Three years today...

Can't believe it. Incredible. Where did my old life go? I am content, but teary at the same time??? What in the heck is going on with me??? I don't like this. I hate this.

Yesterday the kids and I watched an old video that had been lost. I found it while cleaning our a drawer. The video was from 1995, and had so much footage of Andy that I had forgotten. Him feeding baby John Henry, wrestling with the kids, etc etc... did that life ever exist? Even the kids have changed. I love them dearly but my babies are gone, never to return.

My present life is good, but so was my old life. But that one is gone. Must keep looking forward. Keep going, keep going....

I had some comfort from a happening the other day:

On 2/22 (222?) the pendelum in my anniversary clock stopped spinning. It resumed spinning the next day. That same day, a car passed me on the road with a message in the back window in large red letters: "2222's ain't NUTHIN HARD!"

I probably will sound crazy, but I smelled Polo cologne very strongly in the living room yesterday. That was what Andy wore more than anything.

Other more subtle things have happened during the past few days. Maybe I am just more aware of things because of the date. Maybe they are messages. I don't know...

But I don't think he has forgotten us. I know I haven't forgotten him.

Andy's Personal day of Infamy... 25 years ago today

Twenty five years ago tomorrow, on February 6, 1980 an event occured that directly or indirectly affected so many of those who read my words.

February 6 of 2005 marks the 25th anniversary of the date Andy was hurt in the accident that left him paralyzed.

This event, tragic though it was, helped shape him into the person that I met and fell in love with. Despite his injury, he had learned over the years how to carry on with his life in strength and dignity. I like to think that it also made ME a better person, having known him and having observed the way he lived his life. Whenever I feel like complaining about getting out of bed in the morning, how hard it is to get to work, my headache, or other every day problems, I try to remember how grateful he was for each day. Although life was often a struggle for him, he did whatever he had to do to accomplish something each day. He lived that way from the day I met him, until he drew his last breath.

I just wanted to post my reflections at the quarter-century mark of Andy's personal "Day of Infamy."

Love,
Stephanie

Surreal Moment

I need to post about a very surreal moment I experienced today.

Dinner table, same. Kitchen, updated, but same. Same curtains, same plant in the window I have had for 20 years. Even the same china!

But family??? I am the only one the same from a similar setting 14 years ago. Two different dogs under the table. 3 different faces at the table. The older kids are grown, I am remarried, Andy is dead.

It was a very, very weird feeling. Not even as much sad as STRANGE.

Does this make any sense?