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Well after waiting for a month my copyright finally went through and on Feb 11th my first book was released. I am now set up for my first signing date. It truly is a dream come true. I remember the first time I got a book signed by an author. It wasn’t someone famous, no big novel, nope she wrote a christian book and it was so funny and a good read. When she signed my book we visited for a long time. She asked a little about me and I told her that it was my dream to be a writer one day too. When she signed my book she wrote in it to chase my dreams. How incredible is it that it would be a while before I did, but when I did it seems to be going really well. I have gotten smashing reviews from those who have read it and sent me personal messages. Yet I have yet to hear from the real critics. The people who do not know me. My hope is that by reading the book someone who doesn’t know me will still feel the same kind of connection that those who do did. It truly is written from the heart.

I have done one radio interview for a Christian talk show for the book. It was a round table event. One that was amazing. I found that I love talking about death and how it changed me. I am now about three chapters into my second book. The one of the miracles of Mat. Seven miracles in seven days. It will be a good book. Most likely a better one than the first. Maybe because I am writing now without second guessing myself. The writing flows so fast and smooth and I pray it hooks the readers and keeps them locked in. Many say that is what happens with my first one. I pray that continues into the second. I feel confident that I can do this. That I am meant to do it. The lessons I am learning are priceless, and I have been given the gift of word. Of deep understanding and truly blessed to have a relationship with God that is a true relationship. One that is not perfect because I am not perfect. I challenge God I think. Just like a teenager challenges their parents. I am sure God get very frustrated with me because sometimes it takes more than once to get a lesson through my head. Yet I love God more now than ever. The hardships are exactly what I need to make me closer to God. Not long after Mat’s accident I had a friend hug me and say, “I don’t know why God does these things to you.” Odd I thought I never once questioned why they happened. I did question if I was able to go through another hardship so soon after losing Ed. The truth rang out as if it were hit by a gong. I didn’t have to use my strength and understanding in the hardships, I just had to rely on God’s to.

Did I know that while deep in the hardship? No. I hardly knew what to pray, and to be quite honest my faith was but a mustard seed. One tight squeeze and it would have crumbled down to nothing. Yet I watched God perform miracles for seven days straight. It had to be him because according to the doctors, they had done all they could the first day and it was up to God and Mat to see what kind of life he would have once he woke up. My darlings, he is the same Mat now as he was then. Only one difference he is now a man that was touched by God and he knows it. That is powerful. That is exactly what I needed to learn. That even the faith of a tinder mustard seed would be enough to move God.

Hold tight because the blogging will now pick up once again because this Lioness has learned some fantastic lessons and I can’t wait to share!

If you would like to read my first book you can find it on Kindle and on Amazon.com

Look for “Lesson After Death” By Deresa Rhea

Dee

Now that Mat is home once again we are starting all over. He is recovering well, it will be a long road but it is nothing that we cannot do together. His life will be much different than what we thought it would be. Some things are great others we have work to do. Learning to be a caretaker is something new to me. I am grateful for the nurse friends that I have. They have been amazing. Helping with medications and how to give them. How to make sure he gets up every once in a while and moves. We have had some good talks but I am sure that there are more a head for us. He is covered head to toes in bruises, those are getting better but slowly. This will be a by the day kind of thing. I am so thankful to our friends and family that have done nothing but lift us up in prayer and love and have supported us through all of this.

Living with someone who is a miracle is mind blowing. I have a hard time not staring at him. I mean he was attractive to me before but now? It’s like now the world can see him the way I have always seen him. He is someone special, someone that God has chosen and for whatever reason, God has blessed me to be with him. Will there be hard days in front of us? Yes, but we can get through them together. It still blows my mind on his recovery, he may never get to be 100% physically and mentally himself, but his soul is still the same. He still tells me that he loves me more than anything. Which is exactly how I feel too. We will take this one day at a time and soon life will get back to something that feels normal. Though anymore normal just seems not on my plate. I wouldn’t mind a different life than the normal. At least all I know is that this life will always be in motion, an ever changing thing. We may have had to start at the bottom again, but at least we know how to climb, and each time we have to start over or change the path, I know that I only grow in strength.

Dee

Sometimes it seems that when life is going well something comes down the mountain. Thankfully I hadn’t climbed too high when this one hit. It was a normal Tuesday morning. Matt and I get ready for work and complain about just wanting to stay in bed and just be together all day. With “just one more kiss” he headed out for his twenty minute drive to work. I take my son to school, stop for my usual coffee and then head to work. I get a message from Matt this is usually sent out right before he pulls out of the drive. “I am the luckiest guy in the world because I have you.” I reply “Nope it is me that is lucky.” He never receives that message.

We are not sure what happened but Matt, less than five miles from his destination to work, left one side of the road hit a little bridge the force of that hit sent his truck over to oncoming traffic. Sideways. Another truck couldn’t stop in time, it hit the passenger side of Mat’s truck and they both left to the side of the road. Mat was pinned in his truck for fifteen minutes. Now I had not thought anything about not hearing from Mat that morning because he was running a little late and I was busy at work. I suddenly get a text from his sister-in-law showing me the local news paper had released a photo of the accident and reported the incident by eight forty five. Crazy right? The picture could very well be taken right after he was taken out of the truck and loaded into the ambulance. Who waisted no time in telling the hospital that he could quite possibly have a serious head injury, the chopper was in the air and they had him up at the best trauma hospital around. Only a half hour flight. We knew so soon about the accident that Mat’s mother was calling the trauma center before he even landed. God. That was all God.

It was God because the first man that came up on the accident was smart enough to make sure that Mat was not moved from his seated position even though the other driver a young man was desperate to help him. It was God that had the med flight in the area so that Mat could be transported to the trauma center where a team of experts with neurology, and advance nurses were waiting for his arrival. It was God that for what ever reason his sister-in-law happen to see the post on social media about the accident and recognized his truck from the picture. And by the end of this you will see that God was in control the entire time. Why? Because for what ever reason, my faith needed to be strengthen and it has ten fold. I may have started out with a mustard seed, but after God was done, it is so much more.

