different people who either are, have been, or will soon be married as well as many new moms trying to learn the ropes of parenting while maintaining some sort of harmony at home.

I also think a little on this topic anytime I notice the judgemental eyes that now land on my newly-naked ring finger as I travel to and fro with my two children in tow. I sometimes feel like wearing a t-shirt that says, “It’s not what you think.” But anyway, I digress as always.

I realized recently that I had no idea just how much my husband was a part of me; I never really realized how lost I’d be without him. Sure, I can manage… and I do. But the sense of unconditional love and security that he brought to my life and our home is now gone… and I never even really knew how strong that was until it was missing.

Marriage is all or nothing.

Blending two lives together is tough. I know it was a painful reality for me when I realized I had to let someone else’s life, goals, wishes, wants, dreams and plans factor into my decision-making. It took me a long time to get there… in fact, I can say in no uncertain terms that it was only after we were actually married that I fell in love with him with the married kind of love.

The first time the reality of marriage hit me was when Dave severely injured himself from a fall off our 2nd floor balcony when I was pregnant the first time. He had taken off the railing and was cutting some lumber when he slipped and lost his balance, falling to the concrete below, but not before hitting the scaffolding on the way down. He broke a couple of ribs, collapsed a lung and bruised his liver and was virtually incapacitated for weeks. After just 12 hours or so in the ER they said, “You have a wife; you can go home and she can take care of you.” It was then that I realized physically caring for another individual is actually in the cards when you say, “I do.” Whether that means helping them with bathing, using the bathroom, getting dressed or cutting up their food and feeding it to them. I thank God he didn’t sustain a spinal cord injury that day and I can only imagine the selflessness required to care for a permanently disabled spouse. But guess what? As his wife, that was my responsibility, even though I was pregnant and working full time. And if his injuries had been worse, my job would have been bigger. I’m not convinced many marriages start out with the kind of commitment it would take to get through something like that. I think that kind of commitment is something you grow into together.

The birth of our first son put a huge strain on our already imperfect relationship. Those first couple of years were excruciating. I hated being so dependent on someone else and I fought it with all my strength. I was so lost in this new world of motherhood coupled with an awful bout of postpartum depression I barely knew which way was up, couldn’t get enough sleep and went about my life oblivious to everyone and everything other than me and my son. My husband was left to feel lonely, confused and inadequate when he couldn’t solve my problem, but he loved us both so much he would have done anything to make it better. So he waited and worked hard to provide for us while taking on all the cooking and cleaning in our home so I was free to just be a mom. We barely spoke to each other for ages.

And then one day the fog started to lift.

Our life together started to take shape. Our son was older and more interactive; he and his dad became inseparable. I began to enjoy life again; most of all I delighted in watching my husband and my son together… our family. My family.

The point of this, at least where babies and parenthood is concerned, is that it is only a season in your life. It does pass. Kids get older and more self-sufficient; you eventually get more sleep and see the world more clearly; and as you learn to parent together you might actually find a deeper level of connectedness than you ever had before kids. I have said this in person to some new moms and I’ll say it again here:

Do not make any permanent decisions about your relationship until your child is at least two years old. Please. It will get better.

I actually think there is something to be respected about the old-fashioned way of doing things… staying together for the kids. People don’t do that anymore; some don’t even try. We’re all wrapped up in our own self-absorbed worlds and we want what we want without being able to see clearly beyond the here and now. We all want a partner who will place our needs above their own and many times moms have a tendency to put their children before their husbands (I can say this because I’m guilty of it myself). We play the “my life sucks worse than your life” game and bicker over who worked longer hours, who has it rougher, who has more household chores, who spent more money, who gets more “me time”. Then we find we’re meaner, ruder, snarkier to each other than we would be to a complete and total stranger.

If you have children, I think you owe it to your children to do anything and everything to not only make your marriage tolerable but enjoyable! If two adults without children find they both don’t want to live together anymore, fine. Part company. But your kids never asked to be dragged in to your mess and they never asked to live in a world where they’re expected to grow up and know how to have great relationships (or a relationship at all) without ever having witnessed one in their own home.

I received a great message from a marriage conference Dave and I attended once that really struck me: People always think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, but the truth is the grass is greenest when it is cared for, nurtured, seeded, watered, cared for, aerated, mowed, fertilized, cared for… it’s a LOT of WORK to have a green grass. If you don’t take care of it it will fade and die.

The same is true of a marriage.

We spend hours upon hours at our jobs, our hobbies, our athletic pursuits, our education, our passions… how much time and energy do we spend on nurturing our marriage relationships? I know I didn’t spend enough, that’s for sure.

