Things & Stuff

I miss writing!

I miss sharing!

Since the last post in 2022 ... I have a new grandson, a new beautiful home in Ankeny, IA, I've traveled some more, and I am blessed. 

For the past soon to be 12 years in May, I have used the word blessed ... on our darkest day, I was blessed by family and friends. Over the last 12 years, I have been blessed. I've had conversations with many who wonder at how me and mine are doing. I have had numerous comments about how I've handled life "after", about continuing to find blessings each and every day. 

Recently, I have had conversations about God's role in the last 12 years. And just like all of the other milestones and or steps in this journey I've been on, I think I need to tap out some thoughts, let it all ruminate.

As most of you know, I was blessed to serve as a Lay Preacher for One In Christ, area churches, and in my last two years in Lake Mills, as a Lay Preacher for Bethel Lutheran in Vinje. Doug was my constant companion and driver when I started preaching. He told me once, that listening to me each Sunday, made him understand "God" a whole lot more.  

A couple weeks after Doug's death, Pastor Bill and I had a long chat about returning to the pulpit, and how vulnerable I might feel, and was I ready. I told him I was very ready, and he asked if I could preach the first or second weekend in June I think it was, just a month after our loss. I said, "Of course!" He sent me the lessons and prayers, as was our usual routine, and I called or emailed back ... "ARE YOU SERIOUS?" It was the story of the widow walking in the funeral procession of her son. I DID IT ... and I did it with the strength of God within me. I preached 6 or 7 years after Doug died, I spoke at the hospice Tree of Life ceremonies and Butterfly release ceremonies ... and I've shared my journey along the way. 

Did I question faith and God ... oh my gosh ... YESSSSSSSSSSS ... Seriously, with all the scum of the earth kinds of people in the world, why would you choose to take an amazing father and husband, a pillar in his community. If God is all caring, all knowing, and all powerful, why, why would he let the firing pin work when it did and take the life of our Doug. If God was our father, he would know how much we loved Doug and how lost we'd be without our husband and dad .... friend, supervisor, fan, brother, brother-in-law. How on earth can a loving God let this happen ... THOSE are just a few questions that ran through my heart and mind. 

Here's what I know ... 

• I believe in my heart of hearts, that God and his Son, Jesus, shed the first tears as they held my Doug, that morning. 
  
• I believe that accidents happen, really bad, shitty accidents.
• I believe that God promises that there will be a place for each of us beside Him. 
• I firmly believe, "For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord, "plans to prosper and not harm, plans to give you hope and a future ..." Jeremiah 29:11. Those words have been like a mantra for me when my faith wavered.
• I believe that God held us as we sat in a funeral home, looking Bart Winter in the face, as he told us that funerals are expensive, and we planned, and I realized the life insurance wasn't going to last the rest of my life. 
• I know, that not only each of my kids kept me up right during visitation, but I know that God surrounded us. As 3 to 4 hundred people walked past just to hug us, to say Good-Bye to their Doug, God gave us the strength to feel embraced and loved and gave us the power to make those present feel comforted. 
• I believe in God, because without that to lean on. Doug is just in the ground, he's just dead. Without that belief, I'm just damn mad. Without God, the peace which surpasses all human understanding is just empty space. As Daryl and Jim sang the words, "It is well, it is well, with my soul." with pain in their face, with passion in their voices ... there was a peace that washed over me in that Church. Something reached out to me, reached within me, to say, you are going to be alright. 
• Without faith ... where do you turn on your dark days? Who do you blame for your loss? Who do you trust with your secrets and wonders? Faith ... believing without seeing, believing without touching, believing without proof, believing without science ... it's hard, but it's real, so very, very real. How do I know ... because I've felt it, seen it, and know it, for the Bible tells me so.

Zobel Family Vacation
2022 - Branson, MO

I truly do feel blessed. My kids trust me enough to live a life with Bill, trust me enough to confide in me and let me be their momma. My kids make it a priority to plan a Zobel family vacation each year, in lieu of gifts at Christmas. My kids are so successful, it makes me feel giddy as I watch their dreams come true. And I believe it is their hard work, but it is also by the Grace of God that they are so very blessed in their lives, sharing that blessing to all those around them. Dang I am blessed :)  

                Until Soon,

                Vickie

10 Years ~ A Decade

 10 years is a long time ... but decade seems even longer.

It's been almost 2 years I think, since I last posted. Where the heck does time go?

There's again so much to say, perhaps if I'd post a little more often, there'd be less to say! 

