Mother's Day Week and Six Words

The week or so leading up to Mother's Day was a struggle for Millie, and as a result, for me. I'm assuming that the holiday had something to do with it even though Millie expressed it was not the reason. She was quieter than usual during the day, and bedtime became her time to grieve.

For about a week, when I would turn out the lights and tuck them both in, Millie would get a sad look on her face, tell me she missed mommy and start to cry. I told her I missed mommy too, hugged her and cried with her. She would get upset that she wouldn't get to see mommy again on earth and that it would be a long time until she got to see her in heaven. One night she got angry because she realized that I'm older and I get to see mommy sooner. All I could really do was hold her and agree with what she was saying.

One night she got very upset. "When I get older, I won't even remember mommy." I didn't have anything to say. It was horrible. What do you say to that?

Millie asked when she could see her counselor again, so after things calmed down and I tucked the girls in for bed, I went downstairs and put in a call. Luckily, we were able to get an appointment a few days later. During those few days, Millie was doing much better.

I took Millie to her session and waited in the lobby. At the end of the session, I went in with Millie so her counselor could tell me what they talked about and offer a few suggestions we could try at home to try and keep working through things.

The counselor lead Millie a little in trying to get her to restate something in particular they had discussed about mommy. Then Millie said the words "she wants me to be happy." She smiled when she said it and that made me smile. But then the words actually sunk in for me. She does want Millie to be happy. And she wants Emma to be happy. And she wants me to be happy too.

For so many months I've been riding waves of grief, sometimes brutal and sometimes not so intense. But mostly through that time, I'm just riding it out. I can't remember the last time I thought about what Beccee wants for us. Or for me. Once I did think about it, I knew beyond any shadow of any doubt, she wants all three of us to be happy.

Those words have popped into my head several times a day since then. Now, I'm not saying those six words have changed everything, but I will say they have given me a different perspective on my own life lately.

I hope some of you hear that message too.

Saying Nothing

Ron here...

I guess I can stop opening these posts like that. Maybe next time.

With the exception of feeling like I'm going into the thirteenth month of winter, I'm feeling pretty good. Work is great, music projects are going along well and the girls are really doing well. We all had a bout with Bronchitis a few weeks ago that made life difficult for a while, but I really can't complain.

The girls and I took a trip to Lake Havasu Arizona a couple weeks ago to visit my mom and dad, who are doing the snow bird thing now. I'm happy for them. Thirteen months of winter in Wisconsin is too long. We all stayed at my aunt and uncle's house where they have a heated pool and a hot tub. The girls were in heaven. The sun was shining every day. I was in heaven. I learned something very important on this trip. My seven year old Emma is a bigger fan of In N Out than I am.

I still think of Beccee every single day. Probably closer to every hour. But the longer, deeper battles with grief are less frequent and less debilitating overall. There are still times though when it will render me pretty much useless. The girls still talk and ask about Beccee often. Those conversations are mostly filled with smiles and laughs. Mostly. It can still hit me very hard to hear phrases like "when mommy was alive" come out of mu little girls' mouths. It still strikes me as incredibly unfair, but I generally don't get as angry about it, and it doesn't last as long as it used to. I think these are good things, but regardless of my opinion, it is the way things are going.

Jenn and I are still dating.

I just went back and re-read that last sentence and decided to edit the rest of the paragraph. Here's my problem... I'm trying to be very cautious about our relationship, but not in a "keeping my options open" sort of way, or an "I'm not ready to be in a serious relationship" way.

But reading just those words, I can see how someone might interpret it that way. And talking to people who read this blog, I know that happens sometimes.

I am being cautious about our relationship. The point I want to make here though, is I'm cautious about what I SAY about our relationship. First and foremost, I'm cautious about my kids and her kids. I don't want "us" to be the source of hurt for any of them, so I have a pretty serious filter on what I will say to them, around them or around anyone who might ever talk to them, which includes anyone reading this. Hmmm... I haven't really said anything here, and I already feel like I've said too much. I'll leave it at that for now.

Ron

I Don't Feel Good

I'm writing this today sick and in bed. It generally takes a lot to knock me out of commission and spend any significant time in bed apart from sleeping at night. I won't bore you with whining about how crappy I feel or how I wish I could make it to band rehearsal tonight, but as I was climbing into bed after having some chicken soup for dinner (yes, how original), I thought the words "I don't feel good." Well actually, I said them out loud, which totally reminded me of a story.

