Monday, May 31, 2010

Memorial Day

Dear Tommy,

Why is it so hard for me to remember my dreams with you in them? I never have a hard time remembering dreams. Last night I was dreaming about you until Avery woke me up. I tried so hard to remember the dream, but I couldn't. What I could remember was the feeling that I had during the dream. It was kind of peaceful. I think it's the way you may feel or at least the way I'd feel if you were here with me now. I went back to sleep hoping to see you again and I did. And part of this dream I did remember. You were standing there in your Camies and I was so happy. I also had that same feeling as in the other dream. In it someone from your Command told me that you were getting deployed right away to replace another injured Marine again. I cried out, "No! I just got him back! You can't take him from me!" He replied that it was only for a few months and he Promised me you would come home again. You said it would be ok and you had to go. I held you so tightly. I didn't want to let go, not ever, but with the promise that you would come home safe again-- I let go... I woke up thinking you were still alive, just deployed. And then as I became more oriented with what was going on, I realized that it was just a dream and there was no deployment, no chance to hold you again. I crumbled inside and out. I was glad to have a few minutes by myself before the kids woke up to compose myself.


Today was Memorial Day and this year it signified something much deeper to me and to all those who knew and loved you. It wasn't just "those men and women who lost their lives serving this great country" that we remembered, the unknown names and faces that we all are grateful for, but have no real connection to. This year, this day, was very different for us. This day 3 weeks ago is when you left this life after serving our country and struggling for so long. Today it was YOU, Tommy, that we all had on our minds. It was YOU that we honored and thanked for the ultimate sacrifice.
It was YOU that our hearts were aching for. It was YOU that we remembered and missed beyond words. It is YOU, Tommy who made this day more personal than any of us ever wanted it to be. You will always be remembered for the good, for the honor, for the love, for the sacrifice. We love you!


After I was told you died I eventually was able to make my way into our house and I sat in our new recliner only to camp out on it for most of the next week. It was only a day two after 'they' came to the door that I sat in that chair talking to the Chaplin, saying how I don't want to feel it; I don't want to deal with it at all. But I know that the only way for me to heal is to just sit in it; just sit in the pain and feel it for a while or I would never have the chance to heal. He said that if he just bottle up what I said and tell all the Marines that and make them understand then they would be better off. But you know, Tommy, I'm not doing that right now. I'm being just like most of the Marines he was talking about by pushing those feelings down-- so far down that I don't have to even think about them for parts of the day.
My cousin sent me something that says "Life is all about how you handle Plan B." In her note to me she wrote, "Plan A may not have worked out the way you expected, so it's on to Plan B. Good luck with Plan B." My thoughts on this? Well, if you must ask, I say thanks for wishing me 'good luck' because Lord knows I need it! I want to sit and have a tantrum like a 3 year old and say 'I do Not want a Plan B! Give me back Plan A!' I mean she is right, you know. I can not change the past. One of these days I WILL have to eventually accept the fact that you are not deployed. I will have to start living Plan B, but for now? For now I'd like to think I can sit somewhere in between Plans A & B. I am not ready to handle Plan B even if I'm now already living it.
There was a wife I knew from your first deployment that contacted me to send her and her husband's condolences when they found out about your death. She also sent me a link to another widow's blog. It's good to see what other (young) widows have to say. Just as I find writing therapeutic I also find reading very helpful, too. She had something on the saying "This too shall pass." And it reminded me of when you first deployed to Iraq in 2006. Katie L. came over one day soon after and gave me a card (which sang the chorus of "I will survive") and a plaque which said "This too shall pass, Now would be nice." After we moved here I realized that it broke in the box I had packed it in. Meaningful? Maybe, but probably not-- I just thought I'd add that part. The thing is I wish that 'this' would pass. I would love for the pain to pass; love for life to pass to be quite honest with you. I would love to wake up and have this nightmare of a life be completely over and happier days to be here yet again.

