Society, Beauty, and Body Image, Oh my!

I feel so guilty about posting anything about the want to loose weight or slim down, just because I may not look grossly overweight. Society pushes me to feel guilty for wearing a size small, or if I order a shirt in a medium, stating that it's simply too big. I get ridiculed (as a joke, but it still feels like more than a joke at times) when I'm able to wear stylish skinny jeans or a really cute top that not everyone could pull off.

We are more often than not thinking about this happening only to those who are bigger and over weight. Feeling bad about wearing a large or extra large. Not being able to pull off a skirt or a slim fitting pant. But if you think it only happens to those who weigh more and are bigger... Think again... it happens to petite girls, too.

People tell me all the time, "Gosh I wish I could eat like you and stay so thin." I hear things like, "You're just so thin it's disgusting" and then follow it with a laugh because it's meant as a joke, and as some envy because they wish they could be thin, too. I get told how it must be nice to be so tiny. Comments are made that I shouldn't have to eat a salad for lunch, or eat a healthy lunch because I can certainly eat whatever I want. And then people jokingly (and sometimes seriously) tell me to grab that extra cinnamon roll or piece of cake because I certainly don't have to worry it about it later like they do.

But the fact is, this doesn't come naturally and most of the time I am not this thin. If I am, it's because I'm working my ass off at it, or because I'm really, really sick. In high school I was involved with sports and I was on the dance team. I always always really active. When I was in college I gained a lot of weight. I was nearing 140 pounds at my heaviest and I looked big. I was wearing medium and sometimes large sizes. I wasn't happy with my body. I ate enough calories and fat for 2 or 3 people because of Spencer, I hardly exercised. After he died it was a hard cycle to break. But then just last year I got terrifyingly sick. I dropped weight like it was nothing, going from 135-140 pounds to a measly 111 pounds in just a couple of months. I really didn't have much to lose after that.

When I dropped all of the weight I got SO many compliments about how thin I was. I also got told how I needed to gain weight. Fatten up. Some people told me how good I looked. But all I could see was how frail I had become. I had no muscle mass as it all atrophied away. I was just skin and bones and I looked sick, too. I certainly did not like the way that I looked. I wasn't happy with the rapid weight loss. Getting those extra pounds off may have been nice, however it was far too fast. Losing weight that quickly and as a result of being so sick is not the way I wanted it to happen or the way that it should have happened.

It wasn't until I started gaining some of my muscle mass back and filling out a little bit in my face that I started to become happier with the way that I looked. I didn't look quite as frail. I looked thin, but healthy. I was able to wear clothes and sizes that I haven't been able to wear in many, many years. I was pretty happy with the way things were going.

But when you loose weight so quickly as a result of not being able to eat more than 100-200 calories a day (if I was lucky, and man do I wish I was exaggerating), you gain it back very quickly too. For about a year I gained back a healthy amount of weight. I was able to eat fairly big portions, and I really didn't have to worry about what I ate because my body was still burning off things very quickly as it was still internally fighting against itself burning off a lot of calories and fat. I was weighing in at around 120-125, right where I wanted to be and felt comfortable at. My muscle had come back as well.

But lately I have continued to gain back the weight. I'm healthy now and my body is not fighting against itself as it was when I was sick. It's not taking near the amount of effort to get up in the morning, shower, sit up straight, even breathe. So the amount that I became accustomed to eating to gain my strength and stamina back when I was recovering and on the way to remission is now too much for my body to burn off. And so I'm becoming a little bit bigger around the middle. My face is a little more full than I'd like it to be. I just feel bloated all of the time, my clothes are getting a tad bit tighter and not looking as good as they did at the end of last year, and, once again, I'm definitely feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. Just 5 months ago I was feeling so, so confident. My self image soared. But now it is plummeting again as I'm having to try to figure out what I need to do differently to stave off this unwanted weight gain.

And now that I'm gaining weight again, it's been a little bit harder to accept then it was when I started college and gained the infamous "freshman 15" or 20....

When I was engaged/married and at my heaviest, while it bothered me, it didn't bother me as much as it does now. Spencer made a constant effort to always tell me that I was beautiful. I don't know if a day passed that I didn't hear, in some form, him compliment me and sincerely tell me how beautiful I was, even if I felt like I was looking my worse with no make-up on. That man made me feel beautiful and comfortable in my own skin. Inside and out. As comfortable as I could be. Do you realize how long it's been since I have heard those three words?