When I arrived to the ER at the trauma center they had had Mat for at least an hour. His brother and I sat off in a seating area together not saying a word to each other. I couldn’t speak. My past experience with this was I would be lucky if they told me anything let alone let me see him. Thanks to COVID rules were tighter than ever. Yet his mother who called before he had even landed told them that I was to be the one that was in with him, period. His brother I am sure was very relieved. His family though large are not really tight like mine is. Nothing wrong with that, it happens sometimes for their own reasons. We didn’t have long to wait. One of the attending physicians assistants came out not long after to deliver the news. He has internal head, and torso injuries. Broken ribs, three bones in his back broken, two not bad ones, one could require surgery, broken hips though those seem minor, then the big news, he has a diffused axonal brain injury. They had put a bolt into his head and they were monitoring the swelling. He was on a vent and he was not responding since he was put into ambulance. It was all in God’s hands. He had lost a lot of blood and had to receive a transmission. He was alive but just. I was asked if I would like to see him, and they explained that they had come up with a plan to let more than one person see him should his brother wish. They would let the brother in down stairs into the actual trauma room and I would wait to see him once they had him in the ICU room upstairs. This made me smile. How kind they were looking for loopholes. They knew this may be the last time his brother may see him. He declined. So shaking with all that I had I went back.

Courage was something I am learning comes when you feel your weakest and even though you may not want to walk you still do. They took me back to a room that was wide and large, with places for multiple traumas at once. (Later down the road I learn somedays that room is filled) Mat was there, a part of me hopped it was a mistaken identity, it was not. His left shoulder has a flaming number three tattoo on is. He was a Dale Earnheart fan, the tattoo was done after Dale was killed. He looked awful. Large bumps were on his partially shaven head, and what looked like a large gauze volcano with a wire coming out the top. The “bolt” that was in his head used to monitor the inner cranium pressure. All I knew was the number could not go over twenty. If it did he was in big trouble. We had forty-eight hours to “wait and see”.

They moved him up to SICU and a nice chaplain escorted me along to where that would be. On our way up she kept my mind busy with questions about Mat and I. I tell her our love story. He was my best friend, I tell her how I had lost my husband in 2019 and Mat was the light in all the darkness for me. I would now be that. Prayer was all I had. It was all I could do. I for the first time pleaded with God, please not now. I know that one day I could very well lose him, I knew all too well that if he was too injured that God should take him home, because living in pain was not a fair price to pay to keep him next to me. I kept telling myself if he should go that I had been there and done that. I could do it again, I didn’t want to, but I could. I knew the cost of love and I love this man and I was willing to pay that price.

Two days later, his number never went and held over the number ten. If it went up it went up because they were moving him or doing something to him. He was also off the medication to control his blood pressure by four in the morning. Less than twenty-four hours after the accident. This was the one thing the doctors could say this is good. Forty-eight hours later this man was moving and though not all the time he was responding to simple commands like “squeeze my hand”. Day three went from squeezing hands to giving thumbs up and wiggling toes. He was cleared to do an eye surgery from where a laceration was on his right side cornea. I was given only a thirty percent chance that they could even save the eye and a thirty percent chance that he would ever see out of it. But something happened that I wasn’t ready for.

You see, of course we had a ton of prayer worriers and I found myself praying but I also know that type of injury, it being described as a sever concussion, and a DAI was the worst type of brain injury there is. There are people who will never walk, talk, or take care of themselves again. And you can ask all you want about the prognosis, only time can give that. It was advised that I start looking at long term care facilities. That was it our future was over, he very well wouldn’t even know who I was once he came to. So even though he was alive, it felt like death. It was also suggested that join a support group because they could answer questions since they had been through it all. So I did. Yet most of them never spoke about having someone do the things he was doing. By day three he was more alert, they were worried about his right arm since he had not moved it. That morning I was up helping the nurse clean up his neck with a soft wash cloth. He had slobbered a lot with the breathing tube. He heard my voice and lifted his shoulder and arm to reach for me. I stared at the nurse. “Did you see that!!” To say we were excited was so understated. Before the eye surgery was done an MRI was completed to see the back injury closer and to hopefully see a better view of his brain. The MRI would “grade” the DAI 1-3 three being the worst. So I did the only thing I knew how to do. Pray, but I did what we are supposed to do. Be specific in our prayers. So I asked everyone to pray for the smallest number possible. I never told anyone what number to pray for just the smallest possible number God would allow. He was cleared for the surgery set for day five. In the mean time, we saw continued improvement. Both legs, feet, hands, eyes opening, all of it. Again in the group I was encouraged to join there was a lot of stories of recovery, some completely full others partially, and some that were on a much longer road. Yet all were leading happy lives. None of them talked about being able to nod their heads or understand questions or even be alert only three days after injury. Many talked about being in comas for weeks and months. I felt lost. Very lost.

I was also scared, would he even remember me? Our love story? The only answer was wait and see. Finally two days after the MRI I was able to hear what his grade was on the DAI. When I asked the doctor she simply said she couldn’t remember. This made me angry, how could you not? You were the one that pushed for the MRI. She wasn’t interested in his brain at the moment, just his back. His T3 was broken. A few screws and some small rods would fix that up and stabilize him. It was during a quick nurse change that I heard the findings of that. Grade one. ONE. The smallest number possible in that rating system. So maybe he just was no longer an interesting case to the doctor? Nope she just happen to have seven other trauma patients come in that day. She was truly busy and was tired and honest. She just couldn’t remember. It had been a long day. A very long day. I said a prayer for her. Who knows maybe our news was the only good news she was going to give that day and her heart weighed heavy knowing someone else was going to get their heart broken that day. I prayed for her and her heart.

So on day four we rested most of the day. Now I sat and watched the vent screen that he was on since they had pulled the bolt I no longer had to watch that number. (On a side note her I am not sure what you think when you hear the word bolt, but I thought wow they screwed something into his brain. Nope I was wrong it looked much like the end you use to plug in a headset. Crazy? Yup and to take it out you simply unplug it from the head. Not even kidding!) I don’t know about every vent machine but this one was pretty neat. I could see when the machine would give a breath and when Mat would take one. Now on day two it scared the hell out of me knowing this. So while information is good sometimes it is best not to know. He had went in for the eye surgery. I knew that on the machine Mat’s breaths were marked red the machine green. Before the surgery the pattern was green red green red. Mat matching the machine breath for breath. Yes there were times when he may skip a breath or two the machine keeping its steady rhythm kept my mind at ease. It was only day two. Yet when he came back after the surgery, I noticed no red marks at all. They were all green. I watched that screen not blinking for ten minutes. Nothing. I went to the nurse and asked. It was something about the sedative they use for the surgery he would be okay once it wore off. It was time for me to leave that night. (I was only allowed to be there from six in the morning to eight at night) I laid awake all night wondering if I had signed off on fixing an eye and because I did, this man would never take a breath on his own again. I slept for less than two hours that night. It took every ounce of strength I had to call the next morning to do a check in. I waited until eight thirty to call. I just knew they would tell me. I’m sorry ma’am he just isn’t breathing on his own anymore. Yet once again GOD moved. He was not only up but responding to the nurse every time he was asked to do something. He was moving his head yes or no to questions. He was breathing over the machine.

