Yet Another Day

Today, the day I was put in the hospital, 5 years ago, making sure Joel had the video camera, the digital camera and our cell phones to make the phone calls after our arrival. I have found myself thinking of this a lot today. I have been avoiding anything to do with Faith's birthday if at all possible. I still have her presents in the car, still need to wrap them, not even wanting to go out and get them. I know the "first" birthday, holiday.....will be hard, this I remember from my brothers passing, but this is so different. I find myself wondering if the next year will be the same, if it will carry the same pain and dread or if it will eventually get a little easier to handle. My mom has assured me that it does, but I keep thinking, "mom, this is so different, this is my husband, the father of my two girls". (no offense mom, I love ya!) I know it will get a little less painful and I will find ways to move through it, but right now it seems kind of bleak. I just have to keep holding onto the thought that Joel will be with me tomorrow, Friday as I celebrate my 29th birthday, as we attend the dedication in Omaha, and all the other events to come in the next 3 months. I know he will be with me and I need to keep praying to God to have the strength and his guidance to get me through those most difficult days. It is just hard to do sometimes, you would rather just shut down and not do it. I know I can't, these girls are counting on me to keep moving and keep going for them and that I have to do. So I am praying for strength tomorrow and in the next few days. To give me the strength to do these things, make it through the days and keep strong in the hardest moments.

Am I Angry?

In the last few months, I had been asked many times, "aren't you angry at the Army? Don't you wish they would pull the soldiers out?" That statement alone makes me furious! NO I am not angry at the Army, they did not put that IED there, they did not detonate it. I am furious at the *$#%&#$%* Iraqi's who placed it and detonated it. As I answer no, I see utter confusion on their face and I think, here we go, I need to explain why again. I launch into my story about Joel...why he was in the Army. Joel beleived whole heartedly in what he, his soldiers and the Military as a whole is trying to accomplish in Iraq and Afghanistan, he knew that if we sat back after Sept 11, 2001 our country would continually be in a state of terror, with attacks occuring frequently. He wanted to make sure that our daughters, their children and your children could grow up in a country free of terror, with the freedoms that we had. Joel loved the Army very much, beleived in it and treasured all the lessons and experience he had gained in his 15 years in the Army. I know my story would be different if Joel had different feelings about the Army and our goals in Iraq and Afghanistan, but they aren't. I am sure that he had his own little things that he was not sure about, but the big picture is, he beleived in our goals and did it proudly and honorably. I also think that since I was in the Army and felt very similar to the way my husband felt, I can be more at peace with what happened and why he died. I don't mean this to say that I don't miss my husband, damn it I do, more than I ever thought I could miss one person, love one person. I also honor him by remembering why we can stand up at hockey games/basketball games.....and sing along with the national anthem, hold our hands over our heart, drive around daily and not worry that some random act of terror is going to come crushing down on us, not if our military and our country can help it. That I remember daily, each time I think of him, each time I hear comments about our military, our country, our president. I remember why these people can say those things....because of the ultimate sacrifice that so many men and women have paid, the strength, honor and courage to do what many of us won't. So, no I am not angry...not at all, I am sad, I am hurt, but I am not angry at the reason why he died. I am proud of my husband and all that he accomplished in his33 years on this earth.

Kids Made My Day

Today was a good day, relatively. The girls just made my day, they are both just to darn funny, and they just made the day easier for me. I guess my prayers were answered, I asked for strength to get through the day and easy moments. Today we had to drive onto post and as we were driving through the gate, the security guard was checking our ID and waving us through, at FT Benning they always say, "Welcome to home of the Infantry, Follow Me". This time, for the first time, Faith said, "But you aren't walking". It was hysterical, I about died laughing. I do not know how many times she has been on post, but this was first time she ever said that, it was to funny and it gave me a good laugh. I do not like going on post, I always have moments of dread of what moments will come to me. She made me laugh and helped me through that moment. Then as we were driving home, out of the blue Faith starts talking about her lessons in school, she could not remember what baby chickens were called, so I told her chick's. She starts singing, chick's and dickling's, chick's and dicklings. I was laughing so hard, I was about to pee my pants. Finally I was able to tell her that it is "duckling and not dickling", (which actually sounded like duckwing). I laughed so damn hard, she just made my day and made it "easy" for me. It was just a refreshing day, with moments from my kids to make it light and easy. I know my kids will help me through those days that I just don't want to keep going. I thank god for everything I have and for my gift of my girls.

Sleeping Babes

I just went into my bedroom and stood there for a few minutes, mesmerized by my two beautiful girls. Bren, asleep on my bed, laying on her back like her papa did, always, knees contorted into a semi-bent, semi-laying position, her eyes half open so you can see her eye balls moving.....just like her papa. I wanted to cry, but then looked at Faith, sacked out in her flower sleeping bag, on her side like me, knees curled up...like her mama, but where she reminds me the most of joel is her talking, she can carry on a full conversation in her sleep, just like Joel. Yesterday she actually sat up, said, "mama, I don't want it", then laid back down and slept for another 30 minutes. This morning she was laying there, doing some sort of hand puppet story she learned at school, it was to cute, but again, I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream, why, why, why. I know I can't, not because I would wake the girls, but I know that I have my memories and that they will always remind me of my Joel, always give me that sense of having a part of him with me, always. I am greatful for that, and I know in time, as I start to get better, I will have fun pointing these things out to the girls, writing them down with them and talking about the things they "inherited" from their papa. I know in time it will be easier to see these things and smile, or laugh, because Joel had some damn funny habits, like sleep eating.....a lot of things that I am sure I will talk about later. A lot of things that I know will continue to crop up in my girls as they get older. I love these girls and thank God I have them right now to keep me going, keep me sane(or somewhat sane anways), that point is debatable on whom you talk to.

