5 months later...

It’s been almost 4 months since my last post. I've had a lot of people ask me to continue writing about the goings on of our family- especially people who aren't Facebook. For those of you who have been asking, I’m sorry it has taken me this long. Things have been really busy- managing both Bill and my grandmother’s affairs, (I was her executor just just before Bill was diagnosed the second time), working, taking care of the kids, etc... I can't really put into words all of the things we have been processing over the last 5 months. The girls and I miss Bill every second of the day. Each one of us in our own way. Every once in a while Zoey will still ask if we can go to Target and “buy a new Daddy-“ which was a question that was really,  really hard for me at first because what she is really asking (and has been since just after he passed away) is, “Mama, how can we get Daddy back?” Her 4 year old understanding of how life works is that if something is broken or gone, we can just go to Target and replace it. To be honest, every time she asked the question in the beginning, it was like a knife in my heart. Because as an adult I know full well that there is no way to replace Bill. Ever.

Over time, that specific question has been replaced with her fleeting memories of Bill. Things like, “Remember when Daddy and I shared his pizza?”   Or on July 4th, “Mama, I remember how Daddy kept me safe last year during the fireworks.” These are the memories of Bill I want to foster- the ones where he protected her and loved her. Because that’s who Bill was. A fiercely protective and loving father.

I think because Kaleigh had more time with him, she will always know this about him. We often talk about how hard he fought to be able to stay here and be with us. She knows he did everything in his power to be here. Frequently throughout the day she will tell me how much she misses him, and I will tell her I feel the same way. I think she gets a sense of security from knowing she isn't the “only one”. She will often say “Mama, I hope it doesn't hurt your feelings, but you know Daddy is my favorite.”
And I always reassure her that I understand because he is my favorite too. It’s so hard to navigate this part because she and Bill were two peas in a pod. She is so incredibly like him that I often don’t know if I am capable of filling that void. (Which- let’s be honest- there is no way I can really do that anyway. I can do the best I can, but I'm never going to be able to compensate for losing her daddy- her favorite person.)

And then there is precious Leah. Our sweet middle child. She has had such a hard time over the last two years. She is the one I worry about the most. Vague memories of her daddy who loved her so, but also a life filled with uncertainty (When is daddy coming home? When will mama have to go back to Boston?) She has always been our introspective child. Rarely willing to share what's on her mind- especially when it comes to Bill. When she does, I make sure to pay attention. The other day she was feeling really sick and she said, I really wish daddy was here to hold my hand. It broke my heart. She knows-even though she rarely expresses it- that Daddy would try to make her feel better. That he loved her and that he would be there for her if he could.

You might be asking yourself why after almost 5 months of “blog silence” I have decided to start writing again. There are many reasons like the encouragement from people who have asked me to start again, for myself so I can share stories of our family, and I think most importantly for the girls later on down the road -to give them a way to remember this part of our story. I was looking back at all of the texts Bill and I sent back and forth to each other, and in most of them, he called the girls “sweet peas,” so I thought it would be a good  title.

Over the last few months I have tried to sit down and do this, but today seems a fitting day to begin this next part of “my journey.” You see, today is our anniversary. 14 years ago Bill and I made vows to each other to love and cherish one another for the rest of our lives. It was a day I could not wait for. It was the day that signified the beginning of my new life with the man who I loved more than any other person on the planet. The man who made me laugh like no other. The man who intentionally pushed my buttons until I thought I would go mad- which made me love him all the more. The man
who I wanted to have my family with. The man who I wanted to grow old with.

Today is the day that we promised to stand by one another in sickness and in health. Something that we came to understand more deeply than we ever anticipated. Our lives were taken down a road that I will never understand. But one thing I will know for sure  is that being Bill Plowden’s wife, and being able to love him through his illness will always be the greatest honor of my life. He and our precious children are the greatest gifts I could ever be given.

For those of you on Facebook, you know I am out in Arizona with one of my childhood friends. I started thinking about this day, and I realized that for so much of the past two years I had to choose between being “wife” and “mother.” Most of the time Bill insisted that I be “mom” so that the girls would have more stability. I wouldn't change the decisions we made, but one of my biggest regrets is that I couldn't be with him when he died. I wanted to be there and hold his hand. I wanted him to feel my hands and kisses. I wanted him to hear my voice in his ear telling him I loved him- not just th rough the phone.

As I thought about today, I decided that I wanted to be “wife”. I wanted to do something that would honor the life that Bill and I had planned. He was born here in Arizona and we had always said we would come out here to the Grand Canyon. So here I am with a friend who I've known since I was 3- a friend who Bill always said “grounded me.” We are hiking, and laughing, and crying, and singing, and spending time reflecting on the life Bill and I had made together. On the life we thought we were supposed to have together. We are also doing things I never thought I’d do like riding in a hot air balloon in Sedona- trying to make new memories.

My hope is that this trip will give me the break that I have needed to try to start processing things without the distraction of every day life. I still have about a hundred moments throughout the day when I think “I can't wait to tell Bill.” And then I remember. I think I’ll i want to tell Bill.  And I think that's ok. I’m hoping that over time the emptiness that I constantly feel will change into something else- I'm not sure what yet, but I know that Bill wanted me (and our girls) to have full lives, and I am endeavoring to do that.

I have so many other things to say about what's been going on, but I want to end for now with thanking you all for all of the prayers, love, and support you've shown us over the past two years. And especially thanking my aunt and uncle for taking the girls this week so I can be here, and thanking Carmen and her husband for rearranging their schedules to make this week happen for me. You guys are amazing.

Happy anniversary Babe, I love you.