You look beautiful. You are beautiful.

Well sadly it's been years since I can recall hearing those words said to my face. I have heard that I am pretty, or that I'm cute, or I look good. But there is something about the word "beautiful" that just really stands out in my mind and leaves a lasting impression on me. Those are words I long to hear. And I know it doesn't really matter if it's from a girl, boy, parents, man, or woman... I'd feel flattered to hear it from anyone. But wouldn't it boost your confidence, too, to hear it specifically from a man? Thought so. It'd just be nice to hear.

I don't have that constant reminder that Spencer always gave me without even thinking about it and it makes it a little bit harder to look at myself in a positive light. To understand that I am beautiful inside AND out no matter how I look.. how much I weigh. How many stretch marks I have. And the list goes on.

I know, most people who look at me may not notice it. You may be sitting there reading this thinking, "She doesn't look big at all! She doesn't need to loose any weight or slim down!" It's been a subtle gain.  But enough that I have noticed. I'm not saying I'm "fat" per say, but I am just not looking how I want to look. Just because I am not very overweight doesn't mean that I don't have any pounds or fat to loose. It's my goal to not only look how I want to look, but also be healthy and feel healthy. A goal that I'm not quite reaching right now as I know that I am not eating very healthy at all, and I feel like I could exercise a lot more to benefit me in so many different ways.

But why do I feel so small when I mention anything about weight loss or slimming down? Why do people feel the need to comment? I just really hate hearing comments such as, "Are you kidding me?! You're so skinny. YOU need to work out more and eat better?" Hinting at the fact that in their eyes they obviously need it more than I do. So, you're telling me that for some reason I can't? Or it is somehow wrong for me to want to slim down a little bit? I just want to feel comfortable in my own skin. And that's OKAY. There isn't anything wrong with that. Please, please don't make me feel bad about it.

It's just really frustrating.

I don't know about you, but I think those of us living with chronic illnesses that cause extreme weight fluctuations tend to be quite self conscious of our bodies. Not only how much we weigh, but the extra fat we gain when we're finally able to eat 3 full meals a day vs. the one Ensure a day that we force ourselves to drink when we're sick. Or when we have to take 60mg of prednisone that makes us balloon up like a chipmunk or whale. We are terribly self conscious of the stretch marks that we develop all over our bodies, thighs, knees, stomach, chest, back, sometimes even chin because of the drastic weight gains and losses over such a short amount of time spanning from weeks to months. We become self conscious of the horrible acne we continue to have even in our adult years. The self consciousness extends when we notice that our hair is thinning and falling out due to medications and malnourishment. These extreme body changes ruin our self image, and in my case it happened at a very young age. It started when I was only 11 - a pre-teen not even in junior high.

I battled major weight changes back and forth all through jr. high and high school. When you're becoming aware of the other girls bodies and the changes that is happening is when mine was changing SO much more than theirs. And in such different ways. Despite your efforts not to, you compare. What is different about my body and theirs? At 12 years old I was asking myself why do I have stretch marks and they don't? Why do I have so much acne and they don't? etc etc. It wasn't fair and it still isn't fair. It just ruined my self image and it's something I've always struggled with. I've very rarely been happy with my body.

So I'm at a point right now where I really want to start eating better, becoming more active, and getting to a size, weight, and muscle mass that I'm comfortable with and proud of. I've been taking more walks and doing a little bit more cardio. My biggest hurdle with that is getting into more a routine with it and not skipping out on 2-3 days at a time. Motivation. And I think my biggest hurdle of all, which I know many can relate to, is eating a little bit healthier and having A LOT better portion control. I'm working my best with it, and I'm trying to incorporate things in slowly so I can get used to them one at a time. It's hard not to get discouraged when I make a slip up... but I'm trying my best to tell myself that tomorrow is a new day and the more I stick with it, the easier it will get.

Staying as thin as I have been doesn't come easily for me, as everyone seems to think it does. As I mentioned before, it happens because I am extremely sick, or because I put in a hell of a lot of effort.