Loving you Always,

Sunday, May 30, 2010

A Couple of Things

Dear Tommy,

So a few days ago I was walked through your last hours with the people who were there that day. It was very emotional, and towards the end I had a hard time keeping myself composed, but I managed fairly well. One person, I'm sure you know who, said that there was this peace he felt as he made eye contact with you. I know it sounds crazy. It sounded that way to me too, but somehow him telling me that helped me in some way. I don't know how to explain it; he didn't even know how to explain it, but he said that I have an angel watching over me right now and it was his sincerity that made me feel like maybe he is right. It was hard to hear some of what they said. It made me frustrated and feel let down. It could have been prevented, Tom. They could have done things differently and you would not have died. I know I made the phone call and I will forever take responsibility for that, especially knowing that the care you were getting wasn't the care that was best for you. But there were other things that could have been done, yes, that day absolutely, but even before that day. Its disheartening really and now I have to find a way to keep living. Well, surviving is more like it.

Everyone keeps commenting on how strong I am. Is that one of those catch phrases that everyone feels obligated to say? "Your strong, you'll get through this." I am glad that there are a few people who are honest enough to tell me the truth-- it will Always hurt! Mostly the ones who are honest are the people who have lost someone close (either a child or a husband). I wish that people didn't think so highly of my capabilities to cope with this. They have no idea. I am NOT strong! I want to scream it from the highest building I can find. I. AM. NOT. STRONG! I am living in denial, pretending you are coming home. I would say if anything, that makes me weak. I cannot deal with the pain. I cannot deal with the guilt. Normally I wear my heart on my sleeve, but not this time. This time I am keeping it bottled up. Yes, sometimes I break down and cry in front of people, but they don't see the full effect. I can't allow that. I'm trying, Tom. I'm trying to do this for you, for our kids, but right now I wish I a delete button. Just one do-over is all I ask for and this would be the time I use it. I'm living in la-la land on that one, but I still have hope for a time machine, lol.

The kids are doing alright, I guess. Nathan has been at the neighbor's house a lot. Avery has now started to ask to go there, too. She got a tricycle and he put it together for her and he put Nathan's T-ball set together, too. But, oh boy would you have been MAD at Nathan! He took a pen and colored on the wall AND our new recliner! He does NOT want to listen to me (no it's worse than before). He tries to tell Avery what to do and she in turn tells him what to do. It's too funny when she does it. She's a little Mommy, pointing her finger and saying, "Stop it Nathan!" It's good that they have each other. I hope they stay close as the grow up. It's great to watch them do fun and silly things, like Avery pushing Nathan on her pink tricycle. I was watching them yesterday and it was one of those moments that I wanted to call to you and say, "Come look at the kids." Then we'd laugh At them together (But they would think we were laughing With them!) It's moments like this that I have a hard time getting through. I can't just call to you or call you on the phone or send you an email or text with a picture. I can't do any of those things. I can't tell you all the funny stories about our beautiful children and you can't watch them grow up with me. I will never forget what you said to me 3 weeks ago tonight. I knew Tom, I knew how serious it was. And you were wrong Tom, you were so wrong.

Miss you & Love you,

My RING & Friday Night

Dear Tommy,

Well, as you know I had lost some weight and my wedding ring kept coming off. I went to get it sized the week before you died, but they said it would take 2 weeks. For some reason I couldn't part with it for 2 weeks and I'm so glad I didn't. I lost a little more weight after I found out about you. I was so terrified that now I really would lose it somewhere, so on our Anniversary I took it off and put it on my necklace right where yours is.
Friday night I went out with Jena and stopped by Kay's to get a ring guard. It's a little obvious and not cute because it's yellow gold. Well, while I was there I asked to see the diamond that you had bought me back in December-- the one I never got when we got married and always teased you about. ;) Wow, wasn't that a disaster from Nathan spoiling the surprise to me telling you to return it? I know, I know I could kick myself for that now. Not like you gave it to me in any special way (thanks Nathan, haha). My biggest reason for that was because I didn't think we could afford it. I wish I had kept it. I asked the lady working there if it would be strange for me to buy it now. She said no, she thought it was sweet. Jena walked in the store at that point and I asked her and she said I should. We were both holding back tears. I am not sure if I should get it-- how you'd feel about it, but I think I really want to.