A few years ago Millie had the flu. She had to be three or four at the time and spent most of the day in bed with a fever. Around early evening, she was feeling a little better and came downstairs to have some food. I don't remember what she ate, but that's not important anyway. After about 15 minutes, she wasn't feeling so well anymore and ran into the bathroom to vomit into the toilet. It was gross. I was holding Millie's hair back as she leaned over the toilet, and Beccee was holding a towel to wipe Millie's face. All of a sudden Millie starts saying "I don't feel good." Actually, it was closer to shouting. She kept repeating over and over "I don't feel good! I don't feel good!", but it seemed every time she said it she emphasized a different word. "I DON'T feel good! I don't feel GOOD!" She actually punched the toilet, she was getting so angry.

I don't say this to be mean, but Beccee and I thought it was the funniest thing we had ever seen. We were both cracking up and trying to hide our laughing from Millie, since she was feeling so bad and it's doubtful she would have appreciated the humor while in the moment. It got so bad, Beccee and I had to take turns leaving the room, regaining our composure and coming back in to comfort our little Millie.

The reason I decided to recall this story here is because it was a really good memory of Beccee and it made me smile and laugh without crying. At least at first without crying.

Ron

I'm sick. Blah!

Ron here...

So I got hit with something horrible last week. Maybe strep, but at this point it feels more like pnemonia or bronchitis. Fever, chills, aches, stuffed head and congested chest. Good times. Blah!

Unfortunately for me, the timing of this was not so great. I was scheduled to play and sing at church Saturday night and Sunday, and I also agreed (happily) to do a charity acoustic gig on Saturday night for the Y Strong Kids Foundation. Under healthy circumstances, it would probably be pushing it a little to do church and a gig, but being that I was this ill, it was definitely feeling like a challenge.

I don't say any of this to garner your sympathy though.

Saturday afternoon as I'm getting ready to take the girls over to grandma and grandpa's for a play date and sleepover so daddy can play music, I was starting to get very concerned about being physically able to play and sing. My voice was rough, my head stuffed and my chest beginning to feel constricted. I had the girls' stuff packed and the car was warming up. They had gotten into their boots and were getting their jackets on. As is pretty typical, we were running a little late, and I was getting frustrated (also pretty typical). I told them how we needed to get going so I could make it back home in time to rest because I was feeling crappy and wasn't sure how I would be able to sing over the next 24 hours and that I really wanted to lie down. Wah.

Then Millie looked at me and said "Daddy, just do it how Mommy did. She would sing the words, and then pause and breathe where there's no words."

I know she didn't mean to make me think what I did next, but for the rest of the weekend, all I could remember was that my wife sang with lung cancer. Sometimes with chemo running through her veins at the same time. And it wasn't like she mustered up the energy to pull it off as a one-time trick. She did it several times after she was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer (which her doctor later said should be reclassifed as stage 4, but Beccee wouldn't let him do it). After her diagnosis, she sang at the Love for Life benefit in the park, the Eric Benet concert, a local community prayer event, the studio recording for the song Love for Life, live on the radio (in the morning!), and at Crosspoint Community Church a few days before her entire right lung was removed because the tumors had advanced too far to save even a single lobe.

And I'm gonna feel sorry for myself because I have to sing with the sniffles?

I decided to go with Millie's idea.

I paused and breathed.

The things I think when I'm given time to think

Ron here...

Okay, so I know I have not been writing regularly for quite some time now. Yes, working full-time while being a single father, who also plays in an acoustic duo and a rock band on weekends takes a lot of time, but truth be told, if I really wanted to write, I'd make time. I guess I really have not wanted to.

Well, at this particular moment, I want to. I'm out in California for a work/church conference. Between traveling and breaking off on my own, I seem to have had more time, or at least longer segments of time, to think. It has allowed me to think about where my life is at, compare where I was a year ago, two years ago, and to think about where it is going. There was also one speaker at the conference in particular that finished about five minutes ago that seems to have particularly energized me.

He talked about transforming your dream into your dream job. I love what I get to do at church, but if I'm honest, there are other things, bigger things I dream about other than handling technical things like video and computers, and being a part-time worship leader. Dreams like writing, recording and publishing my music. Dreams like finishing my deceased wife's novel. Dreams like taking her blog, that I added onto, and turning it into a book.

Beccee and I used to live in Los Angeles, which is about 50 miles from where this conference is taking place. I was fortunate enough to break away from our group yesterday and visit my brother's house. I'm planning on getting up there tonight too. Beccee and I lived in that same house for about 6 years, so going back to visit it is almost like having a real, living version of a photo album for that period in my life. For that period in our lives. It gets me thinking in a different way. The weather, the sunshine, the houses, the expensive cars, the way people do things, the way people talk, even the way the air smells is so attractive. Perhaps coming out in February after a pretty brutal winter has something to do with it.