And this time it will be because I'm working my ass off to achieve the body image that I want to have.

Where I want to be

Throughout Jr. High and HS I always knew that I wanted to be a nurse. There was no doubt in my mind that it was what I wanted to do. Growing up with a chronic illness and being around the hospital setting, I knew that I had a lot of empathy and it would be something that I was good at. 

I went to college and immediately declared nursing as my degree without a second thought. The first year of college was tough. I, admittedly, failed my anatomy class and nearly failed my biology class. It was incredibly discouraging and I shed a lot of tears over it. I my advisor didn't advise me very well in the classes that I took together, and so my course load was very difficult. I also was not used to the university classes, and having classes with hundreds of students was new to me. I was used to getting one on one attention definitely didn't understand the concept of how much studying it took to pull off classes like that. 

But I pursued on, knowing that I had a better grasp of what to expect. I knew I'd have to retake those classes over again, but I wasn't about to give up on being a nurse. My second year of college I took classes like physiology and chemistry, and while I did a lot better, I was still left disappointed in the outcome. Finals killed me and dropped my score quite dramatically. But I didn't fail and I passed with an acceptable grade.

My third year of college I finally started to second guess my major. Was nursing really something that I wanted to continue to pursue? I was beyond frustrated with classes, I wasn't having a fun time, and while I loved learning about it, it just wasn't what I expected it to be. I also doubted my ability to get into nursing school. With taking care of Spence, classes and working, I hardly had time for a social life, yet I was told I still needed to volunteer on the side as well as other things. I found that I excelled in classes like writing, family studies, human development, and decided that I would change my path. 

I was very happy declaring a major to be a child life specialist. It's something I had once before considered doing, but never followed up on. I loved my Child Life Specialist when I was in the hospital as a kid and I knew that it would be something I'd love to do! I started classes for that my third year of college and really enjoyed them. I felt comfortable where I was at.

But then Spencer got incredibly ill which forced me to withdraw from classes and school and spend every second of every day with him (which I wouldn't change for the world!) For a short time after his death I still wanted to continue on with that major. But after researching it and talking to several people about it, I started to second guess my decision, again. Though I don't think it was just about whether I would be happy with that as my career, but my whole life as I knew it and had planned it had been changed in the blink of an eye. A whole new world opened up to me that I never had the possibility of considering before. 

For at least a year after Spencer died I felt completely lost. I didn't know what I wanted to go back to school for. I didn't know who I was or who I wanted to become. My identity died with him. Because before I defined myself as Spencer's wife, his caretaker. That's really all I was. And while I was with Spencer, I was completely okay with that. I was comfortable with it and I didn't WANT to have it any other way. I loved being a wife and it was an honor to love and care for him. But when that part of your life disappears, what are you left with, you know?

Getting involved with lab work was a huge step in the right direction for me. Everything fell into place perfectly and almost a year and a half later I couldn't be happier with the career path that I've been taking. I LOVE working in the lab. It is very fascinating for me. I learn something new every day and things are always different. 

I find that I come home from work nearly every day very satisfied and happy. I love the people I meet and get to work with. I love the challenge of drawing blood, even though there are days where it gets very frustrating. I love the science behind everything that we do. I love being able to put two-and-two together with a patients lab results and discover what is going on. Our work in the lab is vital, and it is rewarding. I feel so good about what I do. It is a huge relief to honestly fit in somewhere so well. I know it is where I belong. To KNOW without a doubt in my mind, that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life. It's always changing and always growing. The opportunities and possibilities with lab work are endless. 

I'm excited to go back to school to become a tech. My supervisor and co-workers have expressed multiple times how much they want me to come back to DCH and be a tech there. I don't know what I'm going to do, but it's always nice to be wanted :) I talked with my supervisor the other day during lunch, and while I can't publicly say a few things that made me ecstatic, (I wish I could!!!) I am excited to be able to learn more in the lab! On the slow mornings in the lab where there is little going on and little micro to do, I am going to go back into micro with Karen here and there and do it with her. Learn more about it which I am VERY excited about as microbiology is my favorite! She also said that she'd do some more microscope work with me and that we'd try to get into some manual diffs (counting the cells out through the microscope vs. the analyzer) so I can start being able to identify the different types of cells. :) She already shows me a lot through the microscopes, but half the time I don't really understand what I'm looking at. So I'm looking forward to getting some more experience in the lab before I go back to school. The more I have, the better off I will be! 