So later we went to this bar called The Hideaway. I didn't know about it, not like I would or would have ever chosen to go there since I never really went out before. It was ok, I guess. I was doing "good" until I heard "Here Without You" by 3 Doors Down. I had to walk outside and I started to really cry. It was one of the songs you put on the CD you made for me before Afghanistan and obviously the words are fitting. Well, there was this woman, obviously inebriated, talking to Jena (who was sitting next to me) saying "I'll kick his ass, whoever he is for making her cry like that." Jena replied with "You can't." She felt so bad after I told her why I was crying and said she'd pray for me. I can hear you say in your sarcastic voice "Aw, isn't that nice." But really it is Tom. I have lots of people praying for me and the kids. And we Need those prayers because I sure as heck am not praying right now. I have no desire to pray. Do I still believe in the Lord as my Savior? Yes. Do I feel betrayed and abandoned right now? Yes. Do I want Anything to do with God? NO! But I'm thankful for those who care enough to pray.

So I talked to a new friend/ old acquaintance who is also a "Military Widow" and she warned me to be careful because there will be Marines crawling all over me if they know who I am... and boy was she Right! I was very surprised, Tom. I'm sure THAT doesn't surprise you! BUT I really am starting to not be so naive. I'm not surprised I got hit on, but that this guy did it even after he saw my total breakdown about my husband who died nearly 3 weeks ago! Wow, Tom, maybe I should take the advice about getting out of here. I feel that there are some things I need to do first, though. Maybe next year? I'm not sure yet. Time will tell what I should be doing... Should be doing? What I 'SHOULD' be doing is living my life With You! That is what I 'Should' be doing.

Love always,

Friday, May 28, 2010

Dear President Obama

Dear President Obama,

I am sitting here one day after learning that you will be spending Memorial Day in Chicago on vacation instead of in Washington, DC to lay the traditional wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and I hoped that my feelings of anger would have subsided, however, they have not. I am appalled at your decision and feel it not only a slap in the face to our great country and all our military service members, but also, to me personally. You see President Obama, my husband died for this country exactly three weeks before Memorial Day as he scummed to his invisible wounds produced by the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

President Obama, I do not believe that anyone should dictate when you spend time on vacation with your family as you spend countless hours working hard doing the job of our Commander-in-Chief. However, I do believe there are two days that without a doubt you should spend at our nation's Capital. The first is July Fourth and the second is Memorial Day. Putting all political views and party lines aside, I would feel any President who so disrespectfully declines to honor our fallen on the one day our nation comes together to recognize their sacrifice has no patriotism.

I find it deplorable that you would choose this day to be on vacation. You see, President Obama, your first priority and obligation is to our country. This is one of the first lessons I learned five years ago when I became a Marine wife. When you choose a job of great service to our great country you must put that country first. I know personally how your family misses you and does not get to spend enough time with you. Everyone needs that vacation and time with their family, I do not disagree with this fact. However, President Obama, so many lives have been lost defending this country, our freedoms, and everything it stands for. There is one day in which we gather to honor and respect the sacrifice they and their families have made. It bothers me deeply that you can not give one day of your time to show this to them-- to us.

Katie Bagosy

p.s. In case I didn't make myself clear: You can take a vacation with your family any time you want. My children and I will Never again be able to take a vacation with the man we loved so dearly-- a father and husband who's life was sacrificed for our Nation. His life and all other Veterans should be Remembered and Honored by you this Memorial Day, not disregarded.
Mr. Obama, it makes me sick that YOU are the President and leader of this wonderful country when you have no regard, respect, honor, or gratitude to the men and women who allow You to run our nation. They sacrificed their lives for you, me, and everyone else. Remember that!