I got a text yesterday from someone asking me if being out here made me homesick. My answer was "kind of, yes." Then I thought about how I had answered the question and it seemed strange that I could be homesick for LA. I was born and raised in Wisconsin, lived in Phoenix for a couple years, LA for 6 and back to Wisconsin for the last 6 years. I never thought of LA as "home", but the word "homesick" sure did seem appropriate. Now before anyone in my circle of friends and family starts to freak out, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Just thinking out loud, or on paper here.

So, a little bit about life back in the real world in Wisconsin. The girls are doing great. They are doing well at school and are involved in a few activities outside of school that they enjoy. We still talk about Beccee pretty often. Her name comes up pretty much every day. Sometimes it brings tears, but most of the time it doesn't. I stopped keeping track of whether or not I cry everyday about Beccee. If it's not daily, I'd say it's still close. The waves of grief have further spaces between them, but when they hit, they can still be as devastating as ever. It's fascinating how something as simple as seeing a picture, stumbling across and old video, an email, hearing a comment from the girls, finding some random object in the closet, just about anything, really, can set off a chain reaction that will bring me to the point of sobbing on the floor in an instant. Those moments still suck.

The other day Millie was having a rough day, missing mommy. She asked me to put on the video of Beccee singing at the Eric Benet concert. It really is a blessing how many audio recordings, videos and pictures we have of Beccee. So, I put the DVD in and it starts with Beccee's introduction of all 20 or so musicians on the stage at the time. As she was talking, Millie looked over at me and said "that doesn't sound like mommy's voice." My heart sank at the realization that her memory of Beccee is already to starting to fade. I have known all along that eventually their memories will fade and to be honest, that is one of the things about losing Beccee that angers me the most. I know that in a way it is a blessing and that it probably helps them deal with the pain and trauma of their mom dying, but it is frustrating and painful to watch.

Things are still going well with Jenn, the woman I've been dating since last July. It's interesting to see how my girls and her kids are reacting to us being together. In case you don't recall (I know it's been a while since I've written about this), Jenn lost her husband to cancer the day after Beccee died. Her kids lost their daddy the day after my girls lost their mommy. We have gotten to the point where we let our kids intermingle a couple times a month or so. They laugh and play and get along great. It's pretty cool to see.

That's about all I have for now. Thanks for still thinking of us and praying for us. God bless you all!

One year down...

Ron here... Still.

It still hurts. A lot sometimes. That wave analogy is pretty accurate. Only it's not like a wave that continues to grow weaker. It's far more unpredictable. There are times I'm hit with a memory and it has me reeling for hours or days. It could be something I haven't thought about since it happened and in a moment, everything goes to this dark place. This happened at church, where I happen to work now.

It was a few weeks before Christmas and I was involved in getting the stage construction taken care of. I was standing alone in the sanctuary working on the best way to construct a stand to tack thank you notes to, when I encountered vivid memories of Beccee's casket at the front of the stage. This lead to memories of standing in front of that casket holding the girls up as they said their last goodbyes and placed cards and flowers inside. Next came visions of standing in the reception line. It took a couple of days to come out of that funk. My point is that overall the waves get gentler with time, but occasionally a really big one comes and slams me into a rock.

The three of us are doing okay. The girls are doing well in school and I think I'm doing well at my new job at church. My biggest struggle is trying to balance my job with the girls. I think it's all going to work out. Things are going well with my girlfriend, Jenn. I don't think I'm shocking anyone by saying the last year has been really tough at times. What else would you expect? However, along the road of grieving for a year, a few other things happened...

I have more real friends than ever before. Friends that I could call anytime, day or night and they would be there for me. Maybe they were there before, but if they were, I didn't notice or give a damn. I have met a wonderful, beautiful, awesome woman who is now one of my best friends and a lot more. I finally got a job that I love. One that I feel like I'm doing what God wants me to do. No offense to Tommy Hilfiger, but I'm quite sure building their stores really wasn't what He had in mind for me. I've become a better musician and a better singer. My faith has strengthened. And not because of some emotional need to fill a void, but because I've sought to know the truth and the evidence convinces me of the real Truth.

Frankly, I'm not much in the mood to write tonight. So, I'll defer to someone with far more skill than I. I read this to the girls at bedtime from Beccee's journal.