But aside from my job, I've done a lot of growing and have discovered a lot about myself. I've finally started to reclaim and shape my identity and while it has been difficult, confusing, and sometimes full of tears, it's been fun creating what kind of woman I am and who I want to be. I've been so happy lately with who I am. I'm still getting comfortable in my own skin and I will always be discovering who I am, but it is nice to have a better idea than I did a year ago. 

I am just honestly so happy. It's been a long time since I've been able to look back at nearly every day with a smile on my face. Since I've been able to honestly say that I love my life. I feel like I now have a lot to look forward to. It may be quite a ways in the distance, but it's there. Tangible, where it wasn't before. 

To know my place in life, what I want to do, who I want to be, and, in general, who I am is a very satisfying thing. 

It's all in a lyric

Have you ever had a moment where a song that you have known and have loved forever suddenly contains so much more depth and meaning that you somehow missed before? That's exactly what happened to me today. This morning as I was driving to work the song My Immortal came on. A couple of lines into the song I could feel the emotion in it. The deep sadness and the pain. It really hit me hard. For the first time my perspective of this song completely changed. I never before really understood the meaning of every single word until now. As the chorus came on, tears welded in my eyes as I related it to my own life.

I'm so tired of being here

Suppressed by all my childish fears

And if you have to leave

I wish that you would just leave

'Cause your presence still lingers here

And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal

This pain is just too real

There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears

And I held your hand through all of these years

But you still have, all of me

You used to captivate me by your resonating light

Now I'm bound by the life you left behind

Your face—it haunts my once pleasant dreams

Your voice—it chased away all the sanity in me

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone

But though you're still with me

I've been alone all along

And really there isn't a whole lot more to say because it's all said right here in these lyrics. This song depicts so much emotion. You can hear the pain through her voice and every note. Very powerful, especially to someone who has been through such a deep and emotional loss.

For the love of Yoga

I have been on a yoga kick for a couple of weeks now, and considering how it makes me feel, I don't think this kick is going to fade away any time soon. Being so sick last year really made my muscles atrophy and I haven't had much strength since then. It's been my goal to increase my flexibility and gain a significant amount of all around, but specifically, core strength. I'd like to get back to at least where I was when I did dance in high school. Ideally I'd really like to exceed that since I'm doing it 5 or 6 days out of the week vs only 1 or 2 days when I was in HS.

I am not at all a fan of cardio, but who is? I think it's related to exercise induced asthma which makes it quite hard for me to exert myself that much. (I need to talk to the doctor about that, but maybe when insurance finally happens for me, HA!) The only type of cardio work out I really enjoy doing is swimming, and around here that is not a possibility. So I decided that I still wanted to do something and figured yoga would be a really good thing for me.

I easily understood why people say that they are addicted to yoga and why they love it so much! From the very first time I did a simple routine I was hooked. It made me feel so open and significantly relaxed. I felt like I could take a fuller breath, my joints weren't as achey, and I felt much more alert. It's amazing how it works!

When I first started I could tell how weak I really was as well as how little flexibility I had. It was almost embarrassing, but I kept telling myself THAT is why I am doing this. I have been doing it for about 2 weeks now and the amount of flexibility that I have gained within that short amount of time is amazing! I have also gained a little bit of strength. I've noticed that I can hold poses longer, and I can do them a lot closer to how they are supposed to be done and not cheating as much as my body limbers up.

The hardest part is to motivate myself to take at least 20 minutes to sit down and do it. Not every day is easy to just do it! But I think what gets me to that point is knowing how amazing I am going to feel after I do it. 20 minutes quickly turns into 30, which sometimes turns into 40. It's easy to lose track of time when I'm caught up in it.

I'm looking forward to increasing the difficulty of it and adding in more. It's great to be able to see, and feel results. Gives me that much more of a push to continue doing it. And I keep thinking that I've already put in 2 weeks, if I stop now I realize how much I will have lost!

