My Hiatus of Happiness

It's been quite some time since I have written anything (6 months, eek!), but I'm still here!  When I decided to first start a blog, I was stumped on what to call it.  I remember asking a friend, whose opinion I value very much, for her input (she happens to be a blogger AND a widow). "I asked my daughter what she thought and she said 'It sounds like it's always going to be sad'" she told me.  I thought, 'Well, no shit!  It is!'...because I thought that I was always going to be sad.  Anything I would write would be sad.  My world will always be sad.  Lo and behold, I was wrong. 

After losing Danny, I gained some amazing friends who had been through similar tragedies.  While knowing they would always carry sadness in their hearts, I saw happiness in their new lives, post-loss.  I think I felt envious in a way, because I didn't see myself ever getting to that point.  I also learned from them that you never 'move on', you move forward...huge difference!  That was a big fear of mine..being happy again.  It felt like I would somehow be leaving Danny behind.  But there is one thing I know and it's that he would want me to grab life by the balls and live it.  He would want me laughing and enjoying every day, as he did.  I hope that by doing so, I am honoring him at the same time.

Any-who...Erin joined the happy club.  Life's winds swept me away and plopped me in front of someone who I believe I was meant to meet.  I have been smiling and laughing so much that I annoy myself...and it feels good!  I'm starting to understand the whole concept of a heart not healing, but growing.  I love and miss my husband every day, no less than I did before, but I'm able to carry that with me and continue my life; a good, happy life that I deserve.  So, I just wanted to do a quick little catch-up blurb of where I'm at.  Life happened and I got distracted, but now I feel motivated and have an itch to get back to the things I love. I'm focusing on me and being my most happy, healthy, creative version while sorting out all the other adult-ish stuff along the way.  :) 

Intuition: it’s there for a reason, and it’s usually right

Two years ago today, close friends and family went out to give Danny what would be his final send off from his hometown of Abington, MA.  I remember sitting at the bar just crying at the thought of him leaving; I was the girl with tear filled eyes wiping her nose with her sleeve.   I always hated being away from Danny for any period of time, but, I don’t know… this felt different.  I didn’t have the thought that he wasn’t going to ever come home, but I just did not want him to go.  As always, we made the best of it and toasted the night away.   Danny being Danny, he of course lightened the situation and made sure everyone was having fun and not sad at his expense.  “Guys...I’ll be back in March!” I heard him say so many times.

This is the last picture taken of us together from that night...

...and another of some friends and family.

I wish I could have frozen time, because the next day came way too fast.  It’s really hard not knowing when you are going to see your husband again.  With the military, you have a vague idea but you never really know.  We had a couple more hours until he had to take off but I felt like he was already gone.  

Saying goodbye is the absolute worst.  Deployments suck.  September 1^st, the day I was dreading, had arrived.  We all went out to lunch and tried to convince him to stay just a little bit longer.  He had a long drive to North Carolina so he wanted to head out relatively early.  1:00PM rolled around and he started his goodbyes.  Everyone hugged and kissed him goodbye with tears in their eyes.  I felt sick to my stomach and didn’t want to let him go.  He got in his car and we all watched out the window as he drove away.  Something inside me was just like ‘no, that can’t be it’, so I ran as fast as I could out the front door and chased him down screaming his name.  I leaned in the window, told him I loved him, and kissed him goodbye one last time. 

Just like that, a piece of me was gone.  Yet another countdown would begin until I would see him again. 

Intuition: the ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning.

Though I know the strong urge to chase after Danny that day was my intuition telling me that I needed one last kiss, there is something else that will never leave my mind.  I never talked to Danny about the possibility of never seeing him again.  I couldn’t even bare the thought of it, so I definitely didn’t want to talk about it.  He would sometimes bring it up and I would instantly cut him off.  “Shut up! Don’t even say that.  That will never happen.”  