Awake and Restless

It is 615am and I am wide awake and restless. This is the normal "awake" time for me, but I have been awake since about 4am. Not really sure why, but I have my suspiscions. I woke up at 4, trying to go back to sleep, but I had that uneasy feeling and knew it would be hard. I laid there, finally drifting off, my youngest daughter was in bed with me and I felt her roll over and as she did, I could feel her slip off the bed. She landed on the oldest who was sacked out in her sleeping bag on the floor and whacked her cheek on the side beam of my bed. This was at 445am, so we "bandaid" the owies, cuddled and mama kissed the "hurts" and they drifted back to sleep. It is now 510 and I am awake but I think I started to drift back to sleep, only to wake up 10 minutes later with that feeling of my heart actually going through motions. I cannot explain it, but it is the strangest thing....it is as though you are living an experience and you heart truly feels like it is moving with the motions that you are dreaming or thinking about. I laid there and let the thoughts come back and realized....this is why I am awake. I guess I started or had been all night maybe, dreaming, dreaming about how Joel died. The day I handed bracelets out to the Baker CO soldiers, I heard from a soldier of how the accident happened, alot of details I had not heard before. I found myself reliving those details, as if I was with the convoy that night, hovering over and watching it happen. I don't remember seeing Joel, but I could see the hummvee, see the others moving back to the hummvee, pulling soldiers out. This continues to haunt me as I sit here writing.....why was I thinking that, why was this image running rampant through my mind? I am wondering if it is something that I want more clarity on? If it is something that will continue to haunt me until I ask those questions and get those answers. Maybe I will have to talk to Joel's 1SG and the PL SG that I spoke with....I am not sure. I know I will have the answers in tme. For now, I just hope I find some peace today and can keep moving through this day.

Photograph by Nickleback

As I finished the last post, I tuned in to what song was playing on the iPod, it was Photograph by Nickleback...some of the words are very pertinent to what I just wrote about, memories, feelings.....hmmmmm, was that a sign? I think so.

Pictures and Ralph

Today I was talking to K, I told her I had some frames I need to put pictures in and hang them on the walls. I am still in the process of getting the house back together. Little did I know when I told her this how hard this process would be. I hung the frames on the wall so I knew where they were going and could decide from there what photo's to put in them. Frames are up, now it is time to flip through pictures, this was the hard part. I found a stack of pictures and a folder of them to flip through quickly. One of the first ones I came across was a photo that Faith, then 3(2 months from her 4th b-day), took the best photo of Joel and I, it was on the day that Joel left for Iraq, Jan 6th. We are standing together, my arms around his waist, I am kind of hanging on him and he is just grinning at Faith. I remember both of us saying, our heads will probably be cut off. When I got that roll developed, that was one of the best pictures in the whole stack. I took that photo and had picture ID tags made for him (along with a photo of him and the girls, the one you see in all the newspaper articles with him and the girls) and sent them as a valentines day present. He wore them on his ID tags all the time, they were on him the day he died. I found this picture and I lost it, completely broke down and I had a flood of memories come back to me. Memories of that day, thinking it is only a year and tomorrow it will be one day down, 355 to go. I remember taking that photo into work, having it on the outside of my locker, everyday. Looking at it daily and sometimes crying because I missed him so much. The one thing that came back and brought more tears was something that a gentleman I worked with, Ralph, always said to(I will use his name because not to many people know him by his first name). I would talk to him a lot in the mornings when I got to work early and everyday after Joel left and he saw that picture, he would say, "CPT Cahill, that picture of you and your husband is wonderful, I look at it everyday when I go get the linen out of the locker room, it brings a smile to my face. You can see how much you love your husband." I cannot count the times he said this to me, he even brought it up in morning report a few different times, embarrassing as it was at times, it made me feel so good and proud of my husband and what we have, or had.....I love that picture. It still remains my favorite of us. I thank Ralph for always bringing that up to me, for reminding me of what I had with my husband and that he could see the love in our faces. Little did I know how much that picture would come to mean to me. I pulled it out today and will keep it on my bedside table for a long time to come. As I continued to flip through the photo's(after all the tears stopped and I could smile at the memories), I found a small stack of photo's of the girls and Joel when he was home on R and R. While everone was here after Joel's death, someone brought something up to me about these photo's, something that I never saw before. These photo's took place at a park, on a swing near a river and Joel is holding the girls in his lap, the first one, they are all looking at me, smiling and waving, the second one, Joel is looking at me, smiling..waving, the girls are looking up at the sky, the next one, it is Joel with Faith, then Joel with Bren, then Faith by herself, then Bren by herself, then a picture of the girls, alone on the bench, looking sad and away from me. I did not ever put this together, but someone said to me, it was if they knew, as if in those photo's something or someone was telling them that they would be without him at some point. It broke my heart.....I never saw that before....I never looked at it that way....Just photo's that I snapped because I wanted a lot of pictures of us together, having fun. I see those pictures and that is what I think. I see my girls looking up to heaven and my husband looking at me, and I feel my heart breaking again, wanting to go back to that day and erase it all.....I know I can't, I know I need to be greatful that I have those pictures, those memories, these moments as hard as they are. It just plain sucks somedays.....I can't wait for those days or moments to be farther apart.