A decade of changes: my spouse died, my Poppie died, Doug's cat died, I changed jobs 3 times ~ Lake Mills Chamber Development Director, Branch Manager at Citizen's Community Credit Union, and currently working for Charles City Aeronautics; I've moved from my beloved Lake Mills and all my friends; I have 2 daughters-in-law, I have 2 grandsons, 1 granddaughter, I've lost 2 grand dogs, I have a new grand dog, a grand cat; I started dating, got engaged, got married last September 18, have 3 bonus daughters, 1 bonus son, 1 bonus grandson, 2 bonus grand dogs; I moved to a new, but old, house; my sister was very ill for a very long time, the other sister moved to Florida, my bother keeps care of his ranch; I've started to travel and have the travel bug; went on my first cruise, just visited Michigan, and I turned 60 :( 

Today, ten years ago, we said good-bye, face to face, for the last time. We stood outside and sang Jesus Loves Me and Amazing Grace, Kandie and Bill leading us, as the hearse pulled away from Salem Lutheran Church. Today 10 years ago, Nolan's fraternity brothers circled Nolan and I, they sang something and they spoke words in honor of Doug. Today 10 years ago, Jim Scholbrock and Daryl Sherman, stood in a choir loft and sang, "It Is Well With My Soul," while by brother-in-law, Bill Georgia, pounded out his grief at the piano accompanying them. Today 10 years ago, it took a trailer, some dear friends, to haul all of the flowers from the church to my home. Today 10 years ago, my niece, Emily Georgia, stood guard near me, elbowing out and moving people right along as we stood in line before the service. Today 10 years ago, I walked to my back door and saw the handsome face of Uncle Floyd, and his beautiful daughters, I turned around and walked back in my house, I couldn't face the truth. 

Ten years ago today I walked downstairs to the beautiful lunch of Jello Cake, sandwiches and chips, prepared and served by Silver Lake ladies and Salem ladies, and I saw Ron Ronken, he drove from northern Minnesota, to be with my family. Ten years ago today, I remember a conversation in the basement stairwell with Jim Scholbrock, he told me they had not made it through the songs in practice even once without a struggle, I told him, don't think just count and sing. And truly, that music those 3 men made, was like the Holy Spirit washing over me ... It IS well with my soul ... words from heaven.

Ten years ago this week, I remember having to wake up my Nolan, my brother Donnie was at the house, having heard it on the scanner. Nolan left my side only after my sisters and Joan had arrived. Nolan, beside me, I dialed April ... she ghosted me, I called her friend Lindsay, told Lindsay what had happened and made her promise to take care of my daughter, April called back. I dialed Brandon, he was in Arizona on a business trip, driving down the freeway, telling his driver to stop the car. those two had to hold it together for most of the day, to get home. Brandon's fiancé, Blair, and her mother met him at the airport, and then he and Blair drove to Iowa from Omaha. My three pillars, broken-hearted, spinning, took such good care of me, and I hope I of them. 

I remember Nathan Chodur sitting in my living room with his sister, their faces white with sadness. I remember one of Doug's dearest friends, Dave, kneeling at the chair I was sitting in, wondering, "What can I do?" His wife, Lori, standing by the colonnade, tears running as she witnessed the heartbreak of her husband and friend. I remember the face of Rachel Ringham, kneeling by the sofa or chair, holding my hands, her face filled with disbelief, her forehead leaning on mine, repeating, "I am so sorry." 

I remember walking to the Funeral Home on Thursday to make plans, the three kids and I, the weather was amazing. I remember waking up on Thursday and Friday morning, 10 or 12 coolers lining the back of my house, filled with water, pop, beer, and it never got empty, the elves of Lake Mills, doing what small town America does best, take care of it's own. I remember Doug and Rhonda Harmon, speechless, but a Doug hug, tight and loving ... I still get those Doug hugs, whenever our paths cross.

Ten years ago today, Jenny, Leif, and family, stuck around, helping with dinner, helping with garbage, opening cards ... Doug's and my adopted son, Brandon's brother from another mother. I remember my questions as we sat in those first hours, waiting for things to happen, asking questions and my sister,  Deb, taking on a stern tone, setting me straight. I remember Suzi, Brooke and Kali, with baby Paisley,  coming to the house, and Kali and Paisley, giving my Dad some peace and a reminder of new life. I remember my sister, Barb, feeling so helpless, so lost, worried about her little sister. 

Ten years ago ... my fridge was so full, we set up a 3 x 8 foot buffet table for food, and we were blessed, so very blessed. Ten years ago this week, my dear friend Joan, was at my side, sitting with me when I napped, hugging me close, and always showing her beautiful smile, I clung to that smile ... it was such strength to me. I remember when her husband arrived, I walked to the kitchen to get something, and there he was in the doorway, his head in his arm ... I looked at him and walked away. I just couldn't. I remember days later, standing with his dear friend Scott Bosacker, and we talked about his calendar, and he had written successful beside Doug's name on May 9th. It's how he thought of Doug.