I last talked to Danny on December 22, 2013; we had just celebrated our 4 year wedding anniversary on the 19^th.  I was at the mall, in the shoe department at Macy’s.  It's funny the 'lasts'-you tend to remember every little detail.  I can't remember what I had for lunch today but I know exactly where I was for our last phone call, even though at the time I didn't know it was our last.  Or did I?  We talked about his plans for opening a bar and that he wanted to use the VA loan for a business loan rather than trying to buy a house.  He knew what he wanted and that was his top priority.  We talked about living situations and I begged him to let me move to North Carolina when he returned.  I didn’t want to be away from him any longer than I had to.  He wouldn’t be there much longer, so he didn’t want to waste money moving everything and worried about me settling somewhere new and having to find a job, etc.  I didn’t care.  I just wanted to be with him. 

That night, I sent him a message on Facebook and I said something that I have never once said during our entire 12 year relationship.  I don’t know why I said it, but something inside me felt it. 

Danny never read this and he was killed hours after I sent it...and that kills me.  So as the day approaches of the last time I talked to my husband in person, last kissed him goodbye, last saw his face, I am missing him more than ever. 

The little unexpected things

Things will get easier in time.  Time heals all wounds.  For me, the more time that goes by, the more confusing things become.  The more time that goes by, my heart hurts a little more because it’s been one more day since I have seen or talked to Danny.  Yesterday I said something that kind of just plopped out of my mouth, and I wanted to immediately shove it right back in.  The words a 28 year old should never have to say: “My late husband.”  Ew.  The man at the liquor store (girls gotta have wine!) asked “Do you mind if I ask who the tattoo is of on your arm?” I said “My husband” Pause. “..late husband.”  It seemed like some big pivotal moment for me, a step forward in some way, but totally freaked me out.  I think I’ll avoid that one for a while.

I hate that there has to be a label.  Widow.  Surviving spouse.  Late husband.  Not that they are bad, they are just words to explain situations.  But fuck, those words make things confusing!  Why can't I just be Danny's wife and he be 'my husband' forever?  That was the plan.  I realize that by saying “late” means that the person died; maybe that’s the reason it was so hard and shocking to actually say.  What’s worse is when others refer to Danny as my Ex-husband.  Ouch.  That’s like taking a bullet.  I never got divorced, never separated.  Above all else, I still feel married.  I still wear my wedding rings, and catch myself talking about Danny in the present...but I think that’s ok.  It’s what works for me and that is what is most important.  I’m slowly learning that healing comes from doing what’s best for me, and that's not as easy as one would think.  I have always cared so much about other people’s opinions and I hate that.  Why can't things just 'be'?  I feel like whatever I do, or don’t do, there will always be judgement.  One little unexpected word even caused me to judge myself yesterday.  I guess we just have to be ourselves, do and say what we want or feel is best, and that's that. 

Uncertainty in the bathroom sink

Music.  It can be healing, trigger different emotions and memories; sometimes happy, sometimes sad.  I don’t know what it is about music, but thank god for it.  Seriously!  Sometimes it feels so good to just drive around with your music playing so loud you can feel it vibrating in your lungs.  I used to hate when Danny did that.  But now it's just one of those things that I've taken from him, like, ya know what? Who the hell cares.  Not even gonna turn it down at a red light..sorry car neighbor! 

Other times, when you need a good cry, sit on the floor in the dark and play Traveling Soldier.  If they had a song called Traveling Marine I would play that, so this will have to do. (Sorry Danny).  I know it's a sad song, and I know it will make me cry if I play it... sooo...I play it. 

This morning I woke up and went on with my morning routine; sat in the bathroom sink in front of the mirror and did my makeup. (Not sure why we do this but it’s totally a Vasselian thing…it just works).  I was listening to Pandora on my phone (which if you put in a big bowl makes it louder in case ya didn’t know!) Anyway, a song came on and the lyric hit me. 

“Well I’ve been afraid of changing ‘cause I built my life around you” 

I am afraid…terrified, actually.  I sat there, looking at myself in the mirror, thinking ‘Who the hell are you, now?’ As corny, and probably slightly unhealthy as it sounds, Danny was my whole world.  Every decision I made, I made with him on my mind.  I still do.  

How can I be afraid to change if I’m not even the same person?  Who is Erin without Danny?  I guess that is part of this new life…finding the new me.  

Well, until next time, Stevie. 