I was happy, thrilled. By the way the eye, was not just good it was great. It was not deflated which was what the eye doctor was worried about. The laceration to it was only to the top layer and it was simply repaired with a few stiches. There was no infection and looked great. Once again this man was beating the odds. Two days later he went back into surgery and they repaired the T3. It went just as good as the first surgery did. By now he even had the doctors saying this man is a fighter. He woke up the next day, day five and was able to tell the nurses things like he needed his mouth sucked out, he was starting to cough up the ton of crap that settles in your chest when you have a breathing tube in. He was in pain yet it was time. Time to push him to see what he could do. So they do what they call a breathing test. They switch over the vent from pushing the air in and out to see if he could do it on his own. It was tried once before, he made it all of ten minutes. I came in that day at my normal time eight thirty. He had a rough few minutes but he fought through them and was doing well. He was staying calm and fighting through it. I can’t even imagine the strength it took to do that.

The process for the test is four hours on four hours off. He made it three hours forty-five minutes. Not bad for his first day. That night when round two came along, he just couldn’t do it. It was the scariest thing I have ever watched. I never want to see it again. I went to bed that night wondering what would happen when the machine was taken off. Would he tire like that again and just stop breathing? The doctors were nice they described this more like a workout. It was reminding the brain and the breathing muscles how to actually work. It was a real workout and it would tire him out. Wow I think we don’t even think about breathing, we do it since birth, yet it is a function that we just take for granted. Mat had to work those muscles again. These days were the longest for me, but something happened on those days, days four and five that show me a spark of Mat being Mat. To take his BP they put a cuff around his leg then placed the leg wraps that help with circulation when someone spends a lot of time in a hospital bed. Mat has not liked having the BP cuff on his leg. That man would wrap the air hoses around his toes and pull until he would disconnect them and then he would almost sigh. I am thinking quietly to myself. Does someone with a DAI do that? He was using reason and logic and problem solving before he was really coming to.

Day six was pretty much an even more improvement. That day was the day that he went twelve hours without the vent breathing at all for him, and every time the nurse walked in the door he wanted that vent out. And he wanted water. Poor guy they were in a holding pattern. They were waiting for the ortho doctor to see the break he had in his hips or pelvic area to see if once again surgery was needed. It would be a long twenty-four hour wait. By then I had to return back to work. I once again called first thing in the morning to check on Matt. His nurse sounded winded, they had pushed him out of the room and down to another. Due to another brain patient that came in and needed that number one spot. For the first time I was glad we were no longer in the number one spot. I kindly told him I would call back in a few hours so that he had time to get them both settled into the new room. I was a little anxious and I can’t tell you what it feels like to be apart yet again from someone that I love so very much. It was hard, sleeping was almost impossible, I slept once again like I did after Ed had passed. A few hours here and a few there, with very little food in between. I was making it, I didn’t know how, I just was. I had so many phone calls and messages and people reaching out that I could spend my phone batterie in four short hours. I felt like I was fighting this thing on three fronts. There was worrying about him, making sure his family was well informed and then also the many people that we grew up with. My phone constantly went off. So the Chaplin of the trauma department suggested a private group where I could release the information all at one spot and everyone would know that would be where they needed to go. That was a huge help. I also had my kids and my family who love Mat just as much as everyone else. This is where it was easy to designate a point of contact person for my family. I called one person with the update, they called everyone else. It brought huge relief.

The seventh day. Well like you read above the seventh day started with the moving of the rooms, and then the dreaded wait to see what the ortho doctor wanted to do. I called back at eleven fifty. I asked how Mat was doing and Joe (I don’t think I will ever forget three of Mat’s nurses. Leighton who was his first nurse in the SICU, Debi who was the woman who got Mat through twelve hours of breathing on his own and Joe) states a lot better without three tubes sticking out of his mouth. What! They had done it. He was now completely on his own and doing so well that he didn’t really even need oxygen. I could hardly think, he was off. Seven days, this was impossible, this was God. I could not wait to see Mat.

Mat has a very long road a head of him still. We don’t know if he will walk on his own again. He may not be allowed to ever drive again or even work. But those are bridges that we will cross when we come to them. Our reunion was beautiful. His one question took him all day to ask me. What were my goals? At first I didn’t understand what he meant. I could tell though it was a huge question for him to ask. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know that answer. All his life when things got hard people left him. That was what he was expecting from me too. I took his head in my hands and made him look me in the eye. “My goal is to get you better, get you out of here and bring you home so I can marry you. What is your goal?”

“To make you the happiest wife on this planet.”

“Good then you see nothing has changed. Not one bit. I love you more than anything and I know you love me. You just proved that by fighting the hardest thing in your life to come back to me and stay with me. No one has ever loved me the way you do. I told you I was not going anywhere. I may leave for a few hours but I will always come back. Always, and you are coming home.” I kissed him then. It was the best kiss of my entire life. It may be a long road but at least Mat is here to walk it with me.

Mat is a miracle. I saw that miracle occur in just seven short days. Ironic how it was seven days. Each day there was small victories and set backs. There were times I was so scared I could hardly breathe. That selfish side of me that didn’t care what condition he was in so long as he was alive. I knew better than to do that. I knew that someone like him may never be okay with living a life not being able to take care of himself. Each day God taught me that prayer was powerful. I have told everyone that his room, no matter if he was in room one or the new one, his room always had this feeling to it for me. A room filled with love, this man has no idea how much he is loved. More than he will ever know. He has always had the very thing he has longed for, a family. It may not be the traditional family, but they are family nonetheless. One day I will read all the daily reports I posted. All the replies, so that he can see that he has always been loved and he is loved more than he believes.