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

I Survived

Dear Tommy,

Well, I survived yesterday fairly unscathed. It was the first in a long line of firsts to get through. Next will be your birthday. Last year you were deployed for it and we got you a cake to celebrate anyway, so maybe we'll do that again this year. I still have some time to figure that out and there is still more to deal with before then. As for yesterday, it was wonderful to see all the love and support from so many women from church taking us out to lunch. It was a great distraction and Nathan had a blast, too. One of the ladies bought me flowers. Then Jena and I went out last night because I was trying to stay out of the house as much as possible. Jena bought me roses and I brought one into the restaurant with me. It was just sitting on my purse and out of no where it rolled off. I would like to think it was you maybe saying hello or I love you on our Anniversary.

I knew that the nights would be the hardest, but the Chaplin told me the mornings would be. Now I can say they are equally as difficult. For obvious reasons the nights are hard; you are not there to cuddle with or talk to or watch movies with (or help keep Nathan in his room for that matter). The mornings are hard because I don't have you to wake up and make sure you get up for work. I wake up and think "Why bother even getting out of bed?" I don't see you there, I don't get my morning hug or kiss. I don't get to ask "Will you be home for lunch?" Because I know you won't be, not today, not any day. I wake up thinking "How am I going to find the strength to make it through this day?" I don't care about anything without you here. I just Don't care!

Nathan has been such a good big brother to Avery lately. He has really grown up and is like a little man. It's kind of sad, but nice to see him wanting to take care of her. He gave me some change from his piggy bank and said "This is to buy Avery's bike." So, I thought since I was buying her a bike I should get him something special, too. I bought him some little Camies today on base and now he's been playing Marine since we got home. He found some boot socks and a belt in his closet and went in the garage to get a pair of your boots. He's so proud "to be a Marine like Daddy." It's so cute and I wish you were here to see it, too.

I was crying a little while ago and Nathan asked if I was still sad about Daddy. I said yes with which he replied "I'm not sad because I already know he's dead, but you don't know that yet." First of all, he IS devastated, but doesn't want to cry with me. He tells me to stop because it makes him sad. Second, you know I think he's right. I think I really am in "deployment mode" and really think you are coming home. Tommy, when I really allow myself to Feel it, to accept that you are gone forever gets too overwhelming. I don't know how to do this in the long run, not alone, not without you. I can do 7 months. I've done it 3 times since we got married. We spent numerous other nights, days, and weeks apart for everything from duty to trainings. I can do that. It honestly sucks, but I'm used to that-- a few days here and few weeks there. I hate deployments, HATE them! But I can do them. What I Can't do is forever. I can't do forever without you. I don't want to and I don't know how to. Part of me is missing and I can't get it back. It didn't have to be this way and I can't accept it's real. I wish I knew how long it would be until we were together again because that is the day I look forward to. I lost any and all sense of fear the night I found out you were gone. I don't fear life and I sure don't fear death.

Do you remember a few weeks ago we watched WhiteOut and for some reason afterwards when we went up to bed I just started to break down crying? I told you that I had this HORRIBLE feeling that I was going to make the wrong decision on something, but I had no clue what. I said 'If something bad happens and I make the wrong decision on something and someone gets hurt, I need you to know that I'm sorry. I'm SO sorry.' I couldn't explain it, but you held me and said "It's ok." But Tommy, it's not ok! It's really and truly NOT ok and it never will be again. I don't know how I am going to get through this. I pretend I'm ok with other people around. They all say I'm "Strong," but they have NO idea what this is doing to me inside. I'm sorry, Tommy. I love you and miss you always.

Love you,

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

"Happy" Anniversary

Dear Tommy,

"Happy" Anniversary, Tommy. This is not how I planned, hoped, or wanted to spend our 5th Anniversary. This year we were supposed to go all out for our anniversary and start really looking ahead because things were supposed to be good now. Obviously that is not the case. Last year we were at the zoo with the kids. That was fun. Remember the "Hoe-tell"! Nathan was talking about that the other day. It made me smile. But this year we were supposed to go away just the two of us.

They say that holidays, birthdays, anniversaries (wedding, date you died), will all be the hardest in the first year. This is the first of those days and I have the distinct feeling that it'll be a long one!