Sundays

Sundays are always the hardest days for me, the most difficult of any day in a week. I just recently found the strength to go back to church, which happens to be Sundays for us. I am wondering if this is for a reason, if this is the day that I should call on God the most to help me through these days. Today, as we were at church, I found myself thinking about a few hours from 830, 230pm. That is the time that Joel passed, the time that my world changed forever. I found myself wondering why this happened, why God thought that my girls and I were strong enough to handle this. The Priest was talking about Jesus always giving you the strength to handle all that he gives you, that he is always with you and it is up to us to call on him daily, not just in our time of need, but every moment. I thought about this hard and I realized that there has been many times that I did not call on God to help me, that I just kept about "business as usual" and knew he was there, but did not give him the time. Now that I am going through this moment in life, I find myslf calling him daily, sometimes hourly....I realize that as I am going through this journey, with my pain and my girls....I must remember to always call on him, no matter what the situation, good or bad and teach my girls to do the same. I know there is an underlying message to all that is happening right now and I feel that I am constantly learning new things about myself......how I handle my pain, how I try to help my children handle and understand their pain, how I need to remember to call on God for support, understanding and help through all moments in life, how I push away instead of pull in.....so many lessons, things I never took the time to think about, things that I know will keep me going and help me through this. Life is full of lessons, this I have always known, I just never really knew how many lessons I would continue to learn, even in this most difficult time. So as I continue on this Sunday, I know I will need a lot of support and help today, that I need to allow myself to have my memorie, my moments of sadness and my moments of joy. I pray that someday soon Sundays will become easier, but I know that will take a long time. Their is a song by Tim McGraw, She misses him most on Sunday, that rings very true for me.

Balmex and Bandaids

Balmex and Bandaids, where would we mama's be with out these necessary items? Tonight as we were brushing our teeth for bed, Bren's teeth kept getting this white residue on it, I was perplexed...so I inspected the toothbrush, wondering what the heck was on it. Bren had evidently put balmex on it first, just a little, then put some toothpaste over top of it. I laughed for a minute, heard Joel laughing right along side of me, but could also hear him saying, how gross! As the girls were finishing up, I went into the tub/toilet part of our bathroom(it is a Jack and Jill style, a door closing off the sink from the other part) and found the box of hello kitty bandaids(just bought them last week), empty, with bandaid wrappers on the floor and bandaids discarded in the trash, or near it anyways(hey they tried). I was fuming(bandaids are expensive!!), upset that they used up all of them, upset that i forgot to put them up higher, upset that they had a few minutes to themselves and they got into the bandaids!!! I was ready to chew them out, when I heard....it's only bandaids and balmex, relax Francis. I wanted to cry, only Joel ever said relax Francis to me, I don't know if anyone knew that he used that phrase so often with me.....I know it was him reminding me to let the little things pass, to let the irritating moments just slide by and let the girls be girls for right now. These are the moments that I probably miss him the most, the things that I know he would have laughed at, been a little upset like I was but then laughed about it with me, and with that smirk on his face, the twinkle in his eyes, he would have said, "damn it they are to funny, who do they get it from" and he would keep laughing. I can hear his laugh right now, I miss his laugh so much. I remember a lot of moments like that, sitting in our living room on the couch just laughing about silly things they would say as they were fighting the "sleep monster" as we called it when papa was home. It is the little things like bandaids and balmex that make me remember that he is still with me.

Arlington

Last week, on Feb 15th, I went to Arlington before driving up to NJ to visit K. I met some of Joel's soldiers there, and walked with them and my girls to Joel's gravesite. I could have driven, but something was telling me to walk, to take my time. As we walked, I was looking at all of Arlington, remembering that day on Nov 18th, burying my husband, the walk we we made behind the caison, down from the Chapel at FT Mead, to the gravesite, area 60, #8255. Joel wanted to be buried at Arlington if anything happened to him, this he told me before leaving in January, he wanted to be here, among other hero's and friends......he wanted nothing more than any other soldier there receives, in his eyes, he was just another soldier. As I walked with friends that day, Feb 15th, I remember thinking of the walk, trying to stay as close to the caison as I could, trying to spend those last few moments with my husband. I was not going to walk at first, but as I watched the casket bearers load my husband onto the caison, I thought, I need to be here, I cannot leave him. I was approached by LTC H, he asked if it was ok for him and some other soldiers to make this final walk with Joel, I said absolutely, I am too. He looked at me and just said....do you want the girls with you? (I think...) We got the girls and he carried one of them the whole way.....I remember MG B. asking me if I wanted to slow down at one point, if I wanted to be with the family, there was a large group behind us, about 100 feet or so, I turned and look, and thought, no way....they are to far away from Joel. I politely said, no thank you, I need to be with my husband. I felt a little guilty, but I know I would have felt worse if I was further behind Joel. This moment gave me a lot of closure, a lot of strength and I felt Joel with me, walking. As I walked out to my husbands gravesite, Feb 15th, I remember making that walk just a few months earlier, I could remember the flag draped casket being set on the casket stand, I remember looking at it as if it was a dream....this whole time I felt as though I was in a dream, as though I was reliving an experience all over again, one that I did not want to ever live. That day at Arlington was very good for me and my girls.....as hard as it was and as difficult as it has made some moments since, it was good for me. Seeing Joel's headstone, with his name, his birth and death dates, his highest medals.....it made it so concrete, he is not still in Iraq, he is home, in Arlington, not with us in body, only spirit.....maybe something I was not fully letting myself grasp ahold of. Since that day, I have done a lot of crying, a lot of thinking and praying, a lot of remembering and going through a lot of emotions that before I would not allow myself to experience. As hard as that moment has been for me, for some of my friends to listen to me relive some of these moments and cry and vent....I am greatful for that day, for my friends and those who love and support me and my girls...without them, this would be even more difficult....for me....my girls....my memories.