10 years ago today, the kids and I walked home from the funeral, it was around 3, and one thing had not changed. We were still family, a family ... we missed him already, but I kept thinking, he'd be so proud of us. Doug's buttons always popped when he spoke of his kids, and as he looked down from heaven, I know he missed us, but I also know that he knew we'd be ok, we'd be good, we'd be successful, we'd find our way. 

10 years ago today ... Pam's "funeral" turkey, Kari sitting on the picnic table with me, Jeff Cole's southern drawl, Tyson arriving to sit with is "brother", Lyndsey driving April home, Kevin and Cheryl coming from Indianola to hug us and then go home, Pastor Bill, Pastor Randy, Bart Winter having the organist play "Take Me Out To the Ballgame" as people left the funeral, hearing "Peaceful Easy Feeling" as we walked out, cards, gifts, memorials, food, Cindy telling me to take the med my sister was giving me, lighting the bonfire ... 10 years ... I have another entire page of people and memories, these were the ones that popped into my head as I was rambling on. You are not forgotten ... you saved us ... you helped us to breathe when it was our darkest moment.

And today ... as I celebrate Doug, I am reminded of the hurt, the paid, the sadness, but I am also reminded of his gift of love, strength, humor, kindness, generosity, friendship, honesty, tinkering, fixing, and I know he's still with me today ... All I have to do is look at his sons and daughter ... they are Dougie Fresh, Zobes, Guod Leboz,  and Dad! They are very successful and when we are together, we laugh at the Dad things that come out of their mouths, we tease Nolan and Brandon, about their shop and "I can fix that" attitude.

Today ... 10 years after laying my amazing husband to rest ... I still celebrate his life, our life, and our family's life. We were so very blessed to call him ours. Ten years ago our hearts broke, but time heals, and now we have scars, beautiful scars of strong, abiding love, to remind each of us of Doug. 

Until soon,
Vickie

Headstone

Hello my family, friends, and peeps!
It's been a long, long time since I've written. Like 3 years and 2 weeks or so! I have so much in my heart and head, I have like 3 or 4 I want to write today but:

• I have so little time to write
• There's so much in my heart, but these days there are others involved in my thoughts and feelings and not always sure how to write it :)
• I often wonder who wants to listen (read) to me ramble
• I have so little time to write!!!!!

So ... to bring you up to speed. 

1. Bill bought us a house in Charles City. We went from 2 houses with seven bedrooms to one house with 6 bedrooms. That's a good one for a post!
2. I moved June 9th, 2017, to Charles City ... that fiasco is another story ... oh yes another post.
3. I have been working for Bill for a couple of years ... un huh ... many a venting could be written
4. I have a new "daughter" ... daughter-in-law ... Nolan got married ... such amazing memories, October of 2018. And he and his beautiful wife, Allison, are expecting in January 2021!
5. Our kids and their successes - So many job changes and board appointments, and starting new business.

Last Difficult Task ... on a long, long journey of to-do's ... Order Doug's Headstone

That's today's topic ... I've been working on this project for a very long time, doing a little bit at a time. Hears some thoughts from my heart:

Headstone for Doug ... a Memorial Monument for Doug ... GRAVEstone ... 

He deserves a headstone. I know this, I know this more than anyone! Doug was an amazing man, and not just because I think so, but the hundreds of people who stood in line to pay their last respects think so. The hundreds of cards and letters we received prove it to us. The friends who all have a Doug story say so. His children KNOW so. So yes, I know he deserves a stone. 

• It's never been a matter of whether or not he "deserves" or needs a headstone. For the first 4 years it was about money. When Doug died, I was making about 16 to 18 thousand dollars a year. Uh huh ... you do the math. Working at Waldorf I never got wealthy, but I did get rich ... rich in the blessings of 3 kids going to private college ... 2 of them almost tuition free. Doug was the bread winner, the bill payer, he supported our family and my money was the extras. The generosity of friends, family, and even strangers with gifts at the time of his death was so so generous. We had very little life insurance. And all I could think about was how am I going to make ends meet? 
• They say the average stone costs $2,000 ... even that seems like a large chunk of change out of my income and savings. After collecting his life insurance, paying for a funeral ... and we didn't spend a ton, but that's over 10 grand also. So to add another $2,000 plus to the budget felt scary.
• Picking one out ... not really what you do when you want to go shopping. 

BUT ... the truest reason, the mental health therapy ... admitting the truth reason ... 

If I buy a stone, if I go to the cemetery and see his marker ... there is no denial. He really, truly, is gone, he is not coming back, and it's taken 8 years for me to get to this point. Don't get me wrong, I've known and I know he is gone. But ... headstones are what we do for our grandparents or parents ... when they are 75 or 80 or 90. It's not what one does for a spouse who is 55 and you (me) just 50.

