Living A Shattered Life

It’s been 4 years since Rico and I got together.

4 years that have gone by so quickly.

We sold his house and moved into an apartment so we could use the funds for all the little things we both had plans for.

I decided at Christmas that I wanted us to create a “Fuck It” list.

A combined list of 100 items that we would accomplish this year. Together and separately.

The items vary from small inexpensive things to traveling internationally.

We have been checking things off and it makes me feel like we aren’t wasting time. That we are making the most of our lives.

Even if it’s silly things like learn to make homemade pickles.

We have gotten into a very easy and joyful rhythm.

For a while, I was really struggling when I came back in February.

After the anniversary of Frank’s death.

I started pushing him and Naia away.

Secluding myself and not wanting to be touched or interacting with family time.

Rico recognized the signs and poured even more effort into connecting with me.

He comes home at lunch to kiss me and bring me snacks.

He makes me a cup of coffee every day.

He made a movie night on our porch with string lights and snacks after I had a long work day.

It immediately made me cry.

I’ve never been cared for like this. No one has ever done romantic gestures like this.

It brought me back to life.

I am laughing, singing and dancing again.

He is constantly reminding me how much he loves me. That he has been in love with me since we were teenagers.

I am so grateful to have him in my life.

He is such a good man and our family is thriving because of him.

I want to continue to share my life with him.

I want to grow with him and become the best versions of ourselves that we can.

I want show Naia how all the little things matter and how grateful we should be for them.

To never take them or him for granted.

He makes me want to be a better partner.

To give him as much as he gives me.

6 years. It still feels so fresh some days. My biggest hope is that you see me and that you are proud of me. Proud that I that I am living, loving, exploring, laughing, traveling and doing everything I can to make the most of the time I have here. Your death taught me that there is no guarantees in life and to stop putting life on the back burner, thinking there is always more time. I miss you Franco. I love you and you will always be remembered and forever loved.

I read a quote the other day that cut me to the bone.

It stated “They say that the first thing you forget about a person is their voice.”

Franco visited my dreams again.

It’s only the second time that has happened.

Twice, in 6 years.

Just like the first time, I knew I was dreaming but it still felt so real.

But I couldn’t hear him.

I could see him, I was watching him joke around and talk to other people around him.

Like we were at a party and I was watching him from across the room.

He was happy, laughing and talking shit.

I just wanted to hold onto to it but I felt myself slipping away, and he just looked up at me and smiled.

He smiled and winked at me.

Then he was gone and I was awake.

Missing him and wishing that I had recorded his voice so I could hear it again.

I think that is why I have started recording all the time.

Just every day moments.

So I can have these memories in case something happens.

So others can have them too.

It’s his birthday in a few days.

I need to remember to call or text his mom.

So she knows that I remember how special that day is.

How special he was.

I miss my best friend.

That damn wink and smile still gets me.

Every time.

It’s been so long since I let myself fall.

Since I let the emotions get the best of me.

Most of the time I have it all together.

I keep it all locked down and I can focus on one day at a time.

But I thought I would be doing better by now.

I can’t believe that it has been 6 years since Franco died.

Six years feels like it was yesterday but also that the time has just flown by.

I’ve been feeling the pull to write.

The need that starts deep in the my core. The anxious part that is afraid to let the tears come.

Knowing that it will wreck me like a ship during a storm at sea.

I’ve been avoiding music, I put away photos. Thinking that if it was readily seen, I could start to forget the pain.

Afraid to focus on the fond memories.

To remember the adventures and the love of my best friend.

I know it looks like I’m carrying it well.

Did you even know that my smile is forced sometimes?

Can you see that I am suffering inside?

I’ve noticed how much more quiet I am.

The vibrancy and joy I had is dampened.

It’s like a painting that has fade over time. It’s still beautiful and a colorful canvas but it’s not the same.

Rico has been putting in so much effort to restore me.

To give me unwavering support, limitless patience and love.

He has brought so much laughter into my life.

He has taken on this major undertaking of restoring me.

Cleaning up a mess that he didn’t make.

Bringing the color back into me.

He reads my emotions like a book.

It can be unnerving sometimes when he can see past the facade, to the pain underneath.

The pain is always there but the love Rico has be giving me has been so overwhelming.

I’m still healing and I’ve been pushing forward every day.

I’m almost at the point to where I want to get Franco’s motorcycle back on the road.

It’s been in storage ever since I got it repaired and painted. I think by next year, I will be able to start that process.

I think once I get over the mountain of nerves and anxiety over just getting on his bike and riding, it will help me.

I think it will help me to feel connected to him again.

I always forget how much I love to ride and how quickly that love comes back.

Feeling the wind on my skin and the freedom.

I still have his ashes.

I’m not ready to let those go yet.

I have been thinking about getting a ring made with some of them so I can wear it often.

I know he wouldn’t want me to keep his ashes in a box near my bed but I just can’t let him go yet.

Sometimes I feel strong.