I feel really blessed that in the last year before Dave died, our relationship had again moved to yet another deeper level of commitment. It started when we found out we were expecting another baby. It was like something clicked between us and we realized we had absolutely no choice anymore but to work together if we were going to not only avoid the hell we went through the first time but move ahead with peace and joy in our home. We were so excited about it; we began to deliberately focus on enjoying our time together. When Mini-Boy was born our family felt totally complete and we were embarking on a brand new adventure of a lifetime.

It took 10 years before we got to feel that total oneness marriage is supposed to be about. And I count myself blessed to have known that kind of love.

Don’t give up.

Time Stands Still – The Story Continues

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Photo: Ruud Raats on Flickr

Three months.

It feels like forever and it feels like just yesterday. This weekend marks three months since Dave died and here is the continuation of my story. While most of the time I’ve felt fairly peaceful, this weekend was hard. It was shaping up to be a fantastic weekend: I had two music rehearsals on Saturday and was doing the music for my church on Sunday. I love a weekend full of music… something about it is so soothing.

Saturday morning started out well. I got mini-man settled at a friend’s house for a play date then took mini-boy to the church where another friend was going to spend the morning with him while I attended my rehearsals. I then headed up to school where the Black Bear Band was meeting for our final rehearsal before our last gig of the season – the Ladner Band Festival (gotta love the website – 1996 word art, but I digress…) on June 12th. Rehearsing wasn’t the reason I was attending, though… see, our music director – one of the top names in music instruction in the Vancouver area for the last 30 years or so – is leaving us and one of the band members composed a tribute piece in his honour. Saturday was the day we surprised him by performing it for him. To be honest, I was more emotional than I thought I’d be. While the band will, of course, go on, doing so without our fearless leader will be a real shift for us… but such is life I suppose.

So after the tribute piece was presented I had to jet to get to the church for my rehearsal for Sunday. I love singing with these guys… I’ve written before about how music affects me, but even amidst life’s trials, I feel like I was created to make music for God. Like that’s why he made me.

Sidenote: It’s so strange when I think back about it… when I was young – maybe in my teens – I did one of those career quizzes… the ones that tell you based on your likes and dislikes, interests and abilities, what you should consider doing for a living. Well the first suggestion was “Composer” and the second was “Music Director”… I thought, “Yeah… sure. You got the wrong girl.” But here I am some 20 years later writing music. Funny that.

After my rehearsal at the church I heard the Black Bear Band had gotten together at the pub… SOP after rehearsals and I was suddenly sad I couldn’t join them because I had mini-boy with me. I wanted so badly to spend a little more time with them before we break for the summer, but also found myself feeling very lonely given that I couldn’t get my mind off missing Dave. I wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by friends and laughter. I ended up letting the baby nap in the car while I ate take-out sushi and listened to some music in the mall parking lot. Yep, really exciting. All the while wishing I had some people to hang out with on this now beautiful day.

I cried.

I don’t cry often. I cry mostly when I’m stressed or frustrated… and I cry when I’m overwhelmed with joy and gratitude. But not usually for sadness; it’s very weird I guess. Maybe I just avoid it. It makes me uncomfortable. In addition to having two kids who keep me extremely busy most of the time, I’ve filled my life with sweet distraction… most likely to avoid facing the fact that Dave is, in fact, gone. Sometimes I still don’t believe it. Sometimes I feel like I didn’t love him enough though I know I loved him with all of me. I still do… and I see him in my babies. I can’t imagine ever not missing him terribly.

Many of my friends and family have been wonderful… some people I barely knew before March have been my biggest supporters and some people I thought would be there for me have been noticeably absent. My new friend Brenda has been a God-send to me. She has three kids of her own and the oldest is 4 ( a great match to play with my 4 year old – win!), yet she is so willing to take the kids for me when I need to go to appointments or even just out for a run. We have great conversations and I feel like I can tell her anything without fear of judgement. She has really made this much easier on me… I only hope that she doesn’t tire of me and my requests and that one day I’ll be able to repay her or at least pay it forward.

I’ve become very wary of single men. I have had a couple of single male friends who have just given me a vibe that made me uncomfortable and, while I am absolutely craving male attention, I don’t want to even put myself in the position to have someone seek out something I am completely unprepared to give. I am in no way, shape, or form “on the market”. So mostly I’m avoiding men altogether… even my friends. Even when I do find myself in a position to want to date again… the field is narrow my friends. Very. Narrow.

So for now I’m swinging between writing and playing music, staying active by getting to the gym and out to run as often as I can, learning to be a better mother (I picked up new art supplies and, get this… baking supplies just the other day for the next rainy afternoon at home), and avoiding my emotional reality at all costs.