A year and a half ago Bill and I walked into a monument store here in Charles City. There were stones lined up against the walls and a section or two down the middle. A (I'm sure) kind lady came up to us and asked if she could help us. I wanted to scream at her, nah, just thought we'd stop in and browse. How many people go to a monument store to "shop". Now I know that that is a really childish and snarky reaction to someone doing their job, and doing it well. But my mind was just racing. And when she pointed out sections by cost ... my stomach turned. And I started to sweat just a bit. I'm certain my mental health therapist sister would say I was having a bit of a panic attack. 

All I could think of was the tiny little stone that I could afford to purchase and put on his grave. He deserves the biggest. The one that people walk by and stop and say, "wow, look at that stone." He deserves way more than something you trip over when looking for his resting place. Doug would have wanted an oak tree cut or carved into the shape of a cross, and if I were really honest, he would have wanted something even more simple. An oak stump, sanded, his name burned into it, and some high gloss polish to keep it looking good. 

Bill and I walked out of there, me nearly in tears, telling him that the one I want would be over $5,000. He said, "Well, then buy it." He has asked me many times, "when are you going to order Doug a stone?" The ice fishing "Pout Brothers" all wonder when there will be a stone. Barb asked me if I was going to order him a stone. My kids, especially the oldest has asked me several times, "Mom, when are you getting Dad's stone."

The crazy lady in me wants to scream walk in my shoes ... know what my financial situation is/was ... do you have a clue how expensive they are ... know how I feel. And the reality is my children are more than aware of the loss. The reality is that Bill knows how I feel, he ordered his Jeannie one right away. The reality is that there are friends that go looking for Doug in the cemetery, just for a visit, and have no clue where he is resting. The reality is there are more shoes to walk in than just my own. I have been selfish, I have done denial very well. And this last step, this last chapter in the death of my sweet, amazing husband ... has been extremely difficult. If I were honest, it's been the hardest part.

I pat myself on the back every now and again ... I've weathered this horrid storm pretty darn well. I've been graceful, most of the time; I've remembered my blessings, usually, and I've reached out occasionally. But this final page in this journey has not been one I've wanted to share. For the first year or two, I felt shame in not being able to afford one. It felt private, it felt like it was mine, and it felt like I was his wife and it's my decision, no one else. But in reality it wasn't just me who felt things, who needed this, who waited for this. And to those whom this has hurt, I do apologize deeply. I hope that you never have to walk this journey, not until you are very, very, very old.

I wrote the check, I mailed the contract, and now it's done. It's to be in late summer or fall. It's going to be beautiful, it's going to be a bit unique, and it's going to honor him. After my kids have seen it, I will post a picture, until they are ready, there will be no pictures.

SO ... This man, my husband, the father to our amazing kids, and the friend to so many ... will have a lasting marker, a spot to sit a spell and visit, marking the "myth, the man, the legend" ... never forgotten by those who loved him so.

Until soon,

Vic

Mr. Bill

NEVER PUBLISHED ... Written November 2016 ... It's sat and I've read it a number of times ... it's time for me to publish it. Moving on, moving forward ... it is not easy but it's rewards are numerous. So ... Think back to November of last year ... I had one less grandson, Bill had one more granddog, I was still working for the credit union, and Bill and I were trying to figure out what next ... well we still are!

WRITTEN NOVEMBER 10, 2016:

Four years, six months and one day ...
Tears, sadness, loneness, grief, anger, searching ...
Joy, laughter, peace, blessed and faith ...
Change, new normal, normal and settled ...

Four years, six month and one day ago time stood still. The man I met at 15, dated until I was 18, married when I was 18 (for 28 whole days), had three amazing children with, loved, argued, laughed, leaned on and walked beside for almost 31 years, died. He left us all far to soon. I've talked for four years about all of the blessings I've found through the walk of grief. I've let you in on some of our darkest days. I've been blessed with additions to my family. I've felt the hurts of our children mourning the loss of their rock of Gibraltar.

I've talked about the people who have held us, kept us from going completely crazy, the people who have physically helped to clean out house, shed and garage. I've talked about and shared my feeling of being cheated, my children of being cheated, of feeling like so much was left undone.

My family has made it through a wedding, the birth of an amazing beautiful grandson, the promotions and changes of our children's jobs, the purchase of a first house, and the fix-its that our go to guy would have done. We have celebrated our strengths and achievements, we have weathered set-backs, and we have acclimated to many changes.

What I haven't talked a lot about, what I haven't shared is my new normal. I haven't shared the joys of a new man in my life. I haven't shared the blessing that I've been given. So today ... today I tell you that I've met someone. Two years, eight months ago I met Bill ... we emailed and talked on the phone for over a month before I let him take me to dinner.