Sometimes I forget that he’s gone.

Sometimes I go to text him something and then it hits and it hurts all over again.

During those times, the grief threatens to crush me. It’s gotten so close.

Then other days, I can carry it well.

So well, it’s like I was never broken.

Those are the days that I treasure. That I soak in every moment. Letting the light just flow over me. Filling every crack with light and warmth.

I’ve been having more happy days than sad and maybe that’s enough for now.

Maybe that’s what living a shattered life is.

Letting the light through when you can.

Knowing that broken things can still be beautiful.

When I first moved down, I didn’t realize how much my life was going to change. I obviously knew that it was going to a completely different direction that I had been heading but I don’t think I realized this extent.

There are so many things that I have experienced now and realize that no one ever tells you about being a parent. Or maybe it’s just not considered polite to say it out loud so no one does.

How isolated I feel. Being here with no family, no friends, working from home and taking care of Naia in the mornings. I don’t have “Me” time. I don’t have the luxury of doing the stuff that I like to do. Specifically, she’s too little to enjoy it or she hates it in general.

I have to constantly be “On” or paying active attention to her or I feel guilty like I am a bad parent if I turn the T.V. on or let her play on her devices while I do chores around the house. I never got to play with my mom so maybe that is why I overcompensate.

My mom had three kids and worked multiple jobs. Most of the time, we only saw her in the morning before school and at night for dinner. We didn’t get to play with her. She was never able to make it in time for any of my games once I started playing sports. I went to a babysitter until I was old enough to be home alone. We entertained ourselves until she got home.

Looking back now, I’m sure she was exhausted in the evenings but she would still cook dinner and we would “help” her before we had to do homework and all that over stuff.

Which is why, I think I try so hard to be actively there with Naia and do activities that teach her things or make her excited. I wanted that when I was little. I wanted a mom that would take spontaneous trips to the beach, or park or take a day off work to come to a school event. We grew up pretty poor but we were loved so much that it never really mattered.

I am luckily in a place financially that I am able to work part time and still do those things with her. I have the flexibility to spend as much time as she wants together.

But it’s costing me……ME.

I’m losing my identity. My alone time. My time to grieve freely. My creative time. All the emotions that scream to be released but I can’t. I can’t have a bad day, I can’t lose my temper or tell her to leave me alone and play in her room by herself. I can’t soothe my soul with a walk in the woods.

I understand that she is only going to be little for so long so I am trying to soak it up and create some lasting bonds. Memories that she will cherish and pass down to her kids in the future.

When Rico gets home, he doesn’t play with her. Not actively playing. He’s exhausted from work and just wants to take some alone time to wind down and I’m over here like, “Hey buddy, my shift was over this morning. You get her for the next 5 hours. I also had to work today, and clean up this house before you got home.” His version of playing, is putting her on his lap and watching videos on the computer with her until she gets bored.

Maybe that’s all he is can give her at those times. Maybe he is just as tired as me and we both are doing the best that we can.

Now that I think about it. He doesn’t have “Me” time either. He leaves before I get out of bed in the morning and on the nights that we don’t have her, we are trying to reconnect. We have mini date nights and we are together. He doesn’t get any time that he needs to release either.

On the weekends that we have her. He cooks us meals and we go on adventures or we will build blanket forts and hang out. We are constantly doing something.

This past weekend. I was making pancakes after we all slept in. Rico and I were laughing and dancing to music while Naia and the cat hung out in the fort I made. Looking from a third person view, all I could think was “this is what other people dream about having…so why am I sad.”

It’s because I still think about Franco every day. I’m still upset that he isn’t here. Even though I have this beautiful life that is so hard day in and day out. There are music concerts and festivals that I want to go to with him. I want to have our Rocky marathons.

I miss my best friend.

My life with Franco was easy compared to this. We had so much freedom.

Maybe that’s what I miss most.

My freedom.

I chose not to have kids because I wanted that freedom so badly. I wanted to be selfish and do what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it.

I still don’t want any kids of my own and I am very grateful that we can pass her off to the other parents during the week and weekends.

I think I would go insane if I had to be a mom 24/7.

I’m barely making it as a part time mom….

4 years since Franco passed away. I can’t believe that so much has happened and how much has changed in my life.

I went home to help for the holiday and so I could see his mom for the anniversary.

We caught up and she mentioned that Frank’s sister was in the hospital with pneumonia and she had been taking care of her granddaughter while she was there. I didn’t think much of it and thought everything would turn out fine. I hugged her, thinking I wouldn’t see her again till I came back in June for a wedding. I was wrong.

I got a message a few days after I got home that Barbara had taken a turn for the worse and her kidneys were starting to fail. I asked Susan if she needed to me to come back and she said no but to keep them in my prayers.

The next morning she messaged me that Barbara had passed away early that morning. I had my flight booked immediately, packed and left early the next morning.