The ones left behind

In honor of Gold Star Wives Day, I want to share the words of another military widow.  Her words are not only beautiful, but, real, honest and raw.  When I read this I felt like her words were my own.  This is one reason I am lucky to call her my friend; She knows.  She has been there.  She understands.  She is reassurance that things will be ok, but I don't have to have it all figured out.  Timelines?  They don't exist.  Today is a day to recognize the sacrifice made by the spouses of our fallen.  I have met some of the strongest, most proud, resilient women out there, and I feel lucky to know them.  Whether they be 5, 7, or 14 years out, it doesn't matter.  A bond is a bond and we've sure got a special one.
Below is the realest of real poems that you will probably ever read, written by Jamie Duffy, wife of Army SGT Shane P. Duffy, KIA 6-04-08 OIF.  Jamie is a beautiful person inside and out, an inspiration to so many, and an amazing mother to her 7 year old daughter.  Thank you for letting me share your heart <3

"To know a heart can truly sink,
To hurt
To dream
To survive
To thrive
To fill your heart with love again
To lose
To find
To stumble
To know what it means to cry from your gut
To surprise ourselves
To screw it all up
To figure it all out
To realize we still haven't 
To wish everyone away
Then search high and low 
For someone who might comprehend 
Your pain and your mind and where it has gone or
The time in which you've 
Gone crazy
Come back
Tried hard
Slept it all away
Given up
Recovered
Reinvented
Reimagined
A life you never thought you'd live
A title you'd never thought you'd have
When you wake up in a life you never dreamed of
A life no one dreams of
A reality too cold to talk about
Nevermind feel
But there it is
In your hands
In your heart
In your face
And you can't escape
(I know you tried) 
So you accept
So you struggle
So you cry
So you scream
So you kick and punch and curse the skies
So you fall to your knees and pray you find a way
Back 
To the day before
That last day of life as you'd known it
In all its beautiful
Perfect
Imperfect
Peaceful
Chaotic
Innocent
Splendor
You can see it now
Like looking through a window back in time
Thinking if you could just run fast enough you'd beat the clock and be there again 
With a smile on your face
Love in your heart
Your soulmate, your partner 
Making mistakes, being human
But doing it together
Now this life will not allow it
Your heart will not heal
People will not stop going on with their lives
While yours has stopped forever
But it doesn't stop
You haven't stopped
You haven't realized 
But
You have changed
You have thrived
You have made it to the "other side" of grief
You are strong
You are real
You are a survivor
You are a new you
Like a baby giraffe whose legs are far too long for its body 
(Because you know the analogy works)
You're awkward
And unsteady
Where's the manual?
How do I walk in these widow shoes?
Where do I walk?
Where do I go?
What do I do?
What's the right thing to do?
What if I screw it all up?
Why does everyone care what I do?
Why are so many people watching?
When did my little humble life become a public one?
Why isn't the one person who could help me through this not here anymore?
His opinion mattered
None of these opinions matter
I don't even know my own opinion anymore 
Who am I?
Pressure
Closure
Wonder 
Shut it all out 
Help me. Someone. 
The one
Is gone 
My soul
Hurts
Then you find a group 
Of hurt souls
Of broken hearts
Of funny
Smart 
Resilient
Strong
Compassionate
Beautiful women 
Missing their other halves
Their life loves
Their heroes
Their pasts
Their futures
Their hopes
Their dreams 
Their men who went off to war 
Doing a job most could never bear 
Giving selflessly 
Their lives
Their families
Their future 
And their love
Women left to raise their children in their memory 
Or to realize they will never hold that little piece of their husbands they so wish they had
But they hold onto that flame
That fire 
That life inside 
And they fight and claw their way into a life all are proud of
Shining a light
And offering hope
Wearing their hearts on their sleeves
To be healed
To heal others
To listen
To laugh with
To cry with
To make coffin jokes with
That aren't funny 
But they are
To know
To feel
To share
To reassure
And to hope. 
To share your mistakes with
Your feelings no one else would understand
When you ask a question and somehow 
They all understand
Wait.. You get it? 
You've been there too? 
I'm so sorry
Thank you 
That is what you have all given me.
Thank you for showing me there is no right way
Just your own way
Your own timeline 
Create it 
Embrace it 
And know
That it's okay
It will be okay"

Monday, the 23rd

This post will most likely be the hardest for me to write…the hardest to figure out how to put my feelings into words. When I thought about starting a blog, I knew I wanted it to be about moving forward, and getting through all the hard days, tough times and different experiences along the way.  I didn’t think I would go back to the day that ultimately brought me here, but maybe there is someone reading this that doesn’t know me, doesn’t know Danny, and can relate.  So here I am, an open book. 