We’ll see what the next month brings.

If you’re new to my blog or have just stumbled upon it through a search engine, you can read all the entries about the death of my husband here.

Sweet Sleep and Eternal Worry

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Photo: dugasj on Flickr

Why is it that moms worry about everything? Maybe it’s ingrained in our DNA to worry about our offspring as a way to ensure we don’t give them away or eat them, but I don’t think there’s a mother out there who doesn’t worry about her kids.

And I can understand the worry about the big, bad things – drowning, car accidents, falls from windows etc. – but we also find a way to worry about the good things.

Last night, mini-boy slept over 11 hours straight.

I had fallen asleep early – something very rare in my world (side note: I have a hard time forcing myself to go to bed at night because the non-kid silence is so lovely and I know that once 6am rolls around it’s non-stop mom responsibility for the next 13+ hours) – and awoke at 1am… still fully dressed as I was when I laid down thinking I’d just rest for a few minutes. After being up for 45 minutes or so I actually got myself ready for bed thinking I’d have another hour or so before mini-boy would wake me with his little cries.

So 6am rolls around and I wake up in a panic… and soaking. No cries.

Fighting the urge to run in to the kids’ room and check his breathing I laid there thinking about the grim possibilities.

I remember this with mini-man – now 4. He had been on a regular schedule of sleeping 8pm-midnight, waking for a feeding, then sleeping until 4am, waking for another feeding and then he would go back down until maybe 6:30 or so. I remember so vividly the night he first ditched the midnight feeding… I woke up (also soaking, I might add) about 5am and realized there was no crying. I thought he was dead. Then I went in and checked his breathing… still breathing. So then I worried that he’d awaken at midnight as usual and I’d somehow slept through his crying… then I felt awful and berated myself for being a terrible mother.

Then I realized he’d just slept through. Most likely. He began to sleep 8 hours straight every night after that.

At least with the second child the worry is a little reduced because I finally realized how insane I’d been the first time around. But honestly I don’t know of a single mother who hasn’t, at some point, checked her sleeping infant’s breathing… even sometimes going so far as to wake the baby to make sure he’s alive.

Why do we do that? Sleep is a good thing, right?

And now that this hurdle is over, I can go on to worrying about more important things… like food allergies, milestones, weaning, injuries, tantrums, back-talk and questions about where babies come from.

Just one baby – A day in the life

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Oh how our perceptions change.

I remember thinking 4 years ago how difficult life with a baby was. I’m not sure if it was the postpartum depression, the personal adjustment to becoming a mother or the adjustment my marriage took to figure it all out… perhaps it was a combination of all of the above. I sure found parenting to be a wicked change from my blissful life simple adult life life before kids.

Now when I find myself with just one baby, I’m at a bit of a loss as to what to do with my time. There’s a weird sense of relief and boredom all rolled in together at the thought of not having to entertain a curious and energetic 4 year old, but having only to occupy a not-quite-5-month-old baby whose only source of frustration is when he can’t get the toy to his mouth in a timely manner.

Today, mini-man was with his Nona and I had not had the foresight to make any plans in advance other than a music rehearsal this morning. My mom came over to babysit mini-boy and was horrified when he slept through the entire visit (she drives a good 45 minutes to get here). I put him down for a nap at 9:15am and was certain he’d be awake by 10, but I returned at noon to a disappointed Nana who kept peeking in to see if she was going to get any cuddle time whatsoever.

I filled the rest of the day with take-out sushi, a trip to the store for light bulbs and a new booster seat for Nona’s car, visits to a couple of open houses in the neighborhood where I’d like to live, a nap and some reading. After our busy afternoon **insert sarcasm here** I talked on the phone, played with mini-boy on the livingroom floor, fed him, gave him a bath and put him back to bed. Then I indulged in a glass of wine, some leftover pesto pasta straight out of the plastic container I’d stored it in and settled in to my couch with my book. Then I fell asleep.

It was 7:30pm.

For the life of me I can’t quite put my finger on why I found parenting so difficult when I had only one baby with two parents. Now I guess I’m getting used to having two kids with one parent… Anyway, for any of you who are finding adjustment to new motherhood hard, take heart… you will one day look back and wonder what all the fuss was about.

Just one baby… easy peasy.

Where in the world is Wilkie, Saskatchewan

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This past week I had the pleasure of travelling to a tiny town in western Saskatchewan to visit Dave’s dad, John, and his wife Margot. I’ve met them twice before, but haven’t seen them since before Dave and I were married. I thought in the wake of Dave’s death, it would be good to establish the relationship between them and our sons. They are, after all, family.