Mat and I became sort of popular in the SICU. I had told our love story to the chaplain and she repeated it all. How I lost my first husband in 2019 and how Mat was the man who got me through the toughest nights of my life. I was now going to get Mat through his. We are two people who are very much in love. God showed me that even when I do not feel like I have courage he will be there to strengthen me when I felt like I could go no more. He gathered hundreds of prayer warriors together and then taught me to understand how important it is sometimes to pray for certain things. First we prayed for the smallest number possible for the DAI grade. We got that. We then prayed for Mat’s eye that it could be saved. It was. We then had to pray for strength so that Mat could come off the vent. He had it after all his chances of going back onto the vent were like ten percent. His recovery will be slow, it will be painful but at the end, waiting for him will be a beautiful woman in a white dress coming down that isle to make her his wife. The very thing that he has dreamed of all his life.

It is something to say that in my life I saw a miracle. Not everyone gets to say it. The chances of surviving a DAI injury are not great and they will always tell you that their quality of life will be much different. The thing about seeing a miracle is you also have to witness the tragic events that may proceed it, the fear that comes during it, and the complete helplessness, the of knowing this thing could only be laid at the feet of God and it had to be his will that what we asked was done. And if it wasn’t then once again I had to be okay that it wasn’t. God has a plan for Mat and I. I do not know what that plan is, all I know is that God has one and I just have to trust it.

Dee

Just a few days ago I had an interesting conversation with a group of ladies. One spoke about how women now days need to be able to stand up on their own, be able to take care of themselves with out the help of a man. Now this makes sense in the world today. I all to well understand what she means. I mean once my husband started working for the railroad there was a million things I had to learn how to do alone. I raised kids alone, fixed broken sinks, cars, and take care of a large yard. All alone. So listening to her talk about how we need to become independent women not dependent ones made sense to me.

Yet I have done nothing but analyze this since that day, and something just doesn’t feel right. So I started thinking about my marriage. Was I dependent on my husband. What is considered dependent? Well when we file taxes we mark our spouse and our children as our dependents. What does that entail? Well that means that we provide food, warmth, water, and a safe place to stay for those that depend on us. So was I completely dependent on my husband for everything I had? No. Was life easier because of him and his job? Yes. Yet because of his job I had to become independent. I had to raise children alone, take care of a home alone, fix cars, and sinks and other things that women all around me had help in doing. Was I dependent on him fully? No. Now I was only eighteen when I got married, so to say that I was dependent on him for most things at that time is a fair statement. Yet as the years passed I had to become independent to step in and do the things that he was not able to do because of the choice that was made.

I was a married independent woman. Kind of an oxymoron right? When we think of independence we think of someone who is completely alone. Not having to count on anyone else for anything. We see those people and think wow they are amazing! They do whatever they want when they want to, they are free! But are they? They still have responsibilities and stress and worries and sadness, and they have no one to share those burdens with. We think of them as strong. Have you really talked to someone that has done that? That has chosen a life alone? I have, surprisingly I have spoken to men about this. I know quite a few who chose a life alone over life with someone. I have also spoken with women who have also chosen that path. Some were forced on that path because of divorce, others chose that from the beginning, all say there are times when it is not easy, and they long to have a family. To have someone to walk next to them when times are hard or when something sad happens someone to just hold them through that.

You see no matter what side of the fence you are on there will always be times when things are hard. I know people who have been married for years and feel like they are very much alone. They have drifted apart from their spouse and they wonder if they are in love anymore. I cannot imagine that at all, yet I have seen it. I am left speechless at those relationships because they are not really relationships anymore are they? If they were then talking should have happened long ago. For me talking is everything, I guess that is why if I met someone that couldn’t talk and I mean really talk then I couldn’t see a future with them. Maybe that is all in knowing who you are at your core. Maybe they tried to talk and their spouse just refused to. I have no idea, I have never been in that position so I can’t really say.

Yet what I can say is this, I do not see myself as weak because I am in a relationship. I also do not look at a man and think he is alone he must have something wrong with him. It is not right. Do I look at a woman who isn’t married and think she is lucky or she is strong? I see plenty of single mothers out there and I know how hard it is. I have done it. We all look at those women and we think wow, yet I also know single dads and I look at them and think wow. So why don’t we look at people who are married for even ten years and think wow? Do we see them as weak because they choose to do life with someone next to them? We all know how hard a marriage is or any relationship for that matter. Shouldn’t we look at that and think wow, that is hard, they must work really hard at life. Does being with someone make life easier? I know that my life was a good one and yes it felt easy to be with my husband. Yet there were still hard times, there were times when I felt scared, and very much alone. Yet I chose to work through that. Did that mean that I was dependent on my husband to help me through those times. Yes, just like I am sure he depended on me to be there for him during those time too. Were we always successful at it? No. But that didn’t stop us from trying to do it better the next time.

I want to have someone to do life with, it doesn’t make me weak, it just means I know who I am. It means that I know the direction that I want my life to take and I know that I am a happier person with someone next to me. It doesn’t mean that I am dependent on someone, it means that I know how to be someone another person can depend on, that is a good feeling. I want to be that person. I am happy being that person. Just because you are alone doesn’t mean you are not that person, it just means that is where you are in your flow of life, and if you truly want to be with someone, then somewhere along the way, you will find the person you want to have next to you.

I guess in the end I want to be both, I want to be independent and in dependence. Because that means that I have the ability to look for wisdom and know that wisdom can be learned from other people and from the relationships that I have with them.

So last night Matt and I do something that we absolutely love. We have pillow talk. Now this is not your normal pillow talk this is thoughts and ideas that cross our minds during the day. So we try to remember those things then talk about it with the other. This has been an amazing way to get to really know each other. I have learned so much about him and from him because of this. Well last night we talked about one thing that made me wonder how others feel.

I have been in two different places in life, the first is that comfortable place that we all settle down into. Marriage, family, comfort, safety, true happiness. It was not until almost two years after my husband passed that I realized that yes I was happy but maybe not as happy as I could have been. Why? Because for me I felt like I stopped climbing the mountain. I found a safe pretty spot to settle into and was good with it. I pushed dreams and goals aside and thought life couldn’t get any better. I never wrote, I was content with where I was in life. I didn’t challenge myself and was good with that.

Now that I have crashed down to the trench and am finally out of that and looking towards the top of the mountain I suddenly have the drive to not just climb back to where I was but to get to the top. To follow my dreams no matter how crazy they are and see the life that God has in store for me. I am excited and nervous but also very scared. I have all the “What if’s” in my head. Just like every other person who is chasing dreams. Yet I push all of those aside and just tell myself that I can only do what I can and the rest I just have to have faith and trust. What I also know is that if I fail, at least I have learned what not to do, and successful people don’t give up. They learn the lesson and they keep going. Finding ways to reach their dreams in ways that they never expected. That is me, I am going to reach my dreams and climb to the top of the Mountain.