So if you've ever thought about doing yoga, I HIGHLY recommend it. These are the videos I have started out with. Start out with "Flexibility and Range of Motion". It's fairly easy. Just do what you're able to do! I have gotten to where I remember the basics to where I'm able to do it without her, because she doesn't hold the poses very long at all. But I really like her, she's calm and shows you how to do it very well. I've mixed and matched a couple of videos to make it work for me. So give it a try - you don't be disappointed!

Confidence Builder

Finally finding a career I want to do for the rest of my life has been life changing for me. Each and every day that I am at my job there is a moment where I have that "Aha Moment" and realize that I am exactly where I want to be in the path to my life-long career. 

I have been feeling more and more comfortable at my job these last couple of months. Instead of running everything by my supervisor, I've learned the things that I can do with my own discretion. I have taken on more responsibility, and I have been learning and successfully performing new skills. It's not often that I feel proud of myself, but right now I certainly do. 

I finally bit the bullet with a co-workers persuasion and decided to start doing rapid streps and influenza screens. I watched them be done a handful of times, but never had the courage to do it myself, being too afraid I would do it right. That I would stick the swab too far up a nose, or not get the right part of the throat during a swab. But as I was told with Strep screens, "If you gag them, you're doing it right" and with Influs "You're just tickling their brain and if they don't hate you after you're done, you did it wrong." Boy are they right! I've now done them several times and I think I've finally got it figured out. I definitely can't be afraid to be mean doing these, and it's something that I really, really hate doing. But I've sucked it up and have volunteered to go them. Something I didn't want to do before!!

I was also pretty uneasy with doing blood cultures on my own. It's difficult to transfer blood into the bottles while keeping pressure on the venipuncture site. I would always either go and just watch, or have someone help me. But once again, I bit the bullet and started volunteering to do them myself. I have successfully done 3 or 4 with no help and I feel like I've done a good job with it.

I have also started to volunteer to go draw ERs that we have. I was always very nervous when it came to people coming through those ER doors. You never know what you're going to encounter. Traumas, breathing problems, heart attacks. It's just scary because you don't know the kind of shape they are going to be in. I would stay behind, answer the phones, do outpatient draws and whatever I could do to help out as long as I didn't draw them. That or I would have a tech come with me as my moral support, or backup. I finally decided that enough was enough and that I needed experience or I wasn't going to get any better with it. My adrenaline really kicks in as I'm walking down the hall to ER and I used to start shaking really badly, which, naturally, makes it really hard to do your job. 

But I have sucked it up, taken a few big deep breaths, and told myself that it's OKAY to take my time. I do have to say that for the most part, I have overcome the ER fear that I used to have. I still do not do well with traumas or things like car crashes, and I have someone either come with me, or go draw themselves, but I'm trying to overcome that as well. 

We have seen a lot of sick kids and they are tough to draw! None of us like it, but a couple weeks ago my supervisor encouraged me to draw a little 3 year old. One of my co-workers went with me, as is needed to support their arm and help with distraction. I ended up missing, but she backed me up and got it. But it was a good experience for me and showed me that I can do it without freaking out. My problem was going to shallow because I used a butterfly needle in the antecube and I'm used to going shallow with butterflies due to being in the hands. But I then drew a 6 year old successfully even though he was super nervous. That's the youngest I've done successfully. We put so much pressure on ourselves to draw those kids and make sure it's a 1 time thing. So much pressure that I often chicken out. But I KNOW I can do it... and that's a huge deal for me. 

My confidence has grown significantly. In the ability I have to do my job, and the confidence that I have in myself. My co-workers believe in me and know I can do it, too, and that plays a huge roll. I've drawn a lot of really difficult patients recently. And I've done it without a problem.. only after sweating it for a few seconds before sticking the needle in their arm. Just praying I've hit the vein that I can't see and can hardly even feel.