Dreams

Since all of this has happened, I have had quite a few dreams of Joel, but only two right now that I remember involving him and what he looks like after his injuries. I am not sure what to make of this. This morning I woke up after another dream, wishing I could finish it, wishing I could know why I was having that dream, almost wishing it was real. The dream I had quite a few weeks ago involved me going to this place, with very long steps. I went to the desk and asked the man for CPT Joel Cahill, he said one moment. I remeber witin, the man comes down, and said Joel will be down in a few moments. I see my husband walking down these long steps. He is wearing his DCU's and his Kevlar. I looked at him, his face had a huge scar from the corner of his right lip up near his ear, it made him talk out of the left side of his mouth. I remember thinking, I just want to hold him. Then I saw the back of his head, the kevlar and part of his head was missing. I remember saying, I miss you so much, when are you coming home? Why didn't you come home? I remember him telling me I love you, but I am not ok, things are not right. I remember hugging for a long time, just wanting to hold him and never let go. Then he asked for the girls, I pointed to them playing in another room, and asked if he wanted to see them, he said, I don't want to scare them, but I get to see them everyday where I am now. I woke up, I remember wishing I had finished that dream, I remember wishing I knew what it meant. I remember being scared that I would forever remember that image of him, and it is not the way I want to remember him. This morning my dream was very different. I can't quite explain it, but I think I have an idea. This morning my dream was about the day I handed KIA bracelets with Joel's name on them out to the company. I was standing in front of the soldiers, talking, trying not to cry and telling them about how Joel felt about the CO, why he stayed in the Army and how being a CO made one of his dreams come true. I was looking out at the soldiers, making eye contact with a few, then in the back of the room, I made contact with this soldier who was still wearing his kevlar, I looked into his eyes and I knew it was Joel, I saw the scar on his cheek, I saw him whispering and the words were coming out of the left side of his mouth. I do not know what he was whispering, there was not anyone else looking at him, nobody knew he was there, but me. Then I woke up. As I have thought about it, I wonder if this was another sign from Joel, that he was telling me that he was with me that day, that he is always with me, especially on these hard days. I guess this dream came at the right time, I have been feeling very alone right now, I have a few more hard days coming and I don't want to face them. Faith's birthday, my birthday, Joel's dedication at our ROTC Building from CU, a dedication here at Benning, another trip to Arlington for Memorial day.......moments I would rather have him by my side for....but if that were the case, I would not even be facing these moments. I am thankful for these dreams, as hard as they are, as tough as they seem at times, I know that maybe in some way, clarity will be given to me through these dreams. I cannot understand everything right now, I wish to God I could. I still wish I had an instruction manual on how everything was supposed to be right now......it sure would make this easier, but life lessons are not supposed to be easy are they?