My Bill and his family lost their rock of Gibraltar, Bill lost his wife Jeannie. His kids lost their mom, their go to call at the end of the day, their supporter and biggest cheerleader. Bill and I met, talked, and got to know each other because of our similarities. Starting with the loss of the loves of our lives. But we were similar in the fact that we had three kids, he has two daughters and one son; we both have a daughter-in-love; we both have grand-dogs that we loved, we both have one grandson, and we love being surrounded by family.

Bill's and my conversations started with grief and how do you get through month two and three ... how do you move forward. Our conversations turned to how hard it was to see our children grieve the loss of a parent far to young. Our conversations frequently ... frequently moved to faith and why and how God lets this happen. As time has moved on, we talked about where I am 4 and a half years out and where Bill is 2 and a half years out. Yes, feel free to do the math, gasp and carry on about the fact that he dated 3 months after Jeannie passed away, but until you've walked in the shoes of those who have lost, please hold your judgment for someone else. You see, you cannot say what Bill and I have not already said.

Bill and I talk about everything, sometimes we disagree vehemently (politics, bahhhhhh), but mostly we communicate. We talk about grieving the loss of the mother/father of our children. I said to Bill a long time ago, that we are lucky ... very, very lucky, because we can find another love of our life, we can find another spouse, but our children can never have another father or mother. They can have a figure that is respected, loved and treasured, but plain and simply I will never be Jeannie and Bill will never be Doug. We can love each other's children deeply, but I will never be their "mom" and he will never be their "dad".

Bill and I are humbled by the way our children have handled our new journey. Some days I'm certain it would be much easier on all of us if we were just single, if Bill and I both chose to just be alone, but our kids have taken time to get to know the new one in their life. Our kids have taken time to reach out, invite in and get to know the new one in their life. Our kids have accepted this relationship with grace, laughter, and love ... our kids love their parent enough to allow them to find happiness, even if it hurts as that reminder of the one they lost is so very apparent.

Bill and I have 8 kids, 2 grandsons, 4 granddogs, 2 cats, 2 houses, 2 vehicles, more "siblings" than I can count, numerous amazing friends, enough Christmas decorations to decorate the White House, 6 communities to travel to see our children, and if that's not enough, the man has "hangars" to KEEP shit ... yes Debra, I know I have a lot in my basement, but seriously, HANGARS of space!

Bill ... he is educated, he can write eloquently, he laughs loud, loves deeply, ages gracefully (that's my way of telling you he's MUCH older than me), drinks whiskey, runs a business with two locations, soon to be three; thinks deeply, gives freely of himself, thinks of others more than self, is very, very faith filled; he is Catholic, as Catholic as I am Lutheran (and we are ok with that); enjoys a great steak, seeks information, reads, loves his Twins, Vikings, and Nascar, he is a licensed pilot, owns a plane or two, enjoys a good joke, has worked at the same job for 50 years, loves to travel, has raised an amazing family, is devoted to that family; and ordered his first brand new truck, his Colorado that he loves and adores; he loves to give gifts, from jewelry to turquoise coffeemakers, he gives flowers because it's Tuesday, he opens doors, he holds hands, he makes sure that the lady is on the inside of the sidewalk (if you don't know what that means you are very young), he pushes in the ladies chair, he loves to GO, he enjoys a "Sunday drive", and he makes me laugh.

WE ... Bill and I are trying to figure out life. Life would be much easier if we had one less house, one less cat, one less box or two of Christmas decorations, one less box of pictures, and one less room of STUFF. We are happy, we love the others children, we treasure and love deeper than I could imagine our grandsons, we talk ... even about the hard stuff, we know the other had an amazing marriage that ended too soon, we pray together (I even know the Mary prayers), we talk about money and finance, we know the errors made or what we'd have done different in our "previous life" (as Bill calls it), we vacation well together (he drives, I sleep).

It's not to say that Bill doesn't miss Jeannie, or I don't miss Doug. We honor those memories, but if we decide to live in one house, we can only have two people living in that house. We grieve the loss, we have moments where we miss our spouses. He so wishes that his grandson could be held, just once by Grandma Jeannie. I so wish just once my grandson could play catch with Grandpa Doug. But the reality is that that is not going to happen. We honor our spouses by telling our grandsons of their laughter, happiness, quirks, green dinosaurs, sense of humor ... but we also honor our grandsons, children, family and friends, by moving forward, being happy, and living life to the fullest.