"Feb 2, 2005

My angel babies:

Sometimes I worry about you so much. There are so many things & people in this world I worry about - try to protect you from. I know God has his plan for all of us - and everything is really in His hands, not mine, but I still worry. I so want everything in this world to be perfect for you. I want the sun to shine and money to grow on trees, and men to be kind to you - and life to be easy. I obviously know I cannot control everything - I hope I don't become a controlling hawk-eyed mommy - but I have such overwhelming passion to hide you both away and never let you out in this crazy, dangerous world. It's my job. It's all I think about. Are you too close to the stove, can you fall off the couch, if you do, what will you hit your head on? Are your fingers clear of doors and drawers? I don't hover, and I only smoother a little bit - but I am all consumed with your well being and safety. I still wake up a few times every night and cover your little bodies - tucking you in. Removing bottles and such (Ron here - the girls got a kick out of that) - patting your bottoms and making sure you're still breathing. I know when you are both mommies you'll do the same. I have so many dreams and hopes for you. I find myself staring into your eyes and searching for the women you are going to become. I cannot wait to know you both as adults. Please be patient with me if I make mistakes along the way. I'm winging it. I promise to do my best, to listen to you - but to protect you. Even if you don't agree with me at the time - I don't want you to ever feel like I'm making decisions just to bug you or control you. I will always be considering your safety and your well being. I love you with all of my heart and soul. I always and forever will. I would lay down my life for both of you.

- Mommy"

Working

Ron here...

I had several gentle reminders today that seemed to be telling me it was about time to give you all an update. I happened to run into one of Beccee's friends at Starbucks in Delafield this afternoon, I saw a FaceBook message from another of Beccee's friends about a get together, and I stumbled upon a text from yet another of Beccee's friends from January where she talked about how important it was for her to be able to keep up on me and the girls through the blog. God whispering.

As of October 1, I started working full-time at Crosspoint Community Church. My areas of responsibility fall under the umbrella (ella, ella, ay, ay - sorry, I can't help it) of technology. Shooting video, editing, making podcasts available, new media software, Internet ministries, tying in social networking to the church... things like that. I'm also still a worship leader, but it's not an official work responsibility. Although juggling a work schedule and taking care of the girls is a challenge, overall things are going great and I feel like I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing for a living. No offense, Tommy Hilfiger. The girls are very happy for me too. Mostly because they get to play with Molly Spransy more and the sound guy's dog, Boscoe. Oh, and they think I make a lot of money and they will be able to buy an RV. Yeah, right.

Millie is doing well. She is a star student at school and is excelling at most things she tries. She still has bad days or moments where she doesn't quite know how to tell me whats wrong, but that she misses mommy. Leaving the girls for a sleepover at grandma and grandpa's can still be an anxious and painful experience for Millie. But in the end, she always sucks it up and does what she has to. Sometimes it reminds me of Millie's birthday party at the hospital last year. Millie was sad and crying and hanging on Beccee telling her she wanted her to come home. Beccee told her to "buck up, kiddo." She does. A lot. Millie loves to draw pictures for me. They almost always say "I love you" on them and she tells that to me at least a half dozen times a day if not more.

Emma is having a much better time at school this year. I think her teacher is a better fit for her and it is making all the difference in the world. Emma still struggles with her attention, focus and social skills. I'm trying to help her as best I can, but it can be very frustrating. Her brain works differently than anyone else I know and it makes it difficult to communicate with her at times. It can be very frustrating for her too. Animals are still a big interest to Emma, but over the last couple months, she has really mixed things up with her stuffed animals. For a couple of years, her life revolved around Kinsey. Now days, she switches to a different animal or two every few days.

At night time, Emma prays for God to watch over Frankie and asks mommy to take care of Sparky and Matthew. Frankie is the fish she caught with her bare hands last summer. Emma is still concerned that he is safe with his family. Sparky was a class pet guinea pig that died. Emma asks mommy to clean his cage. Matthew is the name of a baby boy who was still born a month ago. We met his family at Kyle's Korner and Emma and Millie play with Matthew's sisters that are 4 and 5.

I'm still dating the woman I mentioned a while back. It's been several months now and it's going really well. We smile and laugh a lot when we're together and often when we aren't thanks to our smartphones. She is one of the sweetest people I have ever met and I thank God for putting us together. I don't know what will happen in the future and frankly neither one of us is very concerned about it. The word girlfriend and the concept of having one is nowhere near as strange as it was a few months ago. That in and of itself is strange in a different way.

The girls are now aware that I'm dating and have met the woman and her kids. We've all gotten together several times - play dates, corn maze, trick or treating - and everyone gets along great. My therapist has reminded me to be cautious about interacting with each others' families. If things end up not working out, it could be devastating to all the kids. I try to keep that in mind and balance it with the fact that we are in each others' lives right now. I also think it's good for the kids to know other kids that have lost a parent. Man, this stuff isn't easy.

I finally had my first (and only) day without crying. I went on a trip to Chicago with the church for a short creative team retreat. The morning consisted of getting the girls ready and off to school. Our trip started immediately after that and I was so busy the entire day I never really had time to be alone in my thoughts. By the time I went to bed and had that moment, I was too exhausted to think about anything.