Yet as Matt and I laid in bed together and talked the question came up. Why climb? If you are happy and content, why not settle at the bottom of the mountain? Most of us like small, simple, safe lives. We settle at the bottom of the mountain or somewhere near the middle and we are content. Yet I have learned that you can still fall at the bottom of that mountain. A trench can still open up and swallow you whole, or a avalanche can come racing down and wipe out everything you have. The bottom of the mountain really is not any safer than the top. His ultimate question to me was if you are happy and content why climb at all? I was speechless, I had no idea how to answer that question. I knew that everything inside me screamed because you have to! But do we really? That answer is no. We don’t. Most of us are good with where we are and what we are doing. We tell ourselves that we are making it not to bad in life and that those big dreams and desires are not really for everyone. We tell ourselves that that person was born with a special talent, or they were born into privilege, or they just happened to get lucky.

The truth could be though that those who seem to have reached the top of the mountain were the ones that kept climbing. Even when someone told them not to. Or when someone told them they were nothing special. They didn’t listen, they still placed one foot in front of the other and they went to work and dug deep to continue to climb. They continued to climb even when society said, now wait one minute, you came from nothing, you may not belong with those on the top. They chose not to listen and climb anyways. Those are the stories we love to hear, those are the stories that they make movies out of. Why? Because someone reached the top of the mountain and they made the climb even when told they shouldn’t. Those are the stories of hope. Those are the stories that we say things like “what dreams are made of.” We call them “fairytales” and “too good to be true.”

In the end it really isn’t any of those things. It is someone who had a dream, and chose to climb the mountain no matter how many times they fell. They would just not give up. Now I know there are millions of people who have climbed and kept climbing and never made it to the top. Yet I wonder if you asked them if it was all worth it, I think they would say yes. They would say that it would crush them to live with the unknown “what if” or “if only” so they were going to climb and work and chase their dreams no matter what. I believe it is because as long as they were chasing that dream, their life had a sense of purpose, and having a sense of purpose is everything. Right?

I would love to hear what you think. Why do you climb the mountain or have you chose to settle and be happy where you are? Either place is not a bad place to be in, I would just like to know. Do you climb or not?

Dee

Wow it has been a while now hasn’t it? I guess that is what happens when you write a book! What? Yup you read that right. I finally just broke down and chased my dream and wrote a book. I am painfully waiting on the copyright to be approved so that I can officially do a release. It has been so hard to keep it all secret but I am close to being able to share it with you all. I want to thank everyone that has read and follows my blog. It has been your simple words of encouragement that has given me courage to follow this dream. I have missed writing on here and I am happy to be back at it. I pray and hope that you all have done well during the pandemic. Thankfully our prayers have been heard and we have stayed healthy, and a vaccine has been released.

Other than the book, my life has been amazing and I cannot wait to share what has been going on. I am so excited to report that Matt and I are still very happily together and are engaged to be married! What? I know it seems like not that long ago life was kicking my ass. Yet here I am saying I’m not going down yet. It is a good feeling to know that I have had a very tragic thing happen to me and I have found the strength to find my way from out of the trench back into life.

I am now starting to work on what my second book will be about. I can’t believe that I have not only wrote one book but I am on to the second one already. I have lots of ideas and thoughts, it is just getting them all spread out and sort through them to find the direction I should go. It is a lot but it feels good to have a purpose and to follow my passion. I am finally doing what I love and it makes me feel complete. I may never sell a single book or become a NYT Bestseller, but I am doing what makes me happy and in life that is what we need to focus on. What I have really learned in the past few months is that. I can still work at a job that I enjoy and get paid very well to do. And do what I love to do, write. It doesn’t have to be either or, it can be both. Yes writing the book took hours and it isn’t even very long, but it felt like I was alive while writing it. I went to bed tired and worn completely out but it was worth the going to bed late and waking up early.

I hope you all are doing well. My journey through my grief is always an ongoing one. Yet I have learned that even on the hardest days I am truly blessed. I was loved by an incredible man, and I had a wonderful life with him. Yet after completing my book I feel like I can really move forward and have found life again. Yes Matt is a part of that, but just a part. My kids are another part of that, and they are doing okay. We still struggle and I hate to say that in closing in on our second year we have had some big struggles. COVID has played a big hand in that. In school out of school and then back in. We all talk about returning back to normal, yet as most people who have dealt with a loss, we know normal is just a setting on the dryer. Yet in the end I don’t think I want to ever live a normal life again. I have learned that our time here is so precious and what I thought was the top of the mountain was really just a rest stop. I was knocked down from that and found myself in the trench but I am climbing out and my sights are set at the top of the mountain. Funny how you can only see the top when you are at the bottom.

Yet now that I know where the top is and my purpose and have a plan on how to get to the top, it is time to begin the climb. I welcome you all to join in. We will have slips and close calls and ropes that break and we may never see the top or maybe we get to only be at the top for a split second, but the point isn’t really reaching the top. It is all about the climb. Welcome to the next journey in this Lioness’s life. It is time to climb.

Dee

Falling in love is something I have dreamed of doing my entire life. I fell in love with my husband. I loved him dearly. When I was young I wanted to find that love. The deep “I’m going to be with you forever” kind of love. I thought I found that love. Yet it came with some huge sacrifices. Some that I only realized after he passed I had made. I loved fearlessly. I only cared that he came home and that he wanted to come home. I was angry after he passed, because I had made the sacrifices for him, I didn’t chase dreams, I did exactly what I was supposed to as a wife. I took care of the home, the kids, and him and his needs. I know how to love there is no doubt about it. I also now know the price of love. It is deep, it is soul crushing, it is filled with fear. I am no longer the fearless. I don’t want to love just anyone, I want someone who says I can’t live without you, because you make even breathing easier.

Mat says those things. Yet here I am living in fear. Fear that he will see my flaws, yes I have many of them. No he has not seen them yet, it’s only been two months. I am afraid to love fully as I did my husband, because I know the incurable hurt that comes with the ultimate loss. I want to teach my daughters this one thing, if you think you have found the one, ask yourself this, is he worth the hurt that is going to come when you lose him? Because you will lose him maybe not to another woman or because things didn’t work out, but the one loss that can’t be avoided, death. It will take the person away and sometimes when you least expect it. Is the person you are with worth that kind of love. The kind that even knowing that one day you will go through the worst pain in your life, and you are willing to do that for them. Only then do you know that you truly love that person. Not are you willing to die for them, but are you willing to go through the pain of losing them to death. No scar is deeper, no hurt compares to it, and only real love makes it worth it.