Dave and his dad had a tough relationship and some massive miscommunications, coupled with baggage from the past, led to some less-than-agreeable words passing between them. However, I believe that Dave – with his heavenly wisdom – would have wanted his dad to get to know his kids. So we headed off to Wilkie, Saskatchewan on Monday.

Wilkie is about 160km northwest of Saskatoon. A cute little town with a population near 1200 it is tiny but has some character. John & Margot run a bed & breakfast there called the Pioneer Parish Bed & Breakfast – an old church they’ve converted. They live downstairs in the old church basement, which they have completely renovated and restored, and have built two guestrooms on the main floor in the church sanctuary. The place is cute – it’s full of antique trunks, art etc. and they have it set up to do karaoke every so often with the people of Wilkie. Dave always did have fond memories of his dad on a guitar… mini-man had a great time playing guitar with his Papa John.

Pioneer Parish Bed & Breakfast

Mini-Man with Papa John

Me & the boys with Papa John & Margot

It was really a great visit despite the snow blowing sideways on May 4th and temperatures that never got much above freezing. We stayed up way too late at night talking about all kinds of things and just basically getting to know one another. I’m very glad we went. Mini-boy was a champ and thrilled everyone with his huge smiles; he even slept well… not sure why he won’t replicate the good sleeping at home, mind you. Mini-man was fairly well-mannered and charmed all the ladies as usual (his father’s son lol).

If I have learned anything through Dave’s death it’s that life is all about the people around you – your family and friends. That’s all there is when it comes down to it.

If you have anyone in your life with whom you share a strained relationship, I urge you to seek them out, try and look at life from their perspective and work it out. Talk. I think sometimes when kids grow up we try and maintain a parent-child relationship to some extent even though we are children no longer. It’s really a very valuable exercise to get to know your parents or your children as adults… firstly it likely makes for way better conversation, but secondly I think we can continue to learn and grow from the wisdom of our parents. I also think parents can learn from the wisdom of their adult children… if they can see past the troubled teen they once knew.

Now go… give your loved ones a hug and tell them you love them.

And by the way, if you’re ever in Wilkie, Saskatchewan and looking for a place to stay, give John & Margot a call at the Pioneer Parish Bed & Breakfast at (306) 843-2719. They’re lovely and gracious hosts.

Sharing my story with the world

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Well, it’s official. I have become a mommy blogger… or at least I’ve been recognized as one. I was nominated by Vancouver Mom as one of Vancouver’s top 30 Mom-Bloggers. I think I have Karl Woll from Outdoor Vancouver to thank for that (thanks Karl!) I am flattered and it has made me think about my blog and consider writing again.

I haven’t written since my husband’s death for a few reasons: Firstly, the myriad thoughts in my head can often be confusing and move so swiftly I couldn’t imagine coming up with anything coherent to say in one sitting; secondly, I had never wanted to be a mom blogger but at this time in my life I have very little else to discuss aside from my husband’s death and my grieving process; lastly, I wasn’t really ready to share that grieving process with the world as I didn’t want to crank out posts that would just make people feel sorry for me.

Now that a couple of months have passed I can think more clearly and want to begin sharing my new story with you. Blogging sure puts you out there and it really can take quite a commitment to sharing some of these thoughts in hopes that they may have some kind of profound effect on someone somewhere.

So here goes…

Dave and I were together 10 1/2 years. We were married for 5 1/2 of those years and our oldest son just turned 4 in March and our youngest is now 4 months old. Dave and I had quite a crazy relationship and it took a lot of learning and a lot of commitment to make it work and to make it good. In the last 2-3 years we had really learned to live for each other, parent together… we’d become one. But it took a long time to get there. We were both excited about the future – Dave especially. I was more nervous because I don’t really like uncertainty, but he made me feel safe.

I would have gone anywhere with him.

As tragic as his death was, I really feel like God prepared me and my heart for it. It’s only in retrospect of course that I can see it, but a combination of leading and revelation in my life somehow put the pieces together to where it made sense. I had been writing about how I felt God’s leading to stop working so hard and take time to enjoy my family even though I thought I was working hard FOR my family. Dave was off work from an injury and we had no idea what he’d end up doing or how he’d make a living and yet I felt overwhelmingly like I was not to focus my attention and time on my career, which is totally counterintuitive for me. Since our youngest son, “mini-boy”, was born in December and until the day Dave was killed, we spent every day together as a family enjoying one another – going to parks, beaches, playing video games, day trips… talking about our dreams and learning how to live our new life as a foursome.

That time was absolutely precious and I believe it was a gift.

