Author: mfregien6c146e4539

Last time I posted it was the two year anniversary of Jason’s death…now we are coming up on our 23rd Wedding Anniversary…Aug 26th. I still count it. In my heart we’re still married. He’s my husband. I’m his wife. Always will be. Aug 26th is also Levi’s birthday. He turns 16 this year (yikes!). Saturday my happy face will be firmly in place for him, but I’m definitely having harder than usual moments this week.

A friend commented to me on Aug 8th that I have “made a lot of progress” the past two years. I wish the words that people use sometimes wouldn’t stick with me so much, but I think being the “word geek” that I am means that words hold a lot of weight with me. They always have. “Made a lot of progress”…implies that there’s some sort of destination…some end point… I just keep tumbling those words over and over in my head “made a lot of progress”.

Have I changed over the past two years? Absolutely yes. My core being is still devastatingly sad…always. I miss my husband…my life partner…my soul mate…my forever. I miss the life we had built together. The social shenanigans with other couples. The safety and security I always felt in him. The knowing I was absolutely, positively loved by him and could be my most complete self with him.

But I have also learned to live a little more “around” that. I can have fun times with family or friends and be happy in those moments. It sucks complete and total a$$ when I come home and all I want to do is tell Jason about everything…and he isn’t here…and sometimes that crash and burn doesn’t feel completely worth the happy moments…but I’m working on it. I guess one could call that “progress” towards something.

I’m taking an Introduction to Poetry class right now. There are 5 of us in the class and it amazes me every week how much life experience plays into how a person reads and interprets poetry. My lens of sadness and grief give every poem we read a slightly more morose tone. Literally, one poem we read I was like “obviously the guy wants to die” and all my classmates were like “no, he just wants to go to his cabin by the lake”. Huh…really?? I spose.

Our instructor has been giving us different prompts to spur our own poetry writing. This poem was the result of one of those prompts…

Pillowtalk

Drifting away to sleep
Bodies tangled
Familiar mixup of limbs
Comfortable and safe

His voice whispers
In the still night
“I can’t remember if I told you today
But I love you”

And with those last words
He relaxes into sleep
While she lies awake
Squeezing her eyes shut tight

Trying to capture that moment
Like a snapshot in her heart
That she can keep in a box
And look at whenever she wants

When he’s not there
When the beast living in his brain
Devouring him little by little
Finally consumes him

And all that she’s left with is the
Ghost of pillowtalk

2 years. Already. Only.

I took the top all the way down on my Bronco yesterday and got myself lost for most of the day. And that was everything I needed. I blasted my music…sang along at the top of my lungs… and just did me. Went down to Red Wing. To the top of Memorial Bluff. Got out and sat there for a long time. Reminisced about the first time I was in Red Wing. It was over the winter break when Jason and I were in college. I had yet to meet his parents and I think he convinced them to let me stay for a week or two. Red Wing has changed a lot since then!

Red Wing

On the two year anniversary of your death
I find myself in the city of your birth
Called here
To the top of a bluff
Looking down at the city below
The hustle and bustle
The river in the background
The sickly sweet smell of the granary
Last time I was here was with you
It was Fall
I don’t remember looking out
All I could see was you
All I could ever see was you
Now I search for you everywhere

I wanted to just drive down the river from Red Wing…but Road Construction…so I crossed the river and drove down to Wabasha on the WI side. And then ran into lots of road construction in Downtown Wabasha. Stumbled upon Slipperys by accident…the bar/restaurant where Grumpy Old Men was filmed…and had lunch there. This was the the hardest part of my road trip…getting a table for one…and then sitting there amidst all the other families…couples…friend groups. Ugh. Teary-eyed in the bathroom before I left.

I got home about 3’oclock and realized that next time I take a topless road trip I need to apply sunscreen…ouch! I was feeling much more centered and much more able to be present for our kids. Levi and I decided to make bread pudding…Jason’s favorite dessert. We went to the grocery store together to buy the ingredients and then made it together. The four of us ordered Thai food…and played games together. There was a lot of laughter…and some tears…but having adult kids is so fun. I loved every minute. I will readily admit that I drank too many Old Fashioneds…and am feeling the effects just a bit today…but we all had a good time together and that’s what counts. Jason would have loved it…and nursed me through my hangover this morning…lol

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to reach out this past week. “Hospice Week” will always be very difficult for me.

Woke up to this beauty blossoming…

Two days until two years. I’m not okay and am starting to panic. I’ve only made it two years alone and it feels like there are way too many empty years to go. 43 years old was way too young for Jason to die…and way too young to become a widow.

I’m trying to figure out who I am…again. Find some joy in life…again. I bought a Ford Bronco 10 days ago. A move some applauded, some judged, some implied I was crazy…mid-life crises…whatever…whatever. Truth of the matter is that I fell in love with driving with the wind in my hair years ago when Jason surprised me by renting a Mustang convertible when we were in California for one of his Nationals tournaments. I don’t think he even got to drive it…I was having too much fun. Convertibles in MN are not the most practical, so my dream quickly became to get a Jeep Wrangler. But then I was talking to a friend and he got me thinking about a Bronco. Levi and did research…test drove one….fell in love. Thought I was a Jeep Girl…nope…Bronco Babe. The fact of the matter is that I don’t have to defend my choice to anyone….but my Bronco helps me feel a little badass…less trampled by life…and makes me excited to get out and about. Those things are worth it to me.