Tough days ahead

As I finished the last posting, I found myself thinking about some upcoming days that I am not looking forward too. I would not say dreading, but close to it! On March 1st, Faith turns 5, that is the tops of the days I would rather let pass by. I remember her birth like it was yesterday, but more importantly I remember the day I told Joel I was pregnant, I was scared and upset, but he was so excited, he was about to burst! I was scared and upset becasue it was not in "the plan", I was supposed to go to OBC that summer and start my Army time, but that was all on hold for our first born, our first little blessing. I remember so many moments of that pregnancy, the raging hormones, Joel wondering if the wicked witch of the west who could cry at the drop of a hat had moved in and took his wife away. I remember having to resort to sweatshirts and heavy sweaters on the cooler mornings in TN because none of my winter coats would wrap around my huge stomach and Joel laughing at me because a small part always seemed to be poking out somewhere. I remember being in the kitchen around christmas time, making a brunch for our friends J and E, and Joel and I had opened our presents early, I bought him a video camera and he was "testing" it out. He was videoing me, talking about his beautiful wife with her HUGE belly and our soon to be beautiful daughter in their. I remeber telling him to back off before I threw scone batter at him, I was still in my PJ's and he is videoing me!! How dare he! I wish I still had that video, it was stolen along with our camera a few years ago. I remember calling Joel from the hospital on Feb 28th, Faith was due March 19th, I had went in for a routine appointment, and was diagnosed with oligo(decreased amniotic fluid), and Faith was a little sluggish, so they kept me for a while and decided it was time to induce labor. I was scared, Joel was in the field, I did not know if I could get a hold of him, I did not have my bag with me, it was packed but at home. I remember getting a hold of him and all I could was cry, tell him that the baby was going to come, that they were inducing me. I do not know where on post he was, but he said he had never driven so fast on post before. It did not take him long to get there. After 24 hours of pitocin, stripping of membranes and a few other unpleasant things, Faith finally came at 749pm on March 1st. I remember that day so clearly. Three pushes and she was here, Joel was grinning ear to ear and I made him go with her to the nursery while they finished. He did not want to leave either one of us, but she needed him more than me. I think back to that day and remember the little pink wrinkly runt scaring the hell out of us, she was not sure how to breath and eat at the same time, so everytime she nursed, she turned blue, it scared the hell out of me and JOel, but Joel was ever strong and did not show his fear, not in front of me. I remember one night waking up to go check on her in the nursery, they kept her in the nursery for a while to make sure she was ok and nothing else was wrong, and when I walked in there, there was my husband, this man who seemed to be made of steel at times, was holding her tiny little hand, rubbing her little chest with one finger and had tears in his eyes. I will not forget that moment, never. This is why I am not looking forward to her birthday, this is why I think it will be difficult. Not that all life events are not going to be hard right now, but......I had promised Faith last year that her papa would be home for her 5th birthday, that we would have a huge party. I promised her that he would take her to kindergarden after she turned 5. I think it is more of these promises than it is anything else that is bothering me more. I am hoping and praying that this day will pass quickly and easily, that this will all go by well and will be filled with happy memories.

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

I have thought a lot lately about staying here in Columbus or moving back home. Right now I know I cannot make a clear decision, I just wish to hell I could. Parts of me wants to go home and be near family, let them help me through this, draw on them and let them give me support, especially with the girls on those very long, very hard days. The other part of me is saying to stay still, to wait, to take my time. I do not want to up and move and create more turmoil for my girls by taking them away from everything they know, their friends and schools. I also have always found myself to be a person who seems to think I always have to get through everything on my own, with phone support and friendships. That is what I did when my brother passed 8 1/2 years ago, and through other difficult times in my life, I find myself thinking I need to do that this time as well. I am not sure if that is always healthy, but I find it very hard to rely on others and say "I am going home for help". God love my parents and Joel's parents who want to help the girls and I through this, but.......I know I need to rely on them for strength and keep talking to them, I just don't think I can leave Columbus right now. I know I need to stop pushing away from them and other friends and family, which is something else I have found that I do when I am going through hard times, I push away, not wanting others to see me weak. I know that is hard to understand and I know I have hurt a lot of friends by doing that and I sure as heck do not intend to hurt them, I just don't know how to ask for help and still be strong. So for those of you whom I have pulled away from and pushed away, I do apologize for any pain I have caused.....I could give a list of people but those of you who have experienced this from me, you know who you are and I am so very sorry. Tonight the girls and I ran an errand before bedtime, and as we were pulling into the drive way, Faith said, "mama, those numbers, Papa did that and he was upset, remember?" I thought, holy crap! How in the world does she remember that, it was two years ago that we put those up and he was a little upset that day. He was having a hard time getting the 2 to look lined up with the other numbers, but finally he just said, it looks good enough to me. It does, it looks great and it was something that I tend to over look at times, but it also gave me a huge moment of clarity. Faith has a lot of memories here, good ones, and so do Bren and I, I cannot take that away from them or myself right now. I cannot leave this home, not yet. They are still going through this process, along with me, and I cannot cheat them out of memories that may come at fleeting moments. Just like those numbers, how many times have we seen those in the last 3 1/2 months? This was the first time she brough it up. I love that little girl and her memory, it is awesome. Today she had a huge moment, or at least I thought it was. We were driving down the road and I was feeling pretty yucky, overtired, upset stomach.....I thought I was going to be sick and Faith said, "mama, I wish you were not feeling bad, but don't throw up on me." It was hysterical, but I could not laugh, I felt to bad. She said, "mama, who laughed?" It was not me and so I said, no one honey. She was adamant that she heard someone laugh, so I asked her if it was close to her ear and sounded like they were next to her, she said yes. I thought, it had to have been her papa, did she hear him like I sometimes swear I can hear him laughing at different things? I thought, well no better time than now to explain this to her. So I proceeded to tell her about hearing him sometimes, when I really have an open mind, open my heart and hear him. I said, so Faith I think you heard him laugh, that is so awesome that you hear him. So she kept trying to talk to him, got upset that she did not hear it again, and I told her to just be still, listen and open her heart to God and her papa, she was quiet for a long time, then said, "mama, I heard him again, he said, he, he, haha". It was so precious and very heart breaking at the same time, but I thank God for giving me the strength to explain that to her, to help her understand that and I pray that she will keep opening her heart to hear papa. For those of you who saw Faith shortly after Joel died, and weeks after everyone left, you knew how angry and confused she was, it was clearly evident, she has come a long way from avoiding any talking of her papa, to openly talking about him, her memories and hearing him. This is going to be a long road, but I think we will make it, that I pray for daily.