Some of the wonderful women from church know that today will be a very difficult day, so they decided that we'll all go out to lunch so I don't have to be alone at home. So, guess where we're going? Fuddruckers! lol. I have never been there before as you know, but I can't help but think of our favorite movie to watch together. I remember the first time we saw it; you loved it and I hated it! "Idiocracy" is such a fitting name for that movie, but each time we saw it I liked it more and more until it became our own 'cult classic.'

Wow, Tom, you and I have SO many inside jokes and funny lines that I don't even know if I can count that high, but there must be at least 7 just from that movie alone! (And what about Grandma's Boy? Oh I can't wait to get your phone back!) I said at your funeral how funny you are and how now I have no one to laugh with. I mean there is no one on this planet besides you that I could be in the middle of a conversation with and one of us busts out with "Blah blah blah... you gotta believe me" and have the other person falling to the ground laughing. Even those who have seen the movie wouldn't get "it." Not like we did, because it was ours. We made it our own.

We've done a lot of laughing lately and I'm so sad that you're not here to laugh with me anymore. I can't laugh now-- at least not like I used to. And not unless I'm using "widow humor" which apparently there are 'rules' for it, too. I mean yes, right now I get to play the 'widow card,' but people who aren't widows (or who aren't at that point yet) wouldn't find it appropriate. You know me, I jumped on that one by day 3. I was sitting in Verizon with Jena and made a bad joke which I followed up with "Too soon?" That's me. The tragic things are the ones I make jokes about because otherwise I'm on the floor crying the whole darn day. I just don't really handle grief well. I never have and honestly, I haven't had much experience with it. Wow, what a way to be introduced to tragedy, loss, and pain!

Yesterday was 2 weeks since you died. I went to NCIS for my official statement and the Special Agent was running late. While I was there someone walked in who had been there that day. As he started talking (not to me) and my body started shaking. It was as if I was hearing the news for the first time all over again. He was one of the people who tried to save you, but it couldn't be done. I had to identify the gun, too. It was hard, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I thought I'd end up on the floor, but while I was upset I disconnected myself from it and just found myself with this huge desire to hold it. Obviously it's part of evidence and I couldn't, but I really wanted to. Somehow I felt that if I could hold it I could understand better what happened in those last minutes and feel what you were feeling. I could understand better where you were at that point.

Tommy, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you were put in that situation. I'm sorry you were hurting so much. I'm sorry for everything. I pray you are at peace in heaven in the arms of God and that today on our Anniversary you can say that you are Happy. I miss you and I love you. I know you felt the same. I keep thinking about when you called me in the car to say "I love you" and goodbye. I don't know if you were on the phone long enough to hear me say it back, but I hope so. I hope you heard it one last time.

Love you always,

Monday, May 24, 2010

Music Makes Me Think

Dear Tommy,

I've been listening to a lot of music that reminds me of you and I just think back to all the things that made those songs memorable. I'm listening to Cyndi Thomson right now. That CD is still working after 9 years! It's amazing, lol. I remember laying in your arms on the couch in your basement "forcing" you to watch CMT with me! You hated it, but did it anyway. Now that's love! ;) I was obsessed with her music when she first came out and some of her songs really rang true for me at different times.

Now I just think back to when we were first dating and how I'd stay at your house as long as possible before driving back to college. You'd call me first thing on the days you cut school and any chance I could I'd cut class and come see you. I know how much your parents tried to get you to go to school and I'd half-heartedly tell you the same, but I'd love those early morning phone calls "I'm at home. Come see me." Yes, me the older college student corrupting the young high school senior, haha! Not really, but I'm sure I could have done a better job convincing you to go to school. I would have stayed at La Salle if it wasn't for you. It was only an hour drive, but I wanted so desperately to be closer to you.

I felt so safe in your arms. You've always felt like HOME. We'd just be there together for hours not needing to talk much because it was the unspoken that said the most-- your touch, your kiss, the look in your eyes telling me that I was the only one and no one else compared. You told me some amazing things, too and I always said you should write a book of lines for guys to use because you made me feel like I was the only girl in the world that ever felt that special. Oh, but the look, Tommy, was what melted my heart and captured me forever. You Still had that look for me and it's burned into my soul. No one can take that from me and I'll hold onto it forever. You know it's that look, that feeling of 'home' that I'll miss the most. That incredible love that was always there deep in our souls.