I also decided to stop just thinking about taking a poetry class and actually do it. So last week I starting a 6 week long Introduction to Poetry class through The Loft. It is online every Monday from 6-8pm. I love it so much. It is a beginner class…so more talking about poetic form and structure than writing poetry…but it is exercising parts of my brain that have gone stagnant. It is so amazing to discover what really gifted poets can do with their poetry. How they can convey such emotion with such simple words. It’s very inspiring…and humbling.

I’m trying. I’m learning to be present in happy moments, even when I’m sad at my core. I was in Wausau this past weekend and had a really good time with my besties from high school and getting together with some family for my niece’s baptism. I was there. I truly enjoyed those things. And then I got home and was just DONE.

And now this week. 2 years ago this was “hospice week”. I feel like I am at war with myself. Like my mind wants to keep going back there, but my heart is in too much pain. And I just can’t deal. I tried to escape into a book tonight…and literally the first chapter of the book…the wife is by her husband’s bedside waiting for him to breathe his last breath. No. No. No.

Last night I didn’t sleep much. I think it was 2am and I was still awake…writing poetry

Without

He left me
Broke his vow
Forever

He left me
Still loved me
Couldn’t stay

He left me
Couldn’t fight it
Terminal

He left me
More each day
Unstoppable

He left me
Breath ceased
Heartbreak

He left me
Who am I?
Stranger

He left me
What remains?
Loneliness

I went hiking this morning and it was exactly what I needed.

Hiking in the Rain

I lace my boots tight
Inaugural outing

Pack loaded up
Ready to buckle on again

Butterflies in my stomach
Excitement and nervousness

What if the woods don’t feel like home anymore either?

But the trees canopy over the trail
Like a big green doorway

And the tree branches wave hello
As the wind rustles their leaves

And Mother Nature welcomes me
As my boots crunch on the trail

My whole body sighs
Tuning in and tuning out

Every exhale
Distractions fade

Every inhale
Senses sharpen

All that is important surrounds me in this moment

The birds singing to each other
Hidden in the safety of the boughs

Little frogs hop on the trail
I’m mindful of each step

A doe startles in the long grass
Flicks her tail in irritation as she bounds off

Delicate flowers blossom on trail’s edge
Small delights to the observant few

It starts to rain
I tilt my face up to the sky

Raindrops mingle with tears
The thirsty earth and I soak up the rain together

And a million eyes witness my baptism
As I spin slowly feeling reborn

This is where I belong

I’ve decided that the word I hate most in the whole English language is “just”. I hate it even more than “moist”….lol. Now the word “just” has a bunch of different definitions and can be used in a whole slew of different contexts. The one particular usage of it that I detest is one of it’s adverb forms. A quick Google search defines “just” in this form as “simply; only; no more than”.

In the past almost 23 months I have been told I “just” need to do this or that. And let me tell you…when someone is going through something big, emotional, life-altering, etc. the last thing they want to hear from anyone is “just” because it totally downplays the immensity of the situation. It makes it seem like there is a simple solution, when in reality there is often no solution.

Here are some examples of things that I have been told I should “just”.

• Be grateful for what I have
• Remember all the good times we had together
• Move on
• Trust God
• Get through today
• Look forward to all the great things our kids are going to do
• Be happy that Jason is in a better place
• Keep busy
• Try
• Reach out
• Live because Jason wouldn’t want me to be sad

I apologize for that little bit of a soapbox. Maybe it seems like it came out of left field, but it’s been stewing in my brain for awhile. Especially more now that we’re approaching two years that Jason has been gone. It’s a harsh world out there for people who are grieving…filled with judgement and “just”.

I haven’t posted a poem for awhile. I’m not one to necessarily get all excited about signs…but this cardinal spoke to me this morning.

Cardinal Love

Gazing out my window
Cup of coffee in my hand
On my desk a piece of paper
Blank-waiting for my plan

Words jumble in my head
I can’t get them to behave
And then a flash of red
A cardinal catches my gaze

He perches on the wire
Right outside my window pane
I feel like he can see ME
A moment impossible to explain

He visits just a moment
Before gliding to the feeder
I keep looking for his mate
But I don’t see her

Maybe she’s back in their love nest
Sleeping in this dreary morn
Perhaps she was awake all night
Protecting their brood from the storm

The cardinal flits away
In his clenched beak some seeds
A doting mate and loving father
His family he works to feed

And as he flies out of sight
My parting thought is this
I’m jealous of that lady bird
I blow her mate a kiss

Jason’s nephew got married on Saturday. It was the first family wedding I’ve attended since Jason died. I knew it would be hard, but it was important to me to be there with the family celebrating. I gave myself a pep talk beforehand that went something like “Marie…you will not lose your shit at the wedding” over and over again. And I was doing fine…chatting….visiting with family that came from North Dakota…dancing…only a little teary. And then reality hit me like a ton of bricks…and I was NOT fine.

The only good thing about losing my shit there was that I was with people that understood…let me have my moment…and then got me back out on the dance floor. Granted I was pretty much on the verge of tears the rest of the night, it was important to me that I be there. Love is always worth celebrating….even when it hurts.

To complete my unraveling…because why not?… I decided to really pull an “Alice” when I got home and went down the “rabbit hole”…pulling up pictures and videos from Jeremy and Cheryl’s wedding two years ago. Our last family pictures. Our last dance together. Hearing his voice. I miss him. And that’s not fixable or figureoutable.

Once Again

And I’m sitting in the corner
Vision blurred
Wishing you would walk in
Grab my hand
Pull me into your arms
For just
One more
Dance

And with my head on your shoulder
I love you’s in my ear
Swaying back and forth
The world
Would right itself
And start to make sense
Once
Again