Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Widowed at 41

On Tuesday, May 19th, I came home from work and found my 37-yr-old husband dead.

Let that sink in. Really, let it sink in.

The initial shock and trauma have passed. The memorial service was beautiful and arranged to a T as Kelly had requested. His parents have now become part of the group of bereaved parents that I never wanted to be in. I am a widow at 41. My child is fatherless at 2.

In the past 8 days, I have seen sides of people that are surprising, shocking even, to me. My friends have been amazing, as they always are. Three core members of my posse dropped everything and came to my side the night I found him. They stayed with me for hours as my house was combed by police and my husband taken from here for the last time.

There are others. Others who believe they knew him better than anyone else. Others, who, believe that they have "rights" to him. I have spoken to people individually. I have tried to be reasonable. It hasn't been successful. This is why I write today.

We have been married a little over three years. We have been together for five. We have lived together for four years. So, during the past five years, I saw him almost every day. It was I who held Kelly when he was scared, crying, or sick. Were you there when we lost two pregnancies? Were you there when I threw up for hours on end, day after day, for 22 weeks of my pregnancy with Emory? No, but he was.

Were you here when we bickered? Were you here when the ugly sides of both of us came out? No. You may have heard from one or both of us, but you didn't see what really happened. My friend, Julie, saw more than most. She had the unfortunate knack of being here on a couple of days when ugliness was spewing. I believe she would answer questions if you really want to argue what you think you know.

There are people who have started social media pages and events using my husband's name without my knowledge. When I asked for that to be stopped, not only was my request not honored, I was criticized and disrespected.

My heart is broken. It breaks over and over. I come in my door and see the place where I last saw Kelly and it wasn't pretty. My beautiful, wise child asks in different ways every day for his daddy. I am the sole party able to handle the legal aspects of his death. I am out of work, so there are financial concerns.

My funny, sweet, imperfect husband has been dead for 8 days. People, you need to back off. Things I may be happy to see occur in the future are not appropriate now. I cannot believe that I am being pushed about festivals! For the love of God and the memory of the man you say you love, please stop. Please let me grieve and try to get my life in some kind of new order. I should be doing nothing except necessities and taking care of Emory.

Thank you to all of the family, friends, coworkers, and strangers who have shown me love and compassion. You are greatly appreciated and cherished.