No one could ever make me feel that way again, Tommy. And really, I agree with my new "widow friend" that I wouldn't want that. You are so special and I don't want to know that with anyone else. She's been a widow for 6 years and at least she's honest and says that it'll always hurt and it won't go away. Her husband was a Marine, too. So it's a little different in that way where we can relate to this life that others can not understand. She spent 2 1/2 hours one night talking to me which was a great help. They were high school sweethearts and and had some of the same experiences after war that we did. I don't wish this pain on anyone, but it's nice to have someone understand where I am at and not pity me or even judge me or ask the same dreaded questions all the time.

Don't get me wrong am I SO, SO thankful for everyone's support, but with Andrea I can sit there and say how I really feel and she knows exactly what I'm talking about. I feel like I have to either lie to everyone else and say I'm OK or fine. Because when I tell the truth as to how I'm feeling, well, I feel bad and I think I make them uncomfortable. I guess it's one of those situations that no one knows how to handle or what to say and people walk on egg shells. I just know that if they weren't there helping me through this, well, I may not be writing this right now. Well, I miss you, but I'm sure you know that. I'm going to bed hoping that I'll see you in my dreams.

Love your wife,

Sunday, May 23, 2010


Dear Tommy,

Oh, Tommy, I want to go back in time. I want to do something different, anything different. I remember watching "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" with you recently and there was a scene where the girl got hit by a car and it ruined her professional dancing career. I remember how Brad Pitt was explaining the events that led up to her getting hit and how if any ONE of those things had been different she would not have been hit; she'd still be able to dance. I keep thinking of the million things that led up to your death and how if I could go back and change any ONE of those things you'd still be here, but I can't and that's a hard pill to swallow.
We'd be getting ready to celebrate 5 years of marriage. Five years, Tommy! I remember how your Command didn't want to give you leave to come get married. They thought we wouldn't make it even a year because we were so young and we didn't have a long engagement-- if you want to call it an engagement, lol. Oh man, do you remember how it rained? I thought that was supposed to be a sign of good luck. I guess we shouldn't buy into things like that. I'm sure it's just said to make the bride feel better anyway.
I always felt that if we made it to 5 years then everything would be ok and we'd make it forever. I'm feeling kind of mad tonight. I asked you to wait, Tom. I asked you to wait until after our anniversary and you didn't. I was trying to buy us some time. I needed more time to figure out what to do, how to fix this. I wanted to celebrate 5 years of marriage with you. I was thinking today about how this town is inundated with divorce. Almost every friend I've had down here has gotten a divorce. Some of those surprised me because I felt they gave up over some things that weren't divorce worthy. You and I on the other hand were the ones I thought would have done it by now. We have been through so much and were close at a point, but we never did. We could never go through with it. Our love for each other was too strong.
I remember us saying one time how it would be pointless since we knew we'd end up back together again someday anyway. We knew that life without the other would never be as good as life together. Life together, Tommy, until death do us part. Remember those vows? Well, I guess you sure kept that one *thanks.* Death was supposed to be when we were old and had watched our grand kids grow up, not when we were in our 20s, and definitely Not like this!
I'm sorry Tommy, that my love for you couldn't save you. I know that the things torturing you were far to great and you needed something bigger than I was prepared to handle. I'm sorry for everything as I'm sure you'd be saying to me right now, too. We were so close, Tommy, so incredibly close to everything being fixed. I think that is part of what is so hard. The fact that things were on the cusp of being "all better." I feel numb right now, angry, but numb. The sadness is a constant, but right now I'm burying it. You and I were connected on a different level and I know that I will never have that with another person and really I wouldn't want it. I just want you, but I can't have you anymore. It wasn't supposed to end like this.
I wonder if you "knew." I kept asking for us to make solid plans for our anniversary, but you kept saying "Let's just wait." Normally you'd at least pick a place or talk about it, but you didn't this time. I could feel you slipping away. I just didn't think it would really happen. I thought I had more time to figure it all out. I didn't and I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry We failed you. I don't deserve forgiveness and while I'll never forgive myself I pray that you forgive me. I wish I could go back in time, but I can't. I can wish all I want, but it won't change anything. I'm here and you are not and I hurt. I miss you and I love you. I fell in love when I was 18. I never stopped loving you, not for one minute and I never will.