Although I have at least one painful, tear-filled moment daily, when I compare my days now to the first few months this year, the intensity is mostly less. Mostly. The start of November was rough. Last year, Halloween weekend was the last time Beccee and I and the girls had what you could call a normal time together. It was Beccee's last time singing. Ever. It was at church and I vividly remember standing stage right while she sang. I was looking down at the floor mostly and coaching myself through to keep from balling. After church, we (and by "we" I mean Beccee) got the girls ready for trick or treating and we walked the neighborhood together for the last time as a family. I'm hopeful that one day those types of memories will bring a smile to my face. I'm not at that point yet.

Last year November 3, Beccee had her right lung removed. Shortly after she was released to come home, we had a scare where she couldn't breathe well and I took her to the ER one evening. I was driving the mini-van and was starting to freak out that something bad was going to happen. I was speeding and figured if a cop wanted to pull me over, I had a pretty good excuse. She made me slow down and told me it was going to be alright. I remember Thanksgiving last year with Beccee and thinking she was doing way more than she should have been. I remember how by the end of that weekend she was in so much pain she'd be in the hospital a couple days later. Those are just a few of my November memories. I don't even want to get into how much I'm dreading reliving the nightmare that is December. Thank God the girls don't see it that way. They are still very excited about Millie's birthday and Christmas. I'd just as soon go to sleep tonight and wake up in February. Then again, if you're going to hibernate, might as well wake up in May.

All three of us are still doing regular therapy separately. We also attend Kyle's Korner twice a month. The kids meet with other kids in similar situations while the adults meet together. The girls love it. As for me... the girls love it.

Thank you all for your continued prayers. We're still doing okay.

Ron

Let's Get the Band Back Together

Ron here...

Frankly, I feel a little strange recounting the last few days, but I know it's important to a lot of people, so here it goes...

This week for me was mostly about playing in the worship band. Tuesday, Tim Spransy and I finally nailed down the set list and we scrambled to figure out keys and get charts ready. We normally try to get those done much earlier, but life happens sometimes. We rehearsed with the full band on Wednesday night. I felt good going into the rehearsal since I had spent quite a bit of time for two days learning the songs. A big chunk of that time I focused on Maybe I'm Amazed. I studied MacCartney's singing approach to the song and tried to reflect his style as best I could. MacCartney does not sing very loud on the recording. His high parts aren't full on falsetto like Roy Orbison, but his head voice is far from full out screaming. It was a big departure from my normal singing style, which is pretty loud. I actually enjoyed learning it that way because I felt like I was stretching myself trying something new as a singer. After the first run through of it on Wednesday night however, it was not working. Not even close. I decided to do it full out, pretty much on the brink of screaming at times. It was better, but the whole thing was pretty rough since I had not rehearsed singing it this way.

I normally don't practice the worship set on Thursday or Friday to give myself a break, and I stayed true to that this week.

Friday night, I brought the girls over to Mike and Carol's for a sleepover with their cousins who were in from Minnesota. They were so excited and I was glad to get a break for the weekend knowing how much time I'd be devoting to the worship music. On our way over to the house, I got a text from a friend about another friend. His wife was in the hospital with complications during surgery to remove tumors. After getting the girls setup for the night, the first friend and I went to the hospital to pay a visit. It was a strange experience, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I left hoping our visit had helped in even the slightest way, and I later read a message that made me believe it did. There were lots of thoughts that went through my head during that visit, but the one that stands out the most was when I was standing in the hall with the friend I went with and the one who's wife was in ICU. The husband was giving us an update when we heard a strange noise from down the hall and he pretty much stopped in mid-sentence to check on his wife. It turned out the noise didn't have anything to do with her, but in that moment I vividly recalled being in the hospital with Beccee and doing the same thing. There is this hyper-awareness you get into and any little noise or movement can make you run down the hall or shoot up out of your bed. It's almost a sense of panic, but not quite there. Then again, maybe it is panic, but you're in that state for so long that you can't recognize it for what it is. Anyway, our visit was pretty short and we prayed together and I felt like I had done whatever it was I was supposed to do.

Later that night I met up with another friend to see Marcell play in Pewaukee. I didn't mention my earlier hospital visit to this friend because I really wanted to just hang out and have a good time, and I knew that story wouldn't be conducive to that goal. The rest of the night was a lot of fun and I got home late. Okay, really late. Despite the hour, I had a surplus of energy that evidently wanted to be released in the form of grieving. There is something about being home alone knowing I won't be interrupted by the girls and knowing that I won't wake them up that seems to lift certain limits on how intense my emotion will get. I was really upset for a little while, but eventually went to sleep. I know there are a lot of people thinking right now that I could/should have called them, but sometimes I have to go through this stuff myself. This was one of those times.

