Dear Tommy,
Well, Thomas-- Oh yeah I just called you Thomas! I am a bit frustrated today. I'm sure you know this since last night was a little... um... out of control. I was about to lose it and asked you, well, no scratch that. I TOLD you that you better find a way to get someone here and help me because I just couldn't do it and not even 20 minutes later (just as I saw Avery and the carpet covered in paint) the door bell rings and it's Jena. I was about to flip out on whoever was there to solicit cookies, donations, or Kirby vacuums (again), but thank God that it was Jena and I immediately calmed down knowing that everything would be ok. Well, it's not all ok since Nathan is so out of hand and I'm not sure how to deal with him, but for the moment I kept the little sanity that I still have left. I'm getting angry at you more and not feeling As Much guilt about the anger when things like this happen. I have no control and the whole "Wait until Daddy gets home" doesn't work, and neither does "Daddy would be so (insert: angry, upset, disappointed, etc.) at you and we don't want that so let's behave" isn't working either. Something's gotta give here, Tom and I'm not sure what, but I sure hope you help me out like you did last night.
Ok, so I mentioned before that I was thinking about buying the diamond that you had gotten for me back in December. Well, I ended up buying it and getting it sized, so I just went today to get it. First of all, I tried it on and it looks great ;) but I had to put it on my necklace with your wedding ring because it seems so strange to actually wear it. I want to and maybe I will, but probably not everyday. I also can't wear both the diamond and my wedding band and that one seems more fitting to have on.
Second, about this trip to Kay's is that as I walked into the mall I saw a sign at another jewelry store with a picture of a diamond and the words "Buy 2 Get 1 Free" and I started to laugh! All I could think about was Big Love. I mean really who buys 3 diamond rings unless you're a polygamist? I just thought it was funny since when you died we had just started renting Season 2. There are several shows that remind me of you and happy times and Big Love is one of them since we used to have HBO and watched Season 1 when it first was on. By the time the 2nd season was on we didn't have HBO anymore. We only got to watch the first 3 episodes of it and now I have the next 6 just sitting here. I have tried on several occasions to watch them, but it's always something, mostly it's that I don't want to cry watching it, but I think I will tonight. I was busy today and haven't even had time to think and get my tears out. I'm sure they are coming since I can feel them now.
I remember watching the first Big Love DVD that Blockbuster sent us and... ok side note really quick... I just realized that this blog post sounds like an ad for promoting all these things, but it's not... ok sorry I do tend to get side tracked (you would think I have ADD or something, but I don't).
SO anyway... I remember asking you which of the 3 wives I am most like and You replied with (and I quote) "I could say all 3 equally. You're smart and college like, like the 1st one; devious and scary like the 2nd one; and fun and dumb like the 3rd one." I laughed so hard at that and told you that is why you don't need more than one wife because you have it all rolled into one. And you told me how one is more than enough. We laughed so hard about it all. Ok, maybe I laughed a little harder than you did. It was just a very funny interchange between us. I wrote it down back then because I wanted to remember and I'm glad I did because I can't ask you again if I had forgotten what you said. I mentioned that the 2nd two could be taken in a negative way, but that's not how you meant it-- ok maybe the devious and scary part, but that's just because I would be sneaky when I wanted answers and wasn't getting them from you. And as for the 'dumb' part you meant ditzy and naive (which I suppose I feel I have to clarify for those reading this that they don't think you were putting me down because we know you weren't... right? Just kidding. I know it). Tom, we were supposed to be watching these together. I seems incomplete without you here. I mean that on the grand scale and on the little details in life. I want to watch every episode and I'm sure I will, but I'm going to be thinking of you the whole time and wondering what conversations we would have about it all. I hope that you will sit there beside me and watch along even if I can't feel you next to me.
Oh, Tommy, where are you? What are doing right now? What do you want me to be doing right now? How can I get through this and If I can get through it what would you want me to be doing with my life and with the kids? How do I accomplish any of those things without you here? You were so much better at all of that stuff. I know I wasn't telling you enough that you were such a good Dad, but honestly, Tommy after Afghanistan you really were. You were a really good husband, too. I just wish I could have let go of certain things and focused on the great job you were doing now, Or should I say "doing then." I know that it may not have made enough difference to keep you here-- you told me several times to stop thinking the world revolved around me and "this" had nothing to do with me, but I can't help but think maybe I could have made a difference. At the very least you would have known better how I felt. I pray that you know now and it brings you some sort of comfort wherever you are... Ok, well, those tears are flowing.
Tommy, I love you and miss you forever. Thank you for all the greatness that you did bring to my life that I never thanked you for before. There was a lot of hurt and pain, but I'm sorry I didn't thank you for the good things enough.
Love, your wife,
Katie
Showing posts with label husband. Show all posts
Showing posts with label husband. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
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.
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.
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