So ... Now you know a bit about Bill ... a very dear man who loves me for me and puts up with my antics at quilt stores :)

Until Soon,
Vic

I'm Back

I've missed this outlet immensely ... but the things in my heart and the things I'd think about writing sometimes, well frequently, involve other people, and how do I write my thoughts about others. So I didn't write ... but I think it's been a bad mistake. Writing for those first two years of my widow journey were so helpful, so therapeutic, so enlightening to myself that when I thought I was "better" I stopped. Hmmmmmm not sure that was wise. When I was ready to write it included others like my sweet William, or the two years of illness my sister Barb suffered through and the journey of a caregiver. Or how life has changed ... somethings I've loved, some things I have hated.

So today ... today I am writing about my birthday, July 8. I've never really looked forward to my birthday. As a little girl there were too many years without a birthday cake, cuz it was too hot to heat the house up with the oven. As a little girl sometimes my birthday felt sandwiched into the 4th of July ... we were all together so let's just celebrate it then. As a new wife, married to the man of my dreams, we were too broke for him to send flowers, buy diamonds or jewels, and then that habit stuck. Then things started getting much better ... and then I became a widow.

My kids have always been generous and sweet for my birthday ... they recall the years of me getting a garden weasel, a pocket knife with a light on it, and some other memorable gifts. BUT ... For my birthday in 2013 I received a blue baby sleeper from Brandon and Blair ... that was pretty incredible. Last year Nolan took me shopping to my favorite quilt shop, he paid the bill. April frequently gives me a gift certificate to my favorite online quilt shop, sends flowers, picks out an elegant perfume ... so I am and have always been blessed ... just some times the self centered, I want what I want litte girl comes out.

BIRTHDAYS ... Birthdays with Bill Kyle, my sweet "boy"friend ... he's like a little boy when it comes to giving gifts. He cannot wait. I've gotten some spectacular gifts from him, but like with my kids and family ... it's not really the "gift" so much as the thought and love put with it. So this year, let me tell you about my birthday gift ... it started on:

WEDNESDAY - with a beautiful little box from his favorite jeweler. He couldn't wait until Saturday, he picked it out, he wanted me to have it. So I opened it, a little hesitant, it was such a small square box ... EARRINGS :) I teased him that my birthday wasn't for two more days. He smiled, laughed and said this is it!

THURSDAY - While having lunch with him at work I received a beautiful, beautiful bouquet of flowers ... roses, white double stock, Gerbera daisies, and carnations ... beautiful! I joked with him again and said, "I can't wait for tomorrow's surprise" ... he said there isn't any more sweetie.

FRIDAY - Birthday cake at work, beautifully decorated with flowers ... and ice cream! Surprise #3 ... ... He does this for all of his employees :)

So I told him I could not wait for my real birthday surprise ... he shook his head, and said, "Really, there are no more gifts or surprises."

SATURDAY - My real birthday! First off, my Omaha family of 4 drove home late Friday night ... that was a wonderful surprise! Second ... there was a parade on my birthday (Ok ... so this was for July Jubilee, but it did go right past my house) ... THIRD ... his grandson and son, Liam and Todd, came up for a swimming pool party with my grandson and kids. AND ... AND ... He worked with my kids and surprised me with a great gift ... a family photo shoot, planned and on the calendar in September ... AND ... AND ... AND ... his beautiful girls came to my house and we had a huge "family" birthday dinner. Complete with cake and all. The grandsons, Liam and Wyatt, played baseball with the big "kids" ... Bill and Brandon cooked dinner ... and I just glowed in the joy of being with many of the ones I love most.

Few women find the man of their dreams ... I found mine, shared almost 31 years with him as his wife. In a sudden accident and breath stopping moment he left this world. Two years later I found another. As my sister Barb said, two years ago, "It's not fair that you get to have two." I agree it's not fair, but damn I'm lucky!

Thank you to facebook friends and family for all the birthday love. Thank you to my friends and kids for the wonderful gift, phone calls, texts, and hugs. Thank you to Bill's kids for spending your Saturday night with me. And thank you to sweet William ... it was a glorious birthday. I love you all!

Until soon,
Vickie

Two Years

This morning as I woke there wasn't the instant thought of how long I've been a widow. As I stretched and lay there, I heard the "whistle" of a text message. I picked up my phone and it was a message from my sister, Deb. "Copter 41068 checking in, over!"

So let me tell you about that message. Two years ago on this day she went into traffic control mode ... she "allowed" people into the inner circle of my living room. She protected her little sissy. All without me knowing it. That went on for about four or five days ...

Then she went into hover mode ... she'd pop in, call, text or email me. One night she showed up in her pajamas ... yep. She drove to my house in her jammies, told me she was spending the night. You see she knew I hated the dark, was terrified of the night, and had never in my life truly been alone for longer than a few nights.