My voice was feeling rough on Saturday. Since the girls weren't around, I was free to go over the songs all day. I reworked how I was singing Maybe I'm Amazed and I was feeling really good about it. Saturday's afternoon band rehearsal went really well with the first four songs and then we got to Maybe I'm Amazed. The first time through, the band sounded great, but I was horrible. I could actually sense the concern of pretty much everyone in the room. I even briefly thought about asking to make a key change, but I knew it was too late for that. While we were on a short break, I prayed for help pulling the song together. When we got back from our break, we immediately tried it again and this time was much better and I got a little confidence back. When we played it for the 6 PM service, my voice cracked a bit, but it wasn't bad. I thanked God for His help while I drove out of the parking lot.

I attended Carol's birthday party in Pewaukee and visited with the girls for a while. Getting Millie settled and in bed was tough because she didn't want me to leave. We finally agreed on me tucking her into bed one last time and me promising that I would not leave the house until she was asleep. This was a perfectly acceptable compromise for her.

My plan was to go home, maybe watch a movie and get to bed early. Earlier than Friday anyway. Instead of watching a movie, I came up with the bright idea of watching the video Beccee left for the girls in case she died. It's about 30 minutes in length. Watching it feels like much longer and much shorter both at the same time. I had trouble even looking at the screen most of the time and I got really upset again, but I kept hearing this little voice inside my head telling me not to take it too far and do any more damage to my voice. It was actually kind of funny. Eventually, I calmed down and did watch a Will Ferrel movie. I fell asleep after 15 minutes.

I got up fairly early Sunday morning knowing I was going to need some time to warm up vocally. My voice was pretty rough from the previous day or two, but overall, I felt pretty good. I ran through things on my guitar first and sang in the car on my way in. Then I prayed again.

The beginning of the worship set went really well. Becky Sharpe sounded awesome as she usually does. Tim's e-bow was sweet and the rest of his playing right on the money. Brandon, who is a pro on drums, was in the pocket along with John Wheeler on bass, another pro. Brenda on keys was her typical wonderful self. Four songs in and we came to Maybe I'm Amazed.

The first verse is a little nerve-racking, because it's so naked. Piano and vocal. But by the end of it, I felt okay. The chorus is tougher though. I felt my voice cracking, but it was mostly holding together and for whatever reason (see that part earlier where I prayed), I wasn't worried. From there, I didn't think too much about anything and just played and sang the song. It was really fun, especially during Tim's guitar solo where I get to palm-mute the rhythm part through my modeled Mesa Boogie amp. Mmmmm... crunchy.

When the song ended, I was glad that it had went well and I felt calm. However, the way the congregation reacted with their applause triggered a wave of emotion in me, and I as soon as I got back stage, I lost it and started to cry. Humbled and overwhelmed, I pulled it together after a few minutes and kept it together the rest of the day.

Please say a prayer for my friend with cancer who is in the hospital for surgery. She needs your prayers for healing, peace and strength. Her family needs your prayers for peace, strength and comfort in Jesus' name.

Thank you,

Ron

The Dreams Are Back

The dreams are back.

Beccee and I were separated again. We were outside and she was coming to pick up the girls. She was talking to her brother Chip about meeting up later for lunch. She was going to pick up a pizza. Without even looking at me she started to walk away. I said "that's it? We can't even talk about this?" I can't remember if she responded or not, but either way, that was the end of it and I woke up shortly after.

About an hour later, the girls were playing in the living room downstairs while I was upstairs putting some clothes away in their room. Our morning routine went pretty well and they were dressed and ready and had some extra time. As I finished hanging some things in the closet and shut the door, a snow globe on a bookshelf just behind the door started playing music. I was about two feet away from it and it was just for a couple seconds, but it definitely happened. I remember thinking that the door shutting must have triggered it. Then I thought about it again. Now, I've never been one to believe in the paranormal, but it was nice to think for a moment that maybe it was Beccee saying good morning. Ten seconds later, I walked out of their room into my bedroom and I thought I heard a piano playing the exact same chord the snow globe had ended on. I stood there asking myself whether I had really heard it when I realized the girls were now playing the piano downstairs.

I told Emma and Millie what had happened and we all agreed that it was mommy saying good morning to us.