I think about Danny every single day, but I try not to think about the day I found out he was killed.   I am only 28 years old and I have already experienced the worst day of my entire life.  Who really wants to revisit that?  The one day I wish I could wash from my brain, is the only day I can actually remember, in detail, from the past 15 months.  15 months ago, to this day, I found out my husband was never coming home: Monday, December 23^rd, 2013.  Like an addict, I have triggers that can be set off; anywhere, at any time, and completely unexpected.  When I hear a gunshot, I go back to that day.  Rain.  Big white vans.  The kitchen counter.  Things that are normal to other people, to me- are reminders of my husband dying.   Going to work on Monday always sucks, so trust me, I knew today was Monday.  I asked my brother in law the simple question, “what’s the date?”  He responded “the 23^rd.”  Monday the 23^rd.  Trigger.

Danny and I got married December 19, 2009, both 23 years old, and I moved to Hawaii, where he was stationed with 2^nd battalion 3^rd Marines, on January 12^th, 2010.  A year-long honeymoon in paradise?  Yes puh-lease.  I’m listening to a Jack Johnson playlist as I write this and it instantly brings me back.  If we could only turn back time!  Gorgeous beaches with crystal clear water…sunshine everyday…palm trees…I’m getting side tracked.  20 degrees and snow in March… Ok I’m back.

 After two deployments, Danny was out of Hawaii (which he was totally fine with) and moving on to Quantico, Virginia, where he became a combat instructor at TBS.  He reassured me that he wouldn’t deploy again for a while, if ever.  We were lucky to have lived together for 3 years without any deployments getting in the way.  Trust me, that is rare for newlyweds in the military.  I was lucky.  Fast forward…luck ran out and he got orders to 1/9 at Camp Lejeune and would be deploying to Afghanistan again.  Since this was happening quickly, we decided it would be easiest, and best for me to live at home with family while he was away.  There was no point in moving to North Carolina to be by myself, not knowing anyone and having to find a temporary job while he was constantly training and leaving a couple months later.  So come September, off he went, and I would be here in Massachusetts waiting for him. 

I started working at Starbucks when I moved to Hawaii, and it turned out to be really convenient for when we had to up and move, because I could easily transfer to another store.  I worked in Virginia, and was able to pick up shifts in Mass for the short time I’d be here.  The morning of December 23, I was scheduled to work at 6am.  My internal alarm clock went off at about 3:00am and I panicked thinking I was late for work.  I have to open today..shit!  I got up, got ready and got to work prepared to open at 4am.  They let me know I was way early (the worst) so  I stayed and hung out in the back room until 6:00 instead of driving home just to turn around and go back.  It was a normal day, kind of slow, and I ended up getting out an hour early.  This made my day because I had a ton of Christmas shopping left to do…procrastination at its finest.  I got home (my parent’s house) and ran inside and went upstairs to change.  I remember coming down the stairs, standing in the kitchen and glancing out the window at the rain.  Right as I looked out the window, I saw two Marines walking up the front lawn.  Blue pants, tan coats and covers.  I knew why they were here.  No, God please no.  After that moment it became a complete out of body experience.  I ran out the front door to meet them by the side, standing in the rain.  I think I asked “Is Danny ok?” three or four times before they even spoke.  “Mrs. Vasselian?”     “Yes, is Danny ok?”  They said “That’s why we’re here… can we go inside?”  Why the fuck aren’t they answering my question.   I brought them inside and told them I needed to put my dogs away and to hold on.  I brought my two dogs into the basement and put them in their crates.  I remember squatting in front of the two crates, holding on to the metal latch.  I didn’t want to get up…I didn’t want to go back upstairs.  This can’t be happening.  This isn’t fucking happening.  Maybe if I stayed down here they would just go away and I would wake up.  They called for me and I remember just looking at them, waiting for them to say something.  Praying they would not say what I knew they were going to say.  The details of their wording at this point is a little foggy, but they informed me that early that morning, Danny had been shot and they were not able to save him.  I remember thinking ‘I can’t go back from this moment.  This happened.  It can’t be undone.  This is happening. Oh my god.’ That morning, as I was waking up for work, my husband was dying. 

