Monday, June 7, 2010

Upside Down



Shit like this does not happen to ordinary people. I mean we are boring. This is the kind of stuff that you read about in the newspaper, and well I guess a lot of people did read about it in the newspaper, and hear it on the news. I didn’t. I went to pick my husband up from work after having a wonderful day out with friends. It just happened to be the first time I had ever taken him to work. I went to pick him up and my life was changed forever. One moment I was waiting for Jason to walk out with his big smile the next moment I was been told that he was in critical condition in the hospital. How does some thing like this happen? Nothing has been the same since. The drive from Spring Hill to Middlemore Hospital was the longest one I have ever experienced. The kids were laughing and playing in the back, I was trying hard to be calm, and I didn’t want to freak them out. I have never spent so much time physically shaking as I have lately. Hearing the doctors use the words “injuries un-survivable” is something I hope no one I know ever has to experience. I broke down, I bawled, I said it can’t be true. But it was. I pulled myself together and wanted to see him … NOW. Nothing else mattered right then. Not the kids, or anything. I only had time for him. I spent the whole night holding his hand and whispering in his ear, kissing his forehead and stroking his hair. I told him I loved him, I knew he loved me, I didn’t want him to leave but he needed to do what was right for him. The next day I sat with him while they took out the breathing tubes and turned off the life support machine. I held his hand and watched his chest stop moving and his heart stop beating. I watched his life end. And at the same time I felt like mine had too. I still had no time for anyone but him. But there were many things that needed to be done. As soon as he was ready I sat with him again, and whispered in his ear and stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. I stayed until they had to take him away. It didn’t feel right leaving him with strangers. I don’t remember how many people I talked to and how many meetings I had. We saw police, corrections, funeral directors, and a lot of them became known on a first name basis. I saw both Jase and myself in the newspaper, on TV. It was surreal. Three weeks later it still is. Telling my kids that their Daddy was dead was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. After I saw Jase again at the funeral home he wasn’t the same. I still sat with him and stroked his hair and kissed his forehead and whispered in his ear every chance I got. There was a lot to do, arranging a hugely public funeral, discussing media arrangements, and waiting for American family. It was over a week when they finally put the lid on the casket. I felt like I wanted to be in there with him, I couldn’t believe I looked upon his face for the last time. And as soon as the lid was in place Abbey said, … “Daddy’s gone” It took a lot of restraint to not pull it off again. I was shaking through the entire funeral. How could this really be happening? At the crematorium it was quiet and personal. I kissed the coffin as they lowered it down and I cried. I don’t think I’ve cried so much in my life as I have over the last 3 weeks. Handing his ashes to his Mom at the airport was hard, a final farewell. I know that what is gone is only his vessel, but it’s still hard to let any part of him go. I have his heart and his soul and I feel him all around me. I see him when I look at our adorable children and I am so so thankful for them. It hasn’t become reality yet. I wake up in the night and am surprised when he isn’t there. I look out the window at 5.30pm expecting him to drive up home from work. His clothes are all still hanging in the closest and his shoes lined up on the floor. His toothbrush is still in the bathroom and his deodorant on his dresser. How do I move on from here? How do I continue to live when the person who I lived for is no longer around? I have to get up every morning and keep breathing. I have to be strong for our kids. I have to keep going. I have to live for Jase. Everyday gets harder, I have good hours and bad hours. I live one day at a time, sometimes one hour at a time. I will never forget my vows to you on our wedding day baby … or what we have engraved on our rings. alwaysforeverandeternity I love you now and until eternity. You will always hold the key to my heart xxxx

15 comments:

PaisleyJade said...

Some of what you have been through is so similar to what we experienced - yet losing your husband and best friend... I just can't imagine what that would be like.

Words don't seem enough at a time like this - all my love and prayers Tracy.

sandyh50 said...

I just came from the Fiskteers site and wanted to let you know that your advice about family is so true. I know that you are just taking one day at a time, probably one hour at a time! You are in my prayers. Hugs!!!

Your layouts are beautiful and the memories are precious. That is why we scrapbook.

Hobbyaholic (April) said...

I'm having a hard time holding the tears back. My heartaches for you. I cannot imagine what this must be like for you and your family.

I am praying for you. I know God will relieve your sorrow and in time help you remember the joy you shared with him. One day at a time.

April #5734

rosegarden - Laura Fiskateer 5939 said...

Tracy - you remain in my prayers, for strength, wisdom and peace. Best wishes to you and your family in your time of need.

Alisa said...

Ohhh Tracy you have me starting to cry with your words.
My heart jumped inside me when I seen the news on stuff, I recognised Jason and I just plain hurt for you guys. I am so so sorry for what you are going through and I send as much strength and love as I can.
He is never gone as he lives on in his children AND you.

Much love
Alisa

moloneyat said...

I cannot even imagine what you are still going through Tracy but I hope your children continue to be a source of joy for you and that time and the support of your family & friends will help each day get a little easier for you. Thinking of you, TracyM

Pinky said...

Tracy you are so amazing and this brings tears to my eyes. You amaze me and your story terrifies me, I stand here thinking what if...and you blow me away with your brutal honesty and courage. I don't know you but I love you. Thank you for sharing, not only for me but for everyone who has these losses. You are amazing.

kellyisascrapdiva said...

Tracy, you are an incredible woman. I cannot even begin to think about what this must be like for you. You are one courageous and beautiful humen being. Please know that my thoughts and prayers are with you today!

Robin Stewart said...

Oh wow, I am so sad to read this. One of my best friends lost her husband 2 years ago she also has 2 small children. She has found a great network of people through the web and blogging. her blog is www.littlechandlerfamily.blogsot.com and I know she would LOVE to chat with you. Your kids are so lucky that you have preserved the memories of life with their dad so well.

Hugs Robin fiskateer 6505

NatureLovinGirl said...

Tracy, I just read your post over on the fiskateer site and I'm so sad to hear about your husband. I hope you can have a happy halloween with great memories of your husband and maybe you and your kids will have a night remembering and laughing about the good times that you had. Sending good thoughts and hugs for you and your children,
Jennifer
fiskateer #6795

Louise Williams said...

I saw this on TV and didn't know at the time it was you. It's been a few months and I know it's most likely just as hard for you now as it was then but just wanted you to know you have a huge bunch of supporters ready to help when/however we can.

Callie said...

I've only come across your site for the first time tonight, while searching out interesting/inspiring NZ blogs... Now I sit here at 3.20am with tears rolling down my face and my throat burning after reading of this terrible loss you experienced. I can't imagine how I would cope if in this situation... I'm sorry for your loss and hope time has allowed life to be a little easier to deal with.

Lisa said...

<3

babbleandsnaps said...

Tears are rolling down my cheeks as I read this. It is very sad and very unfair. I am so sorry for your loss. Your husband sounded like a great man. And from your photos I can see he was also quite good looking. I understand why you swooned when he arrived in NZ ;-)

I remember hearing your story in the news and wondering how I would cope it if was me. I am not sure I could. After meeting you today I can see you are a brave and fantastic Mum and are doing an amazing job on your own. I admire you so, so much. It was such an inspiration to meet you today and I will now follow your blog with interest.

Ms Numbers said...

My thoughts are with you. Sometimes people forget, and move on, leaving you behind with your grief, that will never go away.
Jase sounds like a truly special man, and he was very lucky to have you in his life, just like he's still in yours.
xxx