And the past two years, or maybe more accurately 22 months she has been in patrol mode. She has the "copter" in the garage, ready to swoop in at a moments notice. Out of the blue my helicopter sister, kind sweet and caring will send a text and say, "Copter 41068, everything ok? Over!" A few times I sent a request to Copter 40168 for a fly in. Even when Deb is far away in the warmth of Florida or the beauty of the Northwest, I know that I can always count on the Copter to help protect me.


My sister Barb has manned the phones ... she calls frequently, is always ready to rescue me if I've locked myself out of my car in Mason City, take care of my cat, "Sig", when I travel, and just visit on a quiet night.

I've never said much about the people in my life the past two years, because I would forget someone, and that would make me feel bad. But as I mention my sisters, this day, cannot go by without talking about Joan. Joan saved me two years ago ... for weeks I saw her every single solitary day. She would drive 14 miles to town, sit and talk or pull up her sleeves and do whatever project was on my mind.

Joan has been a part of going through all of Doug's clothes with me, planting and working on my landscape, painting and scraping the garage, cleaning out 4 of my closets, filling about 6 dumpsters of STUFF, cleaning out my garage, shed and around the yard. I spoke to Joan almost every single day for the first year. Joan called me as she drove by my yard and someone was raking it, she was crying, because she almost stopped to talk to "Doug". It wasn't him, it should have been him, she was so very sad. I often wondered when she "grieved" as she made it her mission to soothe my soul and keep me sane.

Along with filling Dumpsters ... there's so many that lent a hand ... Mark, Cody, Steve, Kari, Pam, Bill, Deb, Brandon, Blair, Nolan, John, Sue, and I'm sure someone else equally important. Mark climbed high into the rafters and drug down "s _ I _" that needed to be tossed. Steve Wagner ... I smile when I think of cleaning out my garden shed with he and Kari. No greater love was there between two women and a man that day. I wonder if Steve is now ready to let me throw the bird feeder and sink? When my Christmas lights didn't work, Mr. Cody Krull came to my rescue this last winter.

My kitchen never lacked for food or being left clean and spotless when Mrs. Pam Divan, the magic kitchen fairy, was around. Never a lack for cookies, yummy turkey, or amazing cinnamon rolls. I think Pam hauled two or three SUV's packed to the brim with "stuff" that I thought I had to keep for 30 years. She took it all with a smile.

On this day I can't help but think of Dave, Craig, Mark, Scott, Joel ... they've gone two years on the ice fishing trip. Every time those men reach for their fishing gear, there has to be a memory of Doug. The ice stands that he created, attached to each of their poles. I love knowing that every time they pull a fish from the ice, they might just smile and think of Doug ... I think they call him, "the

Genius" ... well at least it's stamped permanently on Doug's ice fishing stand :)

Two years ago today ... at this moment in time, April was being drive north to a home forever changed by her dear, sweet friend Lyndsey. Brandon was frantically trying to get home from Arizona, pick up his beautiful fiancé Blair, and drive another 5 hours ... arriving 14 hours after the dreadful phone call. I sit an look at my sofa, the spot where Nolan sat beside his momma in a daze, having been woke up by his Uncle Donnie, finding out the horrid news ... but he sat beside his momma, and for weeks, he was always there, right beside me.

Two years ago today, my house had a revolving door, as person after person ran to my house. I remember Mark standing in my doorway, as I shook my head NO at him, and turned my back. I remember Rachel Olson kneeling near my chair. I remember my Poppie at the dining room table, Pastor Bill on his left, Kali and Paisley on his right. I remember Lori Brekken standing at one of the colonnades in my house, as she watched Dave kneeling at my chair. I remember Scott Bosacker, his gentle voice quietly saying I'm so sorry, and hugging me. I remember brother-in-law Bill so wanting to help, but feeling so helpless. I remember at some point in those two days Roz, Manette and Kay, sitting with me in the front porch. I remember sitting on my front steps talking to Doug's brother Paul. I remember opening my fridge about 6 p.m. or so and almost falling to my knees. I remember Bart, Police Chief Thomas, kneeling in front of me as they explained the facts and details of "what next".

Two years ago today ... Julie, Kathy, Becky, Jane, Darla, Terri, Kathy, Sheila ... began to pray, and months later they didn't take no for an answer as they brought me TLC ... loving me through the new normal. Two years ago today, JB (John Brighton) lost one of his closest and dearest friends. He and Sue are never far, checking on me, helping me, and taking me on a date or two.

Two years ago today, I walked out to the garage, found my husband ... resting in Jesus arms, and I screamed no, no, no. Doug's strength flowed into me, I set about doing what had to be done, and through it all ... he was no longer beside me, but inside me. Those were some long moments as I waited for "help" to arrive. Funny ... but it was my brother who was first on the scene, having heard the page on a friends pager. God does work in the most mysterious ways.