Memories

As I took my girls to school today, I really thought hard about what Bren said, "pray for a kiss". It struck me hard and I keep thinking, something as simple as a kiss, damn it I wish I could do that for her, I wish it was that simple! Both girls had a hate love relationship about the kisses their papa would smother them with. It started with Faith, when she was a newborn, I was holding her in the kitchen in our home in Clarksville, TN and I had her laying flat so Joel could kiss her head, he kissed her nose first, her forehead, her cheeks, lips, then finally her tiny chin, as he was kissing her chin, she latched onto his nose and started sucking furiously! It was so funny, he laughed and kissed her some more and could not stop saying how much he loved that little girl. It was a sweet moment for us, the first night we had brought her home from the hospital, March 4th. That routine of kissing carried on throughout infancy for both of the girls and as they would get older, the kisses covered more, like their neck, arms...and he would always tickle them with his little "itch fuzz" as the girls called and they would love it, the loved being smothered in kisses by their papa. As infants they would kick their little feet, wave their arms and open their little mouth and squeal, Joel would then take that time to kiss all over their face, he loved their big open mouth kisses as babies. As toddlers, I can remember all of this so vividly, he would become the kiss monster, it always started out with a tickle and evolved into massive kissing fights. Sometimes the girls would kiss him back, all over, other times they would fight him off. Faith being more patient and being "papa's girl" would fight him off, and always want him to come back and give her more. Brenna on the other hand, she is my independant strong willed girl(god help me!), she would truly take it for a few mintues and then damn it!, she had it! Enough papa!! She would kick scream and run away, sometimes just screaming. It is so funny, he loved irritating her a little because she was always so dramatic. I would sit there and watch all of this happen, while they were playing on the floor, outside, getting into bed(which irritated the hell out of me!), or taking baths. Their was not a moment that these kissing and tickle sessions could not happen. The one that stands out in my mind the most is while he was home on R and R, they were in our family room, the girls were tackeling papa and he was trying his best to get his girls and smother them, but the girls had a helper this time, Max was standing over Joel's head and licking him, letting the girls win. It was hysterical, and I got some good shots of it, now one of those pictures sits in these little pillows I bought for the girls weeks before Joel passed, they are red, white, and blue and they say My Hero on it and have a place for a picture. It breaks my heart to know we will change that picture to older ones as they grown. As I was running all of this through my head at the gym, running faster and harder at times, I saw this couple looking at my sweat shirt, then I noticed he was wearing and UNL t-shirt. I just grabbed an old sweat shirt out of the closet, it was a UNL sweatshirt I had bought for Joel on our first christmas, but it shrank and subsequently became mine for the most part, he still wore it, but he loved his sweat shirts to be huge, it became one of the only ones that I could the following christmas as my belly grew to points beyond normal with Faith. I guess I wear it with love and memories now. I stopped running to ask this man and his wife if they were from NE, sure enough and he went to school at UNL, he is a PL for 2/69. They asked if I was here with the Army, I said well......yes, my husband was stationed here but he was KIA this year. Both of them had tear filled eyes when he asked me what unit? I told him, 3rd BDE, 1-15, Baker CO. He looked at me, his eyes about to spill over and he said, CPT Cahill? I could not speak, I was starting to sob, trying hard not to and I just nodded. He said, my CO spoke of him a lot, I knew him. He was a great man. I wanted to yell, yes!yes!yes!!!! he was but damn it, he is gone! I was bauling hysterically now, everyone is looking at me and I am ready to throw my KIA bracelet at them and tell them to read it and put a wife and family with the name! I just jumped on the treadmill and turn it up, I think I was going over 8 miles an hour, I felt like I was going to fly off, but I could not stop, I just kept going.......I felt like Forrest Gump for a while. Finally the moment passed, I slowed down, the lady next to me, patted me on the shoulder a few times, she may have talked to me, but my iPod was so loud I could not hear anything. I got through it, albeit 8 moments of trying not to loose it completly. I know they will lessen someday and somedays I will have more. I just know I need to keep praying for strength to get through this and know that when I want to yell I quite and my inner Mary is trying to run away, I need to draw on God and Joel to pull me through. Everyone says God will never give you more than you can handle....I beleive that....but damn it, I feel like I am at the breaking point somedays! Is that supposed to happen!? I will survive, this I know. I have two beautiful little girls that need me to get through this, as strong as I can, for myself and for them.

Chasing or Running Away?