That is how I know I am in love with Mat. I am willing to face that loss again. This man that I have actually known most of my life has stolen my heart. I can’t get it back. Being with him is unlike anything I have ever done. This love is different than the love I had with my first husband. It is this wild love that is so addictive that I can’t seem to get enough of him of even being around him. It’s not the young love of hormones and feeling good. It’s more it is this feeling of nothing is better than being in his arms, nothing is better than crawling into bed next to him. It’s knowing that even if the world were to fall apart all around us, I would be protected and loved no matter what. It is the kind of love that sneaks up and grabs you without you realizing it. Then it slams into you without you knowing it, suddenly you can’t go an hour without stopping to smile because of something that happened. A single moment that you think about you replay every second over and over again in your mind. Because it seems like nothing can get better than that. Yet the next time I see him, something even better happens.

Suddenly being away from him is hard, and yet he knows the exact moment that I seem to be struggling. Because I get a text then, and according to him, I do the same. The moment he starts to wonder himself I text him and I always say what he needs to hear. (or read since we really text more than anything.) Suddenly getting out of bed is easy and done with a smile. Suddenly I am back to living fearlessly. To knowing that I could be hurt all over again, to being crushed, but if that is the case, then it is the path that I have willingly chose. I push that fear aside and find that love and joy are right there intertwined with that fear. Yet the love and joy win over the fear and I feel like I can take on the world. To know your purpose is the best feeling in the world. Nothing is better than falling in love with your best friend.

About two months ago the ladies I work with started something that has really caught on. We have ladies only dinner night. It started out with just us at work but it has grown to a large group of friends, even my adult daughters go. This has become a weekly dinner for us. Yes I said weekly. I know what you are thinking. That is a big commitment. Here is the thing. We know that everyone has a busy life. With kids and spouses and ex-spouses and all the other distractions of life. Yet what we women tend to forget is that we have needs too. Those needs include feeling connected to others. What we have learned doing this is that it is not always fair to go home every day and depend on your spouse to always be there for you. We have learned that most men want to come home and just check out. As one put it to me the other day, I don’t want to come home and talk. My talking hours are from eight to five, by the end of the day I’m all talked out. I felt terrible for his wife, who works a job where she doesn’t talk, for most of the day. It got me thinking, most jobs women have, do not require a lot of adult talking. They require professional responses and all the thoughts that come and go through a woman’s mind just do not have a place to go. So they build up and when they get home the only person they have to listen to is the spouse. Or the pet. Let me tell you my cat is no fun at all. He thinks all my ideas are bad unless it includes me scratching behind his ear. So we started “Ladies Night”. A bunch of women who get together and talk about everything. I mean EVERYTHING. Yes even sex is talked about a lot. We realize that we probably talk and think about sex just as much if not more than a man does. We have just been raised in a society that it is not proper for a woman to talk about it. Why is that? Men do and it is acceptable. Let me tell you what, it is healthy to talk about it. Women should not feel ashamed to say they want to be intimate with their spouse or lover or some random person they just met.

What we should be taught is where it is okay to talk about things like that. In a safe group of women where you are not looked down on is the perfect place to talk about such things. It is a place where questions can be asked and tips given, and more importantly it teaches our young women that it is a healthy part of a marriage. Yet there is a deeper conversation going on at this table. It is on a deeper level and you only hear it if you really listen. No not a conversation about sex, that is the outside conversation. The one that causes all the laughter and smiles and noise. No the real conversation is quieter, it lies underneath all of the noise.

The real conversation going on is women encouraging each other to live. To be themselves, to do what she deems impossible. Sometimes it is to let someone go, or to fight for the one they love. It isn’t about work because work doesn’t really get brought up. No it’s about women being women, and how nice it is to just go and have one drink with the girls and laugh. To relax, to not have to worry about dinner for the evening. We know that school may change what we do, but for now the dinners provide something we need. Someone besides our spouse, or in my case my boyfriend, to talk to.

If you are feeling lonely and you have lost your way or you feel forgotten. Here is our advice. 1) Remember who you are at your core. 2) Exercise. Even if it is just walking around the block or even down the damn block. Do it for you because you are worth it. If it is hard trust it, one day it will be easy and the only thing you will struggle with is to remember what life was like before. 3) Pray. If you don’t pray then meditate, find a way to bring peace and quiet into your life. This is just as important as exercise. 4) You control your thoughts think positive. Call it manifestation, prayer, or whatever other fancy word you want. We all know Karma’s a bitch and she will knock you on your knees every chance she gets. Stop being negative about yourself, and about others. The world is full of negative already, it doesn’t need you to add to it. Be positive. 5) Change will suck as long as you let it. It is your perspective that decides what change really is. Stop being control freaks! Let change make you a better person. 6) Accept people for who they are. You will find that being around people who are exactly like you will drive you crazy. People who are different than you will make you grow as a person. They will be your favorite people in this world. 7) Find something worth fighting for. Love, relationships, family, life. This is where your purpose lies. If it is worth fighting for then it is because you are passionate for it. We are not all passionate about the same things, some of us will have simple passions. Others will have big passions. One is not better than the other. The small are just as important as the big, all are worth fighting for. 8) Love. Love yourself, your family, your place in life, the people in your life, that is where feeling rich comes from. Even the wealthiest people feel alone, while the poorest feel like they have it all. Because they are surrounded by love. Love is everything.

So rather you are a man or a woman, find your group, go to dinner. Laugh, argue, tease, love, be a family. That is what living is all about. If you’re ever in Oklahoma give me a shoutout, you are welcomed at our table anytime. Just be ready to get teased, to hear about sex, to laugh, but mostly be ready to be loved.

When Ed passed it was as if the joy and happiness of life was sucked right out of me. In the few seconds it took for a doctor to say I’m sorry there was just nothing we could do, that one blink of the eye, it was all gone. And while the logical part of me said one day I would be happy again, my heart believed that it was a lie. Happiness was only a past emotion that I truly would never feel again. I would smile, I would laugh, but to feel that elation of pure joy and happiness, that was just something that was taken from me. I Was WRONG…..so very, very, wrong.