One thing I am grateful for that day is the shock my body underwent.  My casualty officer, later on, told me that my face just went pale and I had no expression.  I couldn’t cry.  I couldn’t feel anything.  I was completely numb.  It felt like someone stabbed me in the lungs and it was really hard to breathe.  I was standing by the counter when they told me, and I just leaned over the counter trying to catch my breath and stop shaking.  One of them was rubbing my back.  They told me to take a seat, so I sat down for a second, and stood back up.  I could literally see this happening to myself, but it wasn’t me.  “Why am I not crying?”  He said, “I think you are in shock.”  I just kept looking at them, still waiting for them to take it back…to tell me Danny was hurt but he would be ok, and that they were here to bring me to him.  I asked if Danny’s mother knew and they said that there were two other officers at her house.  I asked if they could drive me over there, so we went outside and I got in the big white van.  I sat in the front seat and had my head in between my legs, trying to catch my breath.  We pulled up to Danny’s house and I ran inside and made my way passed the Marine standing in the hallway.  Besides him, the first person I saw was Danny’s younger sister, Julianne, who happened to be one of my best friends.  I think I just fell into her arms and my tears rushed out.  “Oh, Erin I’m so sorry” she managed to get out through her own sobs.  Seeing her made it real. 

Time doesn't heal all wounds.  My heart hurts just as much today as it did that day.  Can shock last this long?  Some days I still have to convince myself that this really happened; my brain just won’t accept it. Other days, I find myself crying on the kitchen floor.  I guess it’s all part of the process.  I do know that no matter how hard it is, I will come out stronger.  I refuse to be stuck in the rain.  

I am a huge believer in signs.  They say you will get them when you aren't looking for them.  It's hard not to look, when that is all you have left.  Today as I was thinking about writing this blog, I was debating it in my head, not knowing if it would be too much.  I grabbed my phone to text someone, and it was 12:23.  Danny's anniversary date.  So I took that as a little nudge from Danny "go ahead, babe."  I'll take it. 

Birthdays in Heaven

Today is Danny's birthday.  It hurts and is hard to get my fingers to even type the next sentence.  He would have been 29.  It's like taking a knife to the gut.  I know there are more "would have been's" to come..more anniversaries, special days, and future endeavors that he was supposed to experience with me.  I don't know if any of these days are more painful than the other, but man, the birthday hurts. This day represents life and the celebration of turning one year older, but now is a harsh reminder of how short his was cut.  Danny has always been older than me; we were born in the same hospital just 8 months apart.  When my birthday rolled around last year, the last thing I wanted to do was celebrate.  I was turning 28, one year older than my husband ever made it to be.  It was a very strange feeling for me, outliving him in that way.  He will always be 27, and my life here just keeps on going.  I'll continue to get older and it is just weird and not fair. BLA!  End of pity rant.
To make the best of this day, family and friends will gather and celebrate Danny's life.  As much as it sucks that he can't be here, there can always be a positive spin.  Today is Danny's special day, so that is what we will make it- special. We will enjoy each other's company, toast to an unbelievable, one of a kind person, and laugh as he would want us to.
Last year a whole busload of people met at the cemetery to release Chinese paper lanterns into the sky, and it was a beautiful sight.  The sky was dark and the lanterns had a pretty, soft glow as they floated up into the sky until out of sight.  (or until out of neighbor's tree..oops!)  Each lantern filled with hello's, I love you's, I miss you's, and Happy Birthday's.  
Today I'm going to pick up 30 balloons, 29 plus one for good luck, so we can send our wishes up to the birthday boy in Heaven.  As I let go of my balloon, it isn't my hope that Danny will somehow "catch it", but that he will be beside me, smiling and guiding my hand as I release it to him. (and knowing Danny, probably trying to pop my balloon to scare me!)  I hope he can feel how much love is filled in that little balloon.  Happy birthday, my Danny.
"If love could have saved you, then you would have lived forever."  Ain't that the truth!