You know how you live with some kind of expectation for the future? You have a plan… you can envision where you’ll be 6 months from now, a year from now and you have a picture of where you want to be 3, 4, 5 years from now? We didn’t have that. We were living each and every day trusting God would work his plan in our life, that he would provide for our financial needs and that things would work out in whatever way they would. We had talked about how we both felt overwhelmingly like something astronomical was going to happen in 2010 that would change our life forever; we just didn’t know what that would be.

We were excited about it.

In the week before he died he had done so many things that, in essence, made my life after his death all that much easier. He had moved around all the furniture in our bedroom and put up the crib for mini-boy; he had cleaned out both vehicles and had our main vehicle serviced; we had gone grocery shopping and stocked up our home not only with food, but with all those household things you need but hate to buy – laundry soap, diapers, razor blades, paper towel, cleaning supplies, aluminum foil etc… you get the picture. Finally, the morning he died he had even done all the laundry lol!

Dave liked to do some crazy things: aside from riding motorcycles he enjoyed scuba diving, skiing… we’d gone skydiving together a couple of times. He lived closer to the edge than most. For that reason, I had actually had to consider what my life would look like if he were to die. I know that sounds morbid, but I had thought about it – we had to. We had discussed how much life insurance to buy, we have some good friends who have agreed to raise our boys if I go too, and we had discussed final arrangements. I just never thought I’d need to use any of that information. In a way, though, that made getting through these last two months much easier than it otherwise could have been.

My mom had a friend who had always said, “When I go I want to get hit by a bus in a good neighborhood.” Saturday, March 6th – a day I’ll never forget – was a beautiful day. Dave had wanted to get out for a little ride because the rest of the week was supposed to be rainy. He took the boys in the morning so I could go get a workout – my favourite cardio-kickboxing class at Champions Academy, then he picked me up and took us home and got all geared up to go for his ride. He was planning to run an errand out to a bike shop in Langley and then meet up with friends who were riding from Maple Ridge; he planned to travel back home to the North Shore with them. He left our place at 12:30 and was planning to be home by 3 to go hiking with me and the boys at Lynn Canyon. Boy, how life can change in an instant.

In the end it was a beautiful day, he was excited about his future, things between us were good, he was enjoying the company of friends and doing something he was ridiculously passionate about and his death was instantaneous. Ultimately his heart was unplugged and I’m confident he didn’t feel a thing. Now, if there is a GOOD way to die… I suppose that’s it. Our last words were “I love you!” “I love you too… ride safe.” “I will,” he responded. And I know he did.

But what will be will be… I have seen the hand of God all over our life together. I wouldn’t even have my faith and salvation if it weren’t for my relationship with Dave. His life made a difference on this earth and he’s left a lasting legacy. I believe I will see the redemption following his death and I hold tight to that faith.

So now that I’ve got that much out, I’ll be sure to share more of me with you in the coming days, weeks, months.

In other news, I decided to get myself a Mother’s Day gift this year – I just picked up the brand new Canon Rebel T2i. I figure you can never have enough photos and videos of your loved ones… might as well make them good ones. The above photo is one I took while trying it out yesterday with mini-man. Can’t wait to take it off auto…

If you’re new to my blog or have just stumbled upon it through a search engine, you can read all the entries about the death of my husband here.

The biggest goodbye

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You may have already heard by now, if we’re friends or if you follow me on Twitter, that my husband Dave was killed in a motorcycle accident last Saturday, March 6th, in Pitt Meadows. He was just 36 years old.

I have been overwhelmed by the love and support I’ve received from thousands of people – friends, family, my church, my colleagues, the Vancouver social media community, the ladies in the Just Mommies January 2010 Playroom and friends of friends who have started prayer chains for me at their churches. I have received daily meals, financial contributions, countless offers for babysitting, house cleaning, company and I literally have thousands of people praying for me and my two boys. I can’t thank you all enough for your kindness and support at this incredibly difficult time.

Please join me to celebrate Dave’s life
at 1pm on Wednesday, March 17th
at Lynn Valley Full Gospel Church.

(Edit: Please park across the street in the mall parking)

Dave had a bigger heart than anyone I’ve ever met. He was twice the parent I’ll ever be, an amazing husband, a loving son and brother and a loyal friend to many. He touched the lives of so many people in his short life. We both knew God was planning something big but we just never would have imagined what. I trust wholeheartedly that he is at home with the Lord, he is healed and every question has been answered. It was a beautiful day, he was doing what he loved and he went quickly without pain. I count it a blessing.

Dave Evans: September 10, 1973 – March 6, 2010.

I love you forever.

If you’re new to my blog or have just stumbled upon it through a search engine, you can read all the entries about the death of my husband here.