As I sit here, trying to get myself ready for the day and my girls ready for school, I am contemplating why I started running again. When I started college, I found a love for running, and when my brother passed 8 1/2 years ago, I ran my tail off, it was an outlet. So now, 3 1/2 months after my husbands death, I find myself running again. I joined a gym, find myself going every morning lately and running as long as I can. It is difficult to keep myself going at times. I find myself fighting off moments of utter breakdown as I am pushing for the first 10 minutes or the last 10 minutes. The first day I ran, Tuesday, I had so many moments of "loosing" it. It could have been a song that came on, seeing a soldier and their spouse, seeing a picture of an Iraqi who is responsible for something new in Iraq, and getting angry. Every time those moments would come, I would feel it first in my heart, that achy pain, then my shoulders would start to ache and shake and move all the way down to the pit of my stomach, and I know I am about to have that break down that brings you to your knees, that makes you want to beat the wall or door in front of you or shake the life out of the legs standing in front of you. I have found a way to move through that, I think, I push harder on the treadmill or eliptical, I go faster, grab my KIA bracelet off of my wrist and hold onto it like someone is trying to snatch it out of my hand. I do not know if I am chasing memories, not wanting them to get away from me or if I am trying to run away from the pain and fear. As I start to feel the pain decrease and the moment of a huge breakdown pass, I start to slow down a little, I start to ease my grip on my husbands bracelet, and find myself rubbing the front of the bracelet, feeling the imprint of his name. You would think that would make me loose it all over again, but I know he is with me, I know he is giving me the strength to get through this day and keep moving. I ask him and God for strength daily and especially in those moments when I feel as though everything is coming down around me again. I am sure that the people at the gym think I am a little "crazy", or they are wondering.....what in the world is wrong with her, she is always crying. I guess I am not to worried about it, they can think what they want. This morning, as I gave the girls breakfast, they both wanted to pray, I was praying for strength to get through the day, my run, and have a good day. Faith wanted to pray for Maxwell, or golden retreiver, that he is healthy and does not run away. Brenna wanted to pray for Max as well, but she took it one step further and it broke my heart. She wanted to pray to Papa, she wanted to ask him for a kiss......how do you tel her that she can't have one again? How in the hell do you explain that to a three year old!!! All I could think to say was, Bren, you need to close your eyes, open your heart and really listen for papa. He may not be able to kiss you, but you will hear him and if he can, you will feel him kiss you on your cheek, head or neck. Is that right? Am I giving her false hope? I just want to make sure they both know even though he is not here, he is always with them in spirit. I know that will make more sense as they get older, but for now, how in the heck do I explain all of this to them, how do I keep them strong too? I wish I had a book of instructions to follow, it sure as hell would make this a little easier, but as we all know, life does not have an instruction book, if it did, we would all be living a little different life, wouldn't we?

Details of why I need to blog

Since I started blogging this morning, I have been thinking and wondering if I need to try and explain to myself and to others why I felt I need to blog. As some of us do, especially me, new things consume me, I contemplate them and get a little excited and think of what to do next. As I thought about this today, I really pondered, why...what should I say....do I need to explain more about why I am doing this? Maybe so. January 6th, 2005 my husband left for Iraq. I remember that day clearly. It was a bittersweet day, a long day. It was bittersweet because of course I did not want him to go, but at the same time, I knew that we would be ok and we would get through this deployment with ease and with good communication. See my husband and I had come to a new point in our marriage and communication had become key, and we had reached a good, healthy level and I knew that we would be succesful in getting through this deployment with love, communication and honesty. We were doing damn well too! On that day too, my husband pulled me aside from our girls and my mother in law, and talked to me on last time about his wishes if God forbid anything happened to him. I remember this clearly, just like I remember the first conversation. He had me stand on the fireplace hearth, (I was a good 6 inches short than him) and he held me and told me he loved me but I had to listen, just in case anything happened, but nothing was going to. He said the only thing that can hurt me is an IED and that is by chance, nothing will happen to me. So I listened, with one deaf ear, I did not want to hear this, I did not want to talk about this and I sure as hell did not want to know that he had thought this through. I cried and I thought, well I won't have to remember this, so......thank God my husband talked to me about these things, they helped immensly in the days after his death. My husband came home for R and R on July 1st, 2005. It was a beautiful, fun time. Sure we had our moments, but for the most part it was a lot of fun and very refreshing. I do have to say, that a few days before he left, he sat me down again, and talked to me about his wishes, this time I truly listened a little better, this time I thought damn it, I wish he would stop, but I knew my husband and knew that he would only talk about this if he thought it truly necessary. I am so glad he did. I also remember standing there after he was done talking, in our front office, watching him check his e-mail and I just started bauling and I could not stop. He turned and asked me what was wrong and all I could say is, "I don't know why, but I do not feel as secure this time around as I did when you left in January." He pulled me into his lap and said, don't worry, I will be ok, it is the those shitheads over there that you need to worry about, not me. I kind of laughed and sat there for a few more minutes, still not at ease. I now know why I was not at ease. Nov 6th, 2005 10 months from the time my daughters and I wished him well and took him for his initial trip to Iraq. How ironic. A day that will live on forever in my mind. A day that will never be forgotten. As I sat in my home, with my good friend and neighbor, trying to understand all that was going on, I found myself secretly wanting to check my e-mail and see if this was a mistake, wanting to check my voice mail and see if their was a message after the time they said he had died. Wanting to find anything that would prove they were wrong. I knew I would not find it though. He had e-mailed me earlier that day and told me he was going to have some time that evening and he would call me. We were supposed to make a final decision on pictures we wanted to order of the girls. When he did not call, I just thought he got busy and he would call early in the am, or the next day. Part of me is wondering why I did not know, how I could not know that my love, my husband, had been killed by an IED, why did I not feel something different? Instead I was busy shopping for a new carpet cleaner, feeding and bathing the girls, having dinner with our neighbor Miss K., getting the girls into bed. Worrying about the day to day things, not even aware that my life had changed forever, 6 hours before I found out. This is why I am blogging. I hope to figure these things out, I hope to sort through these memories and moments and get a clear mind out of this. Will that ever happen? Will the fog ever clear completly or will I just continue to just drift through it, day in and day out.