All through this last year I have had this one person right in front of me. We grew up in the same town, with the same people, with the same beliefs. Though we were never really friends, I knew who he was. He was part of the popular crowd. I grew up not in that crowd. Growing up with this secret crush on a guy I believed didn’t even know that I existed. I was wrong. I assumed that he was just another one of those have it all kids and I was a have not kid. Wrong on that too. Man I was batting a thousand on being wrong. Not really the batting avg I want.

A month or so after Ed passed Mat contacted me just to say how sorry for my loss he was. We talked for a short time just quickly, yet like everyone he told me he was always around if I needed to talk. I put him out of my mind. After all that is what everyone said. Yet just a month or so later I found myself having a very lonely night. I had called and texted everyone and they were all busy. It was before I started counseling and I just felt like I had no one. So I just checked in. Again we talk about normal things. How he struggled with work and I just needed to have a normal conversation not about Ed. Once again we have a short conversation. But it was long enough to help me through the night. A month later there we were again. This time he was checking in with me. The conversation gets a little longer but again we just keep it short and while we talk about a little personal things it was just two people getting to know each other slowly. Very slowly. The months that followed plagued us both with trying to have relationships and nothing working out. The only thing that did was us being able to count on the other to answer a message via messenger. Neither one daring to offer a phone number. His life was full of switching jobs to find happiness and me just working through grief. Yet we talked about real things. The hard stuff we went through as kids. This is where I learned about how the boy I grew up thinking had everything really had nothing just like me. Who had to get a job as soon as I did so that he could have money. Just like me. Talk about feeling really stupid. This is also where I learn about the man he became, and how divorce can feel like death to some people. I have talked about that a little here and really it was him that made me think about it.

Suddenly it’s the holidays and we are now talking at least three times a month. Sometimes back to back days but mostly just when the long lonely nights hit us. During this time I was seeing the wrong guy and in love with one who never wanted to love anyone again. He was also struggling with demons that he couldn’t even tell me about. We talked about facing demons a lot. Yet neither one of us would say what exactly our demons were. Maybe it was because we were both ashamed of our actions or maybe it was because we didn’t want the other person to think badly of the other. Or maybe we just didn’t trust the other not to judge. So once again we talk about other things. The mistakes we felt like we made. The things we wished we would have done differently and the hope for the future, the hope of finding real love. Yet both of us saying that reality was we were not ready for a serious relationship. How dating sounded nice but we were just not ready. Before I knew it we were talking at least once a week. Then suddenly he was on social media talking about being with someone. I was happy for him. He had found what he was looking for. He was off to spend the weekend with her and I felt a small stab in my heart. But I still had my own mess to deal with. It was the next day that I realized I was done with all my messes. So I started saying goodbye to it all. It was time to love me. It was hard. But day by day I did it. I also didn’t message him anymore he was with someone. It wouldn’t be right. I did tell him on his post that I was happy for him.

It wasn’t long though that suddenly his post went from being happy to worrisome. How he was going to be gone for a while and how he needed to just get away from everyone. I quickly asked him if he was okay. It was then the real talk began. We began to talk about the demons that we both were fighting. How suddenly we were no longer afraid of being judged and we needed to talk to someone. Really talk and because we were so open and honest with each other before we really could open up now. I told him everything. Hiding nothing and he did the same for me. It was so good to really just opened up like I hadn’t ever before. I was being me the real me. And suddenly I just lay it out on the table. I think we should go on a date. He says okay and then makes all the plans. It was a very long two week wait that was full of anxiety. Of wondering if it was even going to happen to the what if he sees me and decides we are just friends. Every negative thought I could have had I’m pretty sure I did. Even up to the day before I just had this terrible feeling that he was going to cancel.

He didn’t and we ended up having a wonderful time. We went out to one of his friends farm and shot our guns. It was a day full of laughter and fun and I relaxed and was myself and so was he. The date was great we didn’t have those awkward silence moments and we didn’t feel forced to talk. Though once the day was over though I was pretty sure he was going to say. I’m so glad we are friends and leave it at that. But that isn’t what happened at all. He texted me right away and told me that I was invited out any time they were there. Though he didn’t say when that would be, he did say that he had a great time. Yet it was so hard to judge how he felt or how I felt for that matter. I needed time with him alone. It was two days later that I took a chance and something happened that took us both by surprise.

Mat is a runner like me. It is one of the many things that attracted me to him. One day after work we were texting and he mentioned that he was going to get ready for his run. I told him that it was very hot outside and to be careful. He said that he was going to wait an hour or so before he went. This is where I just go for it. I tell him that if he waited an hour I could be there and go with him. He said okay. I couldn’t believe it. I changed into my running gear jumped into my car and headed his way. My heart pounded the entire time. I had that butterflies in the tummy I can’t believe I’m doing this crazy thing feeling. I made it to the lake by his home and we walked around this beautiful lake holding hands not caring about the heat. We talked about everything and anything. And the more we talked the more I fell in love. I mean I knew I liked him. But to have actual feelings I just wasn’t sure. I definitely was attracted to him. I always was in school. I just kept walking next to him thinking I can’t believe I am walking next to him. He held my hand or we would walk with my arm slipped through his. My favorite was when he would lift my hand and hold it up near his heart. Which was racing as fast as mine. We walked for almost ten miles. Ten miles! We just didn’t want to be away from each other. It was the most romantic evening I think I have ever had. By the end of that night I knew I was falling head over heels for this man. We talked about real things about our demons, about life as kids. The shit we went through as teenagers. The secret crush we had on each other how we knew exactly where the other sat in school. We remembered it all. I could talk about losing Ed and how that affected me. How unhappy I was in some areas of my marriage and how angry I had been with Ed and didn’t know that I was angry or even unhappy. I was content with my marriage and really learned that nothing was perfect, and I was happy because I wanted to be, I chose to be. But in my struggles after his passing I learned to process and really learned what I wanted in my next relationship and even in my next marriage. For the first time in my life my children and me were going to come first. Nothing will come before that. It was that simple. For the first time in my life I was able to tell someone how I really felt. It was amazing to be so opened with someone.

Needless to say by the end of ten miles and two and half hours, I was head over heels with this man. The icing on the cake was that he was from home, it was like walking with my best friend whom I haven’t seen in years and it took a ten mile walk just to begin to catch up. We haven’t stopped talking since. When we finally left the lake that night he kissed me. Not the big romantic kiss but just a soft peck on the lips. Which after just asking was not planned he said it just happened. Yup falling pretty hard for this one. I drove home that night kicking myself for not just planting one right back on him. But in the end I’m glad I didn’t. It wouldn’t have been right. The real first kiss came later and it was earth shaking, and I have not walked with my feet on the ground since.