Just a reminder about the Fight for Air Climb fundraiser on March 20. Beccee's Y-chick friends have a group doing this in honor of Beccee. Their group is called "The Y Chicks Love Beccee". Sara Smith is also planning on doing this. I have not decided if I'll participate yet.

http://www.active.com/fitness/milwaukee-wi/fight-for-air-climb-milwaukee-2010

One more reminder. I'm back playing at Crosspoint Community Church this weekend. Terry will be speaking and we have a great band line-up with some really good songs, including one by Paul McCartney. If you want to know which one, you'll have to be there Saturday at 6 pm, or Sunday at 9:15 am or 11 am.

A Really Tough One to Read

Ron here...

... sort of.

I stumbled on this entry in Beccee's mommy journal this morning. Consider yourself warned as you might find yourself getting very emotional reading this.

Thursday, Nov 2nd, 2006

To My Girls:

Mommy, Nana and Aunty Jennie are on a plane waiting to take off on a weekend to NYC. I'm nervous - I don't like to fly, even though I know everything will be fine, i'm still such a fatalist when I fly. You came in to the terminal to say bye-bye and I hated to see you gallop away from me with daddy to say goodbye.

A lot has gone on since I last wrote to you. We've been enjoying fall - going to the YMCA again - playing hide and seek with Daddy.

You're both so tall! Completely potty-trained. Sassy. Gorgeous!

Nana's sister, Aunt Cheryl died last month. She was young, 54. She died during recovery from anesthesia, a knee surgery. The hospital probably screwed-up - it was very sad. Nana was very sad.

It made me think a lot about where we all are and what would happen if I died. Would you remember me? Would I be missed? Would I leave a ripple in my time? Would my funeral be so sad - or happy? So, as morbid as this seems, and as "ever the hostess" I can be - I want a few things in writing to be followed through as best as possible.

Please let my funeral be all about music and memories and photos and poetry.

Ask my friends to sing and play.

I would love Amy Colonna to read or write a poem.

Tell Lisa Colonna that it's okay to laugh. She gets nervous laughter at inappropriate times.

I know I will live to be 90 so none of this should matter. But in my own crazy mind - I feel better getting it off my chest and saying these things.

Play lots of: Nina Simone, Amy Grant, Earth Wind & Fire, Stevie Wonder, Hoobastank, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Prince, Allanis, Keith Green, Linda Perry, Luther Vandross.

Tell loud stories about my crazy life, laugh loud, cry loud. Kiss your daddy a lot.

Toast each other and your loved ones with excellent red wine and set aside a glass for me.

I want music with a mix of all my favorites playing at the church/funeral home and party at all times.

(The entry cut off there. It was probably time for departure.)

Emma Gets a Little Help

Ron here...

I know I don't need to start these updates with that statement, but I'm not ready to stop yet. I'm not ready to take off my wedding ring, or my Love for Life wristband yet either. I still write "Ron and Rebecca Kujawa" on the offering envelope at church too.

On Friday night, I dropped off the girls for a sleepover at Aunt Ruth and Uncle Kevin's house. Mill started getting upset as I was getting ready to leave. She wanted to sleep over, but she wanted me to stay overnight too. After a brief discussion, I told her she should have dinner and hang out for awhile and if she was still feeling sad later on, she could call me on the phone. As I made my way to the door, she was starting to cry and get that sad look on her face that I've gotten used to seeing. She didn't break down though. She hugged and kissed me while she was fighting back her tears, but she let me go without causing a scene. I know it can't be easy for her, especially with Beccee gone now, but she let me go anyway. As I was driving home, I realized how strong she is becoming. You can see in her eyes how painful some of these things are for her, but she sucks it up and does it anyway.

When we had Millie's birthday party at the hospital, there was a point where Millie got really sad and was hanging on Beccee. Millie told Beccee she was sad and that she wanted her to come home. Beccee's reply was "buck up, kiddo." She's bucking up every single day.

Emma and I got ready to do her homework last night, but just as we started, Beccee's sister Meg called. I asked Emma to get started on her reading, because she's pretty good doing that on her own, and I went into the living room to talk on the phone. Emma had two books to read before she got to her math homework, which was four blank clocks with a time written under them. She was supposed to draw in the clock hands to indicate the correct time. She usually needs a little help with that kind of assignment, and since one of the problems was 10:15, I knew she'd need some assistance. Well, I lost track of time talking to Meg (hmmmm... sounds like someone I know) and Emma comes walking into the living room with her math homework. It was already done and her answers were completely right! I was amazed. Emma just had a big smile on her face and said that mommy helped her do her homework.

Ron

PS I'm playing and singing at church this weekend. See you there. Crosspoint Community Church in Oconomowoc.

PPS(?) Fight for Air is coming up on March 20. It is a fundraiser for the American Lung Association where people will be climbing 1034 steps at the US Bank Center in downtown Milwaukee. More information at the link below.

http://www.active.com/fitness/milwaukee-wi/fight-for-air-climb-milwaukee-2010

Valentine's Day Weekend

Ron here...