Life After Iraq: Moments from my children

Just a few hours ago, I picked up my oldest daughter, Faith, from pre-k. As we were driving I was finding myself getting agitated with all the darn delivery truck drivers out there, why is that they think because they are in a bigger truck they have the right to cut you off or pass you from the right hand side of the road!!! I said to nobody in particular, damn drivers, passing on the wrong side of the darn road! Faith, who was in the backseat, said, "mama, who are you talking to?" So I explained a few rules of the road, not passing on the right when there is not a lane and using your blinker. So she thought about it for a moment, in this way she is like her papa, she is a thinker, finally she says, "mama, you just need to stop him and tell him that he cannot pass on the right side of the road if there is not a lane, tell him he could hurt someone". I laughed out loud, not because my soon to be 5 year old said this to me, but because she sounded just like her papa. I told her this and she laughed and said, I told you my cold made me sound like a boy. I laughed again, and said, no, you think like your papa did, and it brought a smile to my face. So after a minute of thinking again, she says the same statement over again about telling the truck driver, except this time she said it in a deep voice, like a man and said, "did I sound like him more?" Kids!!! I love these girls and it is moments like these that I realize how important they are to my process and my life. It is moments like this that I realize how blessed I am to have them and I will forever see my husband in them, some days that is hard, most days, it brings a little bit of happiness to me. I truly am blessed, even in this most difficult time.

Why I am blogging

I am sitting here wondering why I feel the need to blog, I am not sure, I guess I am hoping that it will help me get through this grief and pain I am feeling right now. You see, 3 months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago my husband, the father of my soon to 5 and 3 1/2 year old little girls was killed in Iraq. I will forever remember that day, I was on the phone with a very good friend whom I had drifted away from in the last few years, but she called me out of the blue and I returned her call after putting the girls to bed. We had not been talking long and I was walking out to my garage to put some items way, and I heard that knock, the one that you know you cannot ignore, the one that gives you goose bumps. Since I was outside, I decided to peak around my garage door and see who in the heck was knocking at my door at 815pm. I saw the two men, dressed in their A's, solemn and grief stricken and my heart sank, my mind screamed no, no, no. I remember telling K. that I had to go, that I would call her later and hardley being able to speak, almost hanging up because my words would not come. As I walked into my home, with the two men following me, I thought what is going on, why, how, are they sure?! As I reflect back on that moment, I know that for some reason I was meant to be talking to K, I feel that our conversation was a sign from my husband that I need to remember who has helped me through the tough times and lean on her. Thank you K! I will forever remember thinking, how in the hell am I going to tell Faith that her Papa is not coming home, ever. I knew she was going to be the hardest to tell, Brenna, our youngest is to little to completly understand. The night I told my daughters that their papa was not coming home was the hardest thing I have ever had to do to them. It was Monday night, around 5pm and I finally had seen them for the second time that day, my good friend and neighbor, kept them for me, stayed with us and helped me immensely with my babes. As I sat on the couch telling my daughters, my Faith looked at me and her face crumbled, her eyes welled with tears and she screamed, wailing louder than I have ever heard her wail in my life. She did not ask why, how and get angry then, she just cried and cried, then 20 minutes later it was over. Bren on the other hand, cried a little, sitting in Miss K's lap and did not quite get it, she just knew that she should be sad, that something bad happened to make mama cry and Faith scream. All I could think was, damnit! I am not supposed to be telling this to a 4 year old and a 3 year old, this is not fair to them. My heart was broken and shattered, but I tell you, I could feel it crumbeling even more as I told my babes that papa was not ever going to be coming home, that he was in an accident in Iraq and was killed, that his body was hurt so bad that he stopped breathing. That he was in heaven, now our angel and will always be in our heart. Even now as I write this, I think the same thing and wonder why, what is the reason for all of this right now and just want to scream. However, I do not scream as much as I used too, I feel it, but it does not come out as often. These last three months have been something out of a "chick-flick"(as my husband often called my movies) with the saddest ending possible, I feel as though at times I am looking at my life right now through a window and want so desperatly to move away and not watch anymore, but unfortunatly, I am living it and it is not a window that I can move away from. I do know that in time, I will start getting stronger, that in time, I will be ok. I also know that he will never be gone from my life, that he will never be away from us. I feel him with me often and know that he is giving me strength when I need to do the hardest things right now. I look at our girls and I see him, although my oldest looks a lot like me, she has her papa's eyes, his lips and smile and nose, his sense of humor and type A personality, and of course his black hair, my youngest has the Cahill bum, the cahill build, his head shape, his ears and the twinkle in her eyes that my husband had, the Irish eyes. I see those girls and I think of him, I remind myself how fortunate I am to have these babes, the two most precious gifts he ever gave me, they get me through each day, they keep me going every day and remind me of why I need to be strong and how I need to move through this hardest moment in life and get through for them, for us and for their papa and what he would want. I wish it was not so, if I could get my way, Nov 6th, 2005 would never have happened, Nov 11th, 2005 there would not have been a memorial service for him and Nov 18, 2005 I would not have had to bury him in Arlington with all the other hero's who have given the ulitimate sacrifice for our freedom and our country. Those days are forever burned in my mind, my heart and my soul. Those are days that I will never forget.