We have spent all the spare time we have with each other, most of that time is spent walking and talking. Both of us working through the demons that we face, but we are not facing them alone anymore. It is so odd how it all happened. The very thing I was looking for was right there in front of me the whole time. For both of us actually. We talk about that too, how suddenly we can’t imagine life without the other in it. How suddenly you are in love with your best friend and the heart pounding excitement is in your chest, and the entire time you feel like it is a dream and unreal. This kind of thing only happens in the movies right? You sit back and everyone else sees the connection and you refuse to because the demons you face tell you it’s not right. That you are not good enough, that it can’t be possible. Yet in one night, one ten mile walk, it smacks you in the face and the heart and suddenly you realize what you were looking for was right there in front of you. The man you wanted to find was the man that had been with you the entire time, you just had to be willing to believe that it was possible. I fell in love with my best friend, it happened in real life, not scripted in some movie, but in my life it happened. It happened the right way. We became friends, then best friends, and now something so much more than I could have ever hoped for. It took us almost a year to get to know each other, and feel ready to actually date. Why did it take so long? Maybe because in the back of our heads we just knew, that the other was the kind of person we could see ourselves being with for the rest of our lives. Maybe that scared us both, maybe when we said we were not ready, it was the fact that we were not ready to take that kind of chance again. To be willing to open up and be willing to maybe just get our hearts crushed yet again.

Yet after that walk that two and a half hours, of being opened and raw and real. I knew. He is everything I have been looking for. I have found that joy again, and it was with me the whole time. I just had to believe in it.

Dee

My counselor and I have talked in length about healing. Everywhere I have gone people talk to me about healing. Hearing about a million times, “you just need time to heal.” People say that but if you asked them what does that look like or how do you do that? They stare at you because they just don’t know. They are only saying what they think is best, and they are trying to make you feel better. Listen up people, saying things like “Time will help you heal.” and “Well you never really get over it, you just need to heal.” I’m telling you it sounds stupid to someone like me. The truth is there is no amount of time that you can measure that gets you to a better place. This, this is what really happens…………

The moment that Ed was pronounced dead, his energy or spirit, left his body and was sent out into the universe. Where it did what it was supposed to it found his family and he settled down with us. It is the weight of grief. We talk about the burden of grief of loss, that is the only way most people are able to describe it, people who have yet to experience it in all of its fullness. God helps with that, he spares us most of that grief, in a way. I was not too close to my grandparents when they passed. Yes I was sad and I miss them and their stories and their warmth, but for me it was pretty easy to wake up and continue with my life. I am sure it was not easy for my father and my mother they loved their parents dearly. I have lost uncles and aunts, each leaving a memory and a sense of loss. But nothing I am sure compared to what their children or spouse feel.

What I am talking about is something that happened to me and it was only when I meditated and calmed myself from the crazy of the world that I was able to focus on what was going on in the space around me. As you all know I was so frustrated with people who said that they would always be here for my kids and I and then they just vanished, not to be seen or heard from again. I couldn’t ever figure out why this is such a common thing that happens when a loved one dies. What I have learned is this. My children and I talk about feeling their father with us all the time. Little things that happen and we just know it is him taking care of us. We laugh about it, we have cried about it, and in the end we are comforted by it. Yes we miss him, but this whole time we have carried his energy with us. It is heavy, and when people come around us they feel him too. Strongly, they tend to get emotional, they tend to feel that hurt and that loss even more. But it isn’t the loss or the hurt they are feeling, they feel him. And that’s what brings up the feelings of loss and hurt. You see? WE as his family keep him alive and with us, because we talk about him, we talk to him, and we still sit in the comfort of knowing he is with us. Others forget that feeling of him, it is only when we are near that they are once again touched by his love.

This is what healing is, not getting use to the loss of someone, but getting use to the weight of their energy. It is intense, it is heavy, and it is a burden. Yet as time passes we become use to that weight, much like training, we become strong enough to carry that weight. Some choose to carry it like a champion, they take it on and do whatever they can to make that burden not seem so heavy. We stand back and watch those people, they are whom we call strong. They get up they go to work they do the things they are meant to and we stand back in amazement and pray that one day we handle death as well as they do. Then there are others who we watch crumble and we worry about them because the weight seems to just push them into the ground. They spend hours in bed or locked up in their homes just trying to deal with the knowledge that the other is gone. While many women have told me that they would be the later of the two, I think that there is no way to know which one you would ever be until the day comes that you must put on the mantle of someone’s energy. I also know that there are days when you are both types of people. That is why I have always called healing messy.

I want to give you a clearer picture of what that looks like.

There are all types of warriors. WE are warriors, you just don’t see yourself as one, but you are. When we think of warriors we think about how they train. They do for hours and months and years. In my mind I really think of knights, not only did they have to be good welding weapons, they had to be in peak physical condition in order to wear their armor. Even to this day our military go through the toughest training so that they can be mentally and physically prepared to fight. It takes a while but in the end, a warrior is fully ready to take on their armor and they are mentally ready to deal with any threat.

Yet training isn’t always easy, they end up with cuts and bruises, sometimes even breaking bones, putting their bodies through hell. So that it can perform the way it needs to. Athletes do the same thing, they tear up their bodies in order to have the strength they need in order to perform the way they need to. This is the same thing that happens when you take on the energy of a loved one. It beats us down at first, and there is no training that can be done to prepare for this. Even if you know it is coming there is just no way to be ready. It completely consumes you and at first the only thing you are able to do is breathe. In my experience that was all I was able to do, and I had to make myself do it. Others got me into a doctor quickly because breathing was hard, and yes I had to have medication to help with that, though I didn’t need it long. As the days passed I got use to the weight of Ed as the weeks and months passed I slowly got stronger. I believe that my running helped with the mental aspect of it all. Not because I was alone and could think, actually it was quite the opposite. It was because I could shut my mind off and find peace. The place where breathing was the easiest. Now a year later I am almost back to normal. Well as normal as I can be, and the good thing is I am stronger. I am a warrior and I will find my way back to me and I will carry the energy of the man that I loved with beautiful grace because that is what he deserves. It is the only way to honor him. Ask me about him, I will tell you all about him, and for a while you will feel his love too. For he will always be with me, and his children. We are strong we are brave, we are warriors.

Dee