I arrived in the afternoon and went right to the house and gave her a big hug. She held it together but she was upset. She told me that I didn’t have to come but I looked right at her and said “Family is forever.”

After Frank passed, I promised myself that I would look out for her and make sure she knew that she had support anytime she needed it.

We used the same funeral home that had been used for Frank’s father and for Frank.

It was hard answering the questions that the funeral director had about what to put in the obituary. Her boyfriend was supposed to meet us there to help with the planning but he never showed up so we did the best we could. I didn’t really know her so we were all at a loss for words.

I decided that it would be best if I took some of the burden off Susan by taking the granddaughter to run errands and back to the house she lived at with her mom Barbara and John.

I told her that I was gonna make sure that she had everything she needed and we needed to grab a outfit for her mom to wear. When we got there, John was there and had chosen an outfit for Barbara to wear.

I felt really bad for John. He was just lost and I knew exactly how he was feeling. The loss, the over whelming emotions, all the unanswered questions.

It’s even worse for Barbara’s daughter. She lost her mom and she had lost her dad about 8 years before that. Since Barbara died without a will, she is to be a ward of family court until the permanently assign guardianship.

I took her to lunch and got her to talk to me about normal things and it was nice to get to know her. After a few hours together, she felt comfortable enough to start asking questions about the service and who she was going to live with. I spoke honestly with her since she’s old enough to make decisions and to know the truth of things.

A lot of the things she asked, I told her that I would tell Susan and they could talk it over together. She doesn’t have anymore immediate family. There are aunts and uncles on the Father’s side but no one who had said anything about taking care of her, yet.

I asked her for her favorite pictures of her mom and she texted me them so that I could print them out and put into frames for a small picture memorial for the service.

She told me Barbara’s favorite colors and I had my work make the casket spray and a basket for John to take home.

When we got to the funeral home for the service, we set up the picture display and had to wait awhile before they had the viewing room ready. Susan and Katelyn went into together and I went in later alone.

They did a pretty good job with her makeup but made her too dark. We weren’t sure if they were going to be able to do an open casket since the doctors told us that her skin tone was different colors at the hospital.

People started showing up and paying their respects. I stayed in the background, just making sure everything was running smoothly and answering questions with the director.

John showed up alone and I went out to meet him. I hugged him and asked him if he wanted me to go with him into the viewing room or if he wanted to be alone. He asked me to go with him so I escorted him and just stood silently.

He sat down at a pew and asked if he was in the obituary. I said yes and grabbed one of the cards for him. He read it and just shook his head and said “Special Friend”……

I told him that is the term that is used for people like us. People who were in long term relationships but not married. I was upset at the term too. It doesn’t show how complex a relationship was or the love that was there.

The service went pretty quickly and at the end the extended family circled the casket and held hands and sang a song. I didn’t know it so I just stayed silent.

After the service, I took Katelyn to a gathering where some of her family was and stayed for a few hours. They were all really nice to me. I enjoyed the food and conversation.

I stopped by Susan’s before I left to go home and hugged her tight. I hate that she has gone through so much loss and pain. It’s too much for one person to have to go through.

Just a lifetime of loss.

It put even more emphasis on living for today.

Life is too short not to love hard. To play and laugh and do what makes me happy.

We never know when we will lose someone. Have to make each day count.

It’s been about 3 months since I moved down and it has definitely been a learning curve for all of us.

I have become part of this family dynamic and it makes me happier than I could have ever imagined.

I had been kind of holding myself back and figuring out what role I would play in Naia’s life. Questioning myself if I was worthy to be a part of this family.

I had this shift in my heart about three weeks ago.

With our co-parenting schedule, we rotate weekends. I started keeping her all day on those fridays instead of dropping her off at grandmama’s house. We spend all day playing and doing activities.

We were both exhausted at the end of the day. After bedtime and reading some stories to her, I went to put her in bed. She asked if she could stay up longer and I told her no, that I was going to bed too.

I wasn’t.

I was just going to relax and have some alone time. Like a normal parent.

So she asks if she can sleep with me in our big bed. I sighed, agreed and we went into the big bed. I tucked her in on Rico’s side and we both laid down. She was moving around a lot so I told her she had to go to sleep or I was going to put her back in her own bed.

She stopped moving, closed her eyes and fell asleep immediately.

I just laid there looking at her and my heart just spiraled down. I knew I was lost. I love this baby girl so much and I can’t imagine not having her in my life. I just cuddled close to her without hugging her since she lets off heat like her daddy does.

Rico came home a few hours later from work, shifted her slightly and we all slept together with her in the middle.

I woke up before they did and they were both sleeping peacefully. Looking like a Disney prince and princess and I was more content that I ever imagined possible.

That night changed my whole outlook.

She woke up early that morning and was so happy to be with us. She was so silly and got so close to my face once she realized I had opened my eyes. She was careful to be very quiet and whisper that we had to get up and daddy was sleeping. It was endearing and heartbreakingly sweet.

We had early morning cuddles