Two years ago today ... time stood still. In the last 26 or so months I've lost my husband, my Daddy, an uncle, four aunts, my sister had a brain aneurysm, my brother-in-law fought a war with cancer, I've changed jobs, I've moved my youngest son twice, I've watched my oldest son marry the love of his life, and they gave me my first grandson. Some very major changes in such a short period of time. Without my kids, my family, and my dear friends, I'm quite certain I'd not be writing this today. I'd be one of my sisters "true" patients, on some form of medication, and unable to cope.

Grief is an every changing emotion. I try not to "control" it, I try really hard to not let it "control" me, and I try extra hard to embrace it and then move forward. One cannot lose someone they cherish and think that it will be easy to replace or have a new normal without them.

Two years later, I'm doing all right. I have been on a date or two with an amazingly kind man. He understands my grief (most of the time). Two years later and I feel alright. I have a "peaceful easy feeling". I am sad some days, I am happy some days, I sob some nights, I regret what he isn't here to see, I have sorrow when I think about how much he would love our life right now.

Two years later, when I look at the smirk on our son, Brandon's, face, I see Doug. Two years later when our daughter, April, talks about the Twins, I hear Doug. Two years later when our youngest son, Nolan, tells a joke I hear Doug. I really truly am one very blessed and lucky woman. Please listen to the Eagles today ... tell your loved ones you love them ...

Thank you for loving me through two years of darkness. You've brought me safely to some sunshine and light.

Until soon,
vic

A Note From My Beautiful Daughter

My beautiful daughter sent me an email today, I got home, opened it up as I was changing after work, read it and let the tears flow. The words below come from her heart ... it's a beautiful heart, just like the beauty she exudes on the outside. Enjoy! April really wanted a picture of her and her daddy with this, but due to technical difficulties I couldn't get one in.

The following from Miss April:

"….2 years…

I turned on the Eagles and thought I would put some words on paper again…. maybe sort out where my heart is….

I can’t say that I have much more knowledge than I did 2 years ago when I first began my new normal without my dad… but I can say that I think I have more perspective…The sudden loss of my dad at age 29 has taught me a lot about life and how to live it and maybe more about appreciation than anything. I’m learning that life is fleeting- and all those times people tell you to live each moment like it’s your last – is stuff of truth.  I cherish moments small and big… and try and find the positive more often than what is wrong or what I don’t agree with. I try and live a life a bit more Dougie like…. well  - maybe with less worry J

I can’t with an honest heart say there have not been moments of sadness and grief…  but more often than not- I feel  a longing. Year one was more about getting thru- making it to the next holiday… the next big moment. Year two has been more about grasping the concept that he is really gone- and that this will be something we will all deal with forever. I miss most: the quiet moments that we shared- the random text message about “Mauer’s smooth swing” or the way he would yell “woo hoo” when the Packers scored a touchdown over the rival Vikings. I miss the cold beers on the deck in the summer talking about work and fishing…. I miss waking up to coffee on the weekends I would spend back in Lake Mills…. And getting to have that one on one time with dad. I miss the beer fairy who would have the fire pit area void of the previous nights shenanigans. I long for his smile and hugs of pure pride.

Those are the things year 2 is about… because finally I get to experience those feelings… I’m not as concerned about making sure we as a family all survive the firsts… My mom likes to share a little April nugget… she knew it was time to worry about her daughter that first year when she colored her blonde locks dark brown/red…. Yep- I did. And it looked good. But when a close friend asked me why I did it – I said  - very matter of factly… “When you can’t control anything else- you can control your hair.” You have to understand… I am as Type A as a person can be.  I fix things. I make it all better. I control. I plan.  My Aunt Debbie has a great story about how I was even planning logistics at my dad’s visitation…. Its what I do. But dammit- I could not control the grief. I could not control that my family was sad. I couldn’t fix it… and so- I fixed whatever I could to feel some sense of control.

But now – its year 2… and that control has changed. I’ve learned to feel… to actually feel the grief – the loss ... to experience it…. because  in those moments – I gain some control again… sounds like I am a lunatic- but when I actually feel the pain and loss- I’m allowing myself to accept that its real – and to be sad and lost for a bit . But then – those moments pass – and they aren’t as difficult as they were 2 years ago.

Most of all… out of all of those things that I miss… I’m just sad that people in my life will never know him… sure- they will hear the stories- but he was a legend… he could tell a joke better than George Carlin… he could build a mean fire… he could fix damn near anything…but really- he could….

I’m going to ask all of you readers to do something similar to that of my request last year… but this time instead of a prayer (which we will happily take too!) I ask that you share a memory or picture on facebook or with your friends about this guy I called dad and most of you called friend…. Keep the memory of him alive…"

From April with love!

until soon,
vic