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if you're looking for a way (a way to restart) you don't want the keys to my heart.

there is only so much distracting one can do, i suppose.  it has become a valve, which for the most part, i can shut off, i actually have trouble turning it on.  99% of the time i can look at pictures, videos, of us, they almost don't mean anything.  the meaning has been sucked from them, a color photograph faded in the sunshine.  but when they do mean something, when i feel it, i feel it to my bone marrow.  i feel it in every cell, the pain the hurt the hell.  it is then i have trouble breathing, it is then my chest hurts with a physical pain i have never experienced before.

what i had (RIPPED away).  and there is this fine line i walk right?  i crave what i had while not ever being able to get burned like that again.  i have read some advice would be a loose way to say it of women who have loved again after tragedy and the consensus is, no right way to do it, just know it takes someone special, especially then kids are involved.

i have had to rework (and continue) to rework my entire being.  my life rotated around my family.  now i am cast out into space again, the earth without the sun, orbiting, orbiting, but what?  a vacuum?  I am getting sucked in.

what am i orbiting?
what will i orbit?
who are you?
why do i let you in?

jim.jim.jim.jim.  i miss you.  as always, wish you were here.  remember when i took that pregnancy test last year, the night before my birthday?  i didn't even tell you.  i just went upstairs and tested.  she was such a surprise.  such a beautiful, beautiful surprise.  i came down the steps crying and said "i'm pregnant!" you said "shut up!" followed immediately by "i KNEW it" we called it the best birthday present we could have been given.

i remember the night before i gave birth... we were so excited.  our last child, our last pregnancy, the first in our house... we didn't know the sex and were so excited to find out for sure although i had pulled out every tub of baby girl clothes.  as always, i had to go sleep with addy part of the night, nerves getting the best of me, as always, you passed out no problem.  i couldn't even eat more than a JoJo because she had squeezed all of my stomach.  i had no room.  my heartburn had been terrible for weeks.  i just laid around in the recliner, watching you eat pizza, jealous as hell.

and then, that morning, she was born.  and it was so perfect, all of it was perfect.  except of course the three tries they took with my spinal block.  i came so close to be asking to be put under.  but then all of a sudden, they got it, and i was laid down and you came in.
they cut
she was lifted
we heard her
and i knew
you knew
we had our girl
ellery ann

the doctor remarked "she has some opinions already, this one"
i wish i knew what they were, i wish she was here to tell me them.  i wish you were here to hold me.  i wish i didn't go to sleep alone every night.  right after you died i had to sleep with one of these huge bears that someone sent the kids.  i did that for weeks, my physical body unaccustomed to sleeping alone and thrown into shock.  the first couple weeks alone, it took me hours to settle myself down to sleep.  i had this routine, tea, melatonin, crying, phone call, more crying, writing, sleep.

the dogs sleep with me now, i know that would make you happy.  most nights i bring cookie up too.  she sleeps near my head, mostly.  it seems quiet with the two of them, i know they used to move around a lot but not anymore.  it's all quiet here.  this morning both kids piled into bed with me and i had this glimpse of what we had.  the kids laughing and squirming and kicking.

remember those mornings?  me nursing while lane and addy rolled around and we put on a tv show?
remember when lane was born and we ate thousands of red vines and watched property brothers?  that was the first time i told you we could have at tv in the bedroom, lol.
you are a good dad, we miss you.  i miss you.  i miss you in a way that is indefinable.  i miss you in a way that will always escape me.  it is the moment between breaths.  it is the in between, that is what I miss.  before in my in between i always had security, now it is is emptiness.

my breaths escape me love, wish you were here.


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treat it.

to everyone who has never been touched by suicide,

i get it.  i used to be like you too.  here are the most common views of suicide i either heard or personally held growing up:

that person is selfish
that person is crazy
that person is a coward
they wanted to die
they were depressed for a long time and finally went through with it
there are always warning signs, so people know it's coming
that it's preventable

there is this social stigma around depression, suicide, etc.  i can't tell you what it is like to not be able to talk openly about my husband's death.  to see people either openly or privately distance themselves from my pain, search for reasons that he did it beyond the fact that he was ill and we didn't catch it in time, connect dots that aren't connected.  all so they can convince themselves that they will never know the pain, and i honestly hope they don't- but it's possible they will.  i know people whose lives…


to my love,

i hope you know how much i miss you.  the words, of course, fall short.  but there they are, just the same.  i told addy that you and elly can live in our hearts forever, but this of course is a lie.  death is permanent and there is no living to be done once the breathe leaves our bodies.  you are not living on in our hearts, minds, or souls.  there is no living to yet be done for you.  instead we are left with our memories which time will eventually dull.  numbing ourselves to the very sense of you.  it is that way for me with my mom, my memories of her are stunted and few and we had eight years together.

does it bother you to know the only real remembrance your children will have of you is seen through my eyes and my hearts?  the sharp reality of their dad is forever lost to them.

people are trying to instill hope in me in regards to my future.  i know they mean well but it is coming off condescending.  no one but my own being knows my pain.  i am not here…
Dear Cavs,

Our playoff season started the day my five week old daughter, Elly, passed away, twelve days later my husband also died suddenly.
Your road to the finals, so fraught with emotion was also the start of a very difficult, seemingly impossible journey for me.

I started watching at game five... when we were down 3-1, I thought for sure that we would lose that game- when we won, all of a sudden- I cared.  When so many lights had gone out for me there was all of a sudden very small glimmer of hope and dare I say satisfaction possibly ahead.

It would have seemed from the circumstances that I shouldn't care whether we won or lost, so many things in my life didn't hold their meaning anymore- but I did.  I couldn't help it.  The enthusiasm was infectious.  These games gave  me hope.

I watched as you won game five and game six and I'll never forget seeing Kyrie on the bench after six holding up his seven fingers.... Here we go.

I almost regretted getting invested as I …