Today I had a very, very nice complement. A lady who doesn't normally hand out compliments came up to the lab and asked if my co-worker was there. I told her that he wasn't working today. She responded with, "Well then I don't know if you'll be able to get any blood out of me!"I kind of giggled because a lot of people say that. My co-worker is known for getting some pretty tough sticks when the rest of us can't, or chicken out. He's been doing it a long time and while we are all capable of doing it, he is gutsy and just goes for it. I think that's one reason why he's so successful with his draws. But I digress. She told me, "You get 2 tries. That's absolutely it!" I giggled again and told her before we even got into the draw room that it was okay, we'd take a look and see what I can find. She then looked and me with a straight face and said, "No I'm serious. Only two tries. That's all." My other co-worker was coming back into the lab and heard that conversation. I went back into the lab and she just laughed at me and said, "No pressure at all!" I was a bit nervous, but was going to try anyway. I found one that felt pretty good and decided to go for it. I got it on the first try and after I pulled the needle out and smiled she seriously told me, "You're even better than Mike." That's the best compliment that I've ever received because, as I said, she doesn't give out compliments and he can get just about anyone. Everyone asks for Mike. 

Today I was also able to get a man who never let me draw him before. I've won him over and now he doesn't ask for anyone else when he knows I'm the one that's going to do it. After I was done he told me, "You're just getting pretty good at that." Usually he flinches, a very low pain tolerance, but this time he didn't move an inch. 

I love my job. I love my patients and I love the residents at the home. I just love what I do. It's been a good few weeks and work and I'm looking forward to when I can go back to school, and maybe even come back for a year or two to learn the ropes as a tech. They have all said they really want me to come back after school. It's such a good feeling to be wanted.

Grief Patterns

I have noticed, I guess, somewhat of a pattern in my grief. It seems like there are a few months out of the year where I really miss Spencer. During those months I really feel the loss and I miss him clear down to my core. It's not that I don't miss him daily, because I do, but these months he just consumes nearly every thought.

Year one it was off and on. At times I was numb, and at times I was completely exposed and vulnerable. It came in waves and was different at each moment. Year two, it really hit around December as I approached the first year mark of his death. Things got a little bit better, and then I got terribly sick and I had a rough time around March through May. It got better once I started feeling better. The rest of that second year wasn't terribly bad. I got back to 'normal' and he didn't consume my thoughts.

This year, for some reason, February has really kicked it off. I think a lot of it has to do with all the focus and time I put into writing an article about our love. (Hopefully it will be published soon and I can share with you all.) I delved into things that I haven't thought about for so long. I faced the reality of him being gone.

Then I struggled with the date that marked 26 months of him being gone, 2/11. I don't know exactly why this hit me so hard, but every time I wrote 2/11 down at work, thought about that date, or saw it on the calendar, all I could think about is "Oh, that's the day my husband died." For the most part, I have gotten well passed these monthly reminders (The 11th of the months). I hardly even think that it marks another month gone. But this month it consumed my thoughts. On the 10th every time I thought about it a lump would form in my throat and I just wanted to cry. I was pretty busy at work on the actual day so I didn't think about it all that much, but for the first 2 hours of the day it was tough.  Valentines day quickly approached and while I love the day, I hate what and who it makes me miss. It just added to how much I've been missing my husband.

And unfortunately it hasn't improved too much since then. I have been missing him constantly. Always thinking about him. Sometimes I sit here entranced in a memory of him, replaying it over, and over in my mind. I find myself wishing I could tell him something or wanting so badly to share a memory with him. Wishing that we could have went to all the places we wanted to go and that we could have done all the things that we wanted to do. Wishing I would have handled a situation a little differently or said something more to him.

I just miss him, so much. I miss what we had and what we will never get to have together. I wish there were adequate words to express how much it hurts sometimes. It doesn't often make me cry anymore, but there have been a couple times where I've been brought to tears. I'm not used to that. I don't like feeling so vulnerable. I don't like feeling so alone.

Just last night I was scrolling through my facebook and came across a post in a grief group I am part of on there (which I probably should just leave). Someone posted something saying, "I can't believe that he's gone. Forever." It stopped me in my tracks. Of course I know that Spencer is gone. Dead. But when I think of the finality of it like that, it is literally too much to bare. Maybe that's how I get through. I look at the life I have ahead of me. I think of all the amazing things that I can do with it and what all I can become because of it. I see the potential in my future because I know that I cannot change my past. I don't dwell and sit and think that wow... This is forever. I am never going to get to see my husband again in this life. I will never get to hold his hand again, lay beside him, hear him laugh, watch him breathe. I know this... but when I think of it in that way, it hurts and reduces me to tears. I wish I hadn't have seen that post. But I can't now undo what I have seen. I'm just going to try my best and not think of it in that way.