I can't believe it's Wednesday night already! I did not mean to wait so long to update, but it's amazing how little time there actually is in a day.

Valentine's Day weekend was okay for us, but there were some pretty rough moments for me and for Millie. Probably more so for me, but Millie was certainly hurting. Our family has never been really big on Hallmark holidays. Cards, flowers, candy and that's about it. It was hard not to think about Beccee though. I thought a lot about the letter I wrote her last Valentine's Day and the one I wrote in December for her birthday. I had promised I'd write by this Valentine's Day, and I kept my promise. It was a pretty brutal time writing that letter. I wish I could say I felt better afterward, but I can't. The last time I remember a genuine sense of relief after crying was the night of the Gerard/Benet concert. Beccee and I had a minor fight and I ended up pretty upset about our whole situation. I remember telling her all I wanted was to feel like a normal family again. After we talked, and after I had cried it out, things felt better. They weren't actually better. I guess it helped at the time not knowing the difference.

Church on Sunday was much better for me than the previous Sunday. I didn't have that sense of surprise seeing the wedding scene on the stage this time, and I decided to sit stage left, up front where I never usually sit. It wasn't a conscious decision to try to hide, but it may have been a subconscious one. Marcel had joined the worship band as a special guest and I really wanted to sit close to him. Marcel and Beccee had been friends for many years and played together in bands. It was really cool to see Marcel up on stage at "our" church. (I know it's not our church, but you know what I mean.) It made me smile to know that Marcel was there because of Beccee and I knew how happy that would have made her. Then I started to picture Beccee standing next to me and I could see her as clear as if she really was standing there. While the band was playing music, she was smiling, singing, clapping and dancing along. When the song was over, she was cheering and doing that obnoxiously loud finger-in-the-mouth whistle that she would do. Man, that was crazy loud! It was hard for me to keep it together standing there thinking of her.

When the worship music set was finished, I thought about sneaking out of the sanctuary and hanging out in the green room with the musicians. I'm not really sure why I stayed put, especially after the week before and how uncomfortable I was, but I didn't move. I figured I'd ride this service out by myself. Listening to Pastor Terry's sermon was nowhere near as difficult this time, which was nice. About fifteen minutes into the sermon, Marcel found me and sat down in the seat next to me. I felt like someone had given me a Valentine's Day present.

Later that afternoon, I went to pick up the girls at Beccee's mom and dad's house where they spent a few hours. At someone's suggestion, I thought it would be a good idea to have the girls make Valentine's cards for Beccee that we could tie to balloons and let them fly to the sky. We had to trim some of the weight off the homemade Valentine's cards to get them to lift off even with six balloons. It was starting to get dark and chilly, but the three of us went outside with Mike and Carol close by taking some pictures. We said a quick prayer and let the balloons go. They started going up, but sadly a draft took them into a very tall tree where they got stuck about 40 feet off the ground. Millie started to cry, but she wasn't even looking up. She was actually starting cry before the balloons even touched the tree. She was still sad about Beccee. So was I. So was Emma.

On Monday, I distracted myself by fixating on dumping the minivan for a Mazda3. It was a great time-and-energy-consuming task to locate cars that were close enough for me to drive to and to figure out what I could reasonably expect to get for a trade on the minivan. Tuesday morning I drove up to Neenah, test drove a car and drove away with it a couple hours later. The price was two thousand dollars cheaper than any other comparable car within 75 miles and they gave me what I wanted in trade value. The dealership had a contemporary Christian radio station playing in the show room, which I thought was pretty cool. I dealt with the owner's son. He had called his dad to get approval on the trade in value of the minivan, but the guy wasn't answering his phone. While waiting for that call back, our smalltalk somehow turned into me recapping the last eight months. So, there I am in a used car dealership telling a complete stranger (who is trying to sell me a car) about my wife getting lung cancer, dying, and how I'm trying to take care of two six year old girls. I was quite sure Beccee was laughing her butt off in heaven knowing exactly how unlikely it is to find me talking to anyone, much less a used car salesman in Neenah, Wisconsin.

Anyway, Emma and I really like the car. It's small, relatively quick and sporty. Not as fast as the BMW 540i 6-speed, but way more fun than driving the living room, I mean, minivan. Millie has expressed her displeasure with the transaction. I don't think she was ready for mommy's car to go away. She's doing okay though and she is excited that instead of the built-in DVD player the van had, she is going to inherit mommy's iPod Nano that plays video.

Well since I got my obligatory Apple product mention in (someone's gotta get that stock going after the iPad announcement), I'll call it a night here.

Love and blessings,

Ron