Love your Wife,

Thursday, May 20, 2010

My First Blog

I've thought about blogging before, many times actually. I love to write because I find it extremely therapeutic. I make bad jokes at the wrong times because I would rather laugh than cry. I'm an open book with nothing to hide. That is one trait that drove my husband up a wall! He was a very private person, so for him to know I was blogging because of and about him may not make him too happy, but I hope he'd realize that this is one way for me to start to heal.

My husband was a Marine. I hate using the past tense to talk about him. Right now I should be kissing my husband goodbye as he goes to work knowing that in a few hours he'll be home and I can give him a hug as he walks in the door in his camies. That won't happen now, not ever. Tom, my husband, the man I have loved for the past 9 years, is dead. I am still in the denial stage. He died Monday May 10, 2010. He took his own life aboard Camp Lejeune.

That day, that horrible, horrible day was supposed to be the day he Finally got the real help that he had been so desperately seeking. I thought he was ok. I was told he was ok. I was told that because I told them he had a gun I saved his life. I didn't save his life. I killed him. Yes, everyone says "It's not your fault. There is nothing you could have done. You were trying to help him." But no matter what anyone says that is how I feel. I will always feel responsible for how his life ended. I got off the phone and the words that she used didn't sit right with me. "The MP's secured him and he is on the way to the hospital." How did they secure him? Was he hurt? I know she said he was alive and ok, but maybe somewhere deep down I knew. She didn't know, not then. She thought he was ok, I did too for a little while.

3:45PM: An unmarked car pulled up to my house. I went outside and he had the wrong address. I came back in and broke down crying. I thanked God because for a moment I thought it was Tom. I thought he was here with bad news, but he wasn't. He was ok (again), or so I thought. Not even 15 minutes later, a knock at my door. I opened it and knew. You never open the door to anyone in their uniform unless they have the worst news ever. I stepped outside and closed the door behind me as my children were inside. I asked if he was dead. They needed to verify who I was. For some reason they had my maiden name. I corrected them and as I said "It's Bagosy" I fell to the ground before he could even get the words out "We regret to inform you..." It was all I heard as I hit the ground. My neighbors all rushed over and took care of the kids. How? How did it happen? I was told he was alive and safe! How did it all go wrong? Eventually I got my answers, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter because he was gone.

I found out at 4PM that my husband had died-- that my life was over, at least in the sense that nothing would ever be the same. This wasn't something that could be fixed. It wasn't something that an apology would make up for. It wasn't another ridiculous fight that got out of hand and in a few hours it would be as if nothing bad happened. This was real. This IS real, but I have yet to accept it. How do I do that? How do really truly accept that I am a WIDOW and a single mom?

I try to make it real in my mind. I try to sit there and tell myself 'He's NOT coming back. This is NOT another deployment. He's NOT in the field or on duty or anything else. He IS Dead. Forever. There is no turning back.' But I can't. I stop myself because the pain is to great; it's too real. Living in denial is better. I cry and cry, but I can stop myself after a while. I'm terrified of the day that it truly hits me and I can no longer pretend. The tears will flow and I don't know if they'll ever stop.

May 15, 2010 was his funeral back in DE. It was easier being there, even on that day. I'm back home in NC and it's hard-- It's Hard! It hurts more. I can't pretend here as well. I look around and EVERYTHING reminds me of him. I'm waiting right now, waiting for the day for it to totally sink in, to become real. I fear that day, but it's coming and when it does... well I don't have a clue as what to expect. No one knows truly how this feels or how to handle it until it's here, and it's here. That's why I'm blogging, so that I can have a place to put my pain. It's a journey I don't want to be on, but I have no choice. I have to learn this life day by day. There are so many things I want to tell Tom, I want to share, I want him to know. This is my place for him-- for me to tell him.