Posts Tagged "fatherless children"

God Inflicts Anger

»Posted on Nov 25, 2009 in BLOG, Coping With Loss, Death Of Spouse, DROP DEAD LIFE, Sudden Death | 0 comments

I walk out of the closet, my arms full of Erik’s shirts, all still on hangers. My 8-month-pregnant belly acts as a shelf, enabling me to carry more. “I hope you’re alright with this,” I say to my brother, Troy. “That you don’t think it’s weird I’m giving you Erik’s stuff.” I pile the shirts on top of my bed, the white plastic hangers clinking together like falling dominoes. “No, I don’t think it’s weird, as long as you’re fine, as long as you feel ready,” Troy holds up a navy blue button-down. “This one will definitely fit.” “Erik would be really happy you had these, I’m sure of it.” It hasn’t even been three weeks since the blood trickled down the side of my husband’s mouth...

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Pregnant Widow Shutting Down

»Posted on Oct 15, 2009 in BLOG, Coping With Loss, Death Of Spouse, DROP DEAD LIFE | 0 comments

Tatiana clings to me, her legs wrapped beneath my 9-month pregnant belly, while the other Marin Day School toddlers push balls, rakes, miniature vacuums, and each other around in the outdoor play area of the preschool. Primary colored toys are scattered everywhere—many of which Erik had cleaned only two months before, when he donated his time to Tatiana’s school to make some “minor repairs.” Erik was supposed to fix a couple of loose locks over a weekend, but the teachers returned to a new garden of potted flowers, re-stained benches and sandbox, and a large rainbow play-structure that had been flipped and scrubbed from bottom to top. When he walked through the metal gate to bring Tatiana there the next day, the entire staff gave him a standing...

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11-Year-Old Boy Tries to Save his Father

»Posted on Oct 12, 2009 in BLOG, DROP DEAD LIFE, Parenting & Loss, Sudden Death | 0 comments

Erik told me about his dad, Hayden, when we first started dating. We were both 20, both students at Florida State University. Erik majored in computer science while I studied creative writing. Within days of knowing one another, it was obvious that Erik’s rational, organized side would compliment the artist in me. Erik spoke slowly, with quiet intensity. “We were on vacation.” I sat cross-legged, on Erik’s bedroom floor, soaking in the masculine whisper of his words. My attention was focused entirely on him. He stretched out on his back and put his head in my lap, his eyes directed at the circulating ceiling fan. “We were on vacation, at the beach . . . I was eleven. It was just me, my mom, and my dad. My dad had brought me out...

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Father and Son’s Ashes Scattered Together

»Posted on Sep 29, 2009 in BLOG, Coping With Loss, DROP DEAD LIFE, Parenting & Loss | 0 comments

I give Troy the burgundy velvet bag that contains Erik’s ashes. “Do you mind holding them? I may need to run down to the beach by myself.” “I’ll put them in my back pack.” Troy rests the gray sack by his feet and slides the ashes in. He starts to zip up the backpack, but pauses. “Jeanette, I might be able to fit yours in, too.” Jeanette hugs her pine box closer to her chest. “No, I want to hold him. Hayden’s fine right here.” My mother-in-law, Jeanette, has held on to her husband’s ashes for 17 years now. When we talked about scattering Erik’s ashes, she said, “We’ll scatter them together. It’s never felt right to do it before, but it feels right now. Erik can be with his daddy. They can...

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Birth of a Fatherless Child

»Posted on Sep 17, 2009 in BLOG, Death Of Spouse, DROP DEAD LIFE, Parenting & Loss | 0 comments

My body is as still as a corpse while my obstetrician shaves the rest of my pubic hair, so that she can neatly slice my womb open. I stare at my right hand, into the dark eyes of the black and white photograph I am holding of my husband, Erik. I study his black hair, his defined jaw, his young 29-year-old skin, probing his face for answers, but the picture has no reply. He should be here. How can he not be here for Keira’s birth? Instead, my mom positions herself to the right of the steel operating table, a piece of her curly black hair straying from her cap. Mom speaks in a whisper. “I am going to be next to you the whole time.” She lightly intertwines her fingers with mine, leaving enough space for Erik’s photograph. I strain my neck...

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