Sometimes it seems wrong, or that I am living in some kind of made up world that I don't think of the finality of his death. The forever part of things. It's like I'm just pushing aside the reality. But how else am I supposed to keep living my life if I don't do just that? I would be forever crippled by the pain of his loss if I stopped to think of that. I guess it's just whatever keeps me going. It's not that I'm ignoring the "Forever" part of things... it's just that I choose not to think about it.

There is some comfort, a lot actually, that I know there is something out there after death. I can't call myself very religious or strong in my faith right now. I don't go to church, don't read my scriptures, don't pray. I won't get into that muddy mess. But it doesn't stop me from my core belief that there is something more after we die. Will I get to see Spencer again when I die? I don't know. I can only hope that I will be reunited with him again. I can only trust and believe that I will. And sometimes that's what keeps me going.

But forever on this Earth is such a long time without him.

I miss my husband. And lately, it's almost been too much to bare.

Valentines Day

Oh Valentines Day... I'm not going to lie, I really love Valentines Day -- Well at least I did. And really, I still do, I'm just sad that I don't have that special someone to share it with. I have so much love in my heart and I find it so fun to have that extra little excuse to share it. But as so many people have already pointed out, I never did need a specific day with Spencer to show my love. I was always doing sweet little things for him. It was just extra fun to see all the cheesy valentines day gifts I could get for him. We had fun with it.

This year a resident at the Hester Home asked me to be her valentine. She truly is the cutest little lady I've ever met! I go up to the Home and draw blood at least once a week. Mrs. R (as we will call her here), is so sweet to me, no matter how early I wake her up, or how often I have to draw her blood, which is really quite frequently. I know she doesn't like it and she gets frustrated with it, but she is always so kind to me and very sweet. I oftentimes have to wake her up at 6am, but she always shares her smile with me. 

Last week after I took her blood, I gave her a red bandage and told her the color was just right for Valentines Day! She responded with, "Oh! That's right! It's coming up, isn't it?" I told her it was and then she said, "Well, will you be my Valentine?" with a cute little grin. How could I resist?! I giggled and told her that I would love to be her Valentine. She was so excited and proceeded to give me a big hug. So the other day when I was drawing her again, I told her to expect a nice treat from me. She insisted that I didn't get her anything, but I just couldn't help it :) 

I went up to the Home after work and gave her a small container of cookies and a card. They were in the middle of a Valentines Party, but I quietly sneaked in and told her it was waiting for her in her room. She was so thrilled to see me and gave me a hug. I chatted with her a few minutes and went on my way. It really made me feel good and I'm so glad I took the time to do that for her. I don't know her very well, and I don't know if she gets a lot of visitors, but I sure do enjoy seeing her and chatting with her when I'm up there, even if it's just about the weather. I know I become a bit attached to these residents at the home, but they are so nice to me and I really truly enjoy seeing them and spending a few minutes with them when I draw their blood. It's completely worth it to go that extra mile and sit when them an extra moment when they are a little down, or to look at a picture of their family with them, or read a card with them that they have gotten in the mail. They are so excited to share with me when I come. :)

A couple of years ago for Valentines day, the first one I spent without Spence, I picked 5 people to exchange Valentines with. I made cute little owls out of toilet paper rolls. They turned out SO cute. I had a really fun time giving them and it was fun to see what they sent back. Last year I went to visit Spencer's grave and I went to Olive Garden, as we always used to to. 

I'm glad I've found ways each year to make this day special for me. It's tough not having my husband around to share it with, but I enjoy sharing it with other people. I think I'm going to pick back up the exchange with friends next year. I didn't do it this year for some reason, but I think having Mrs. R as my Valentine was the perfect way to have it :)

Even though I don't get to express my love directly to Spencer anymore, our love is still there and it is still very tangible to me. There are a couple of quotes I just love by Mitch Albom that perfectly describe the love between Spence and myself. 

"Death ends a life, not a relationship."

"Lost love is still love, Eddie. It takes a different form, that's all. you can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move around a dance floor. But when those sense weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You dance with it. Life has to end," She said. "Love doesn't." 

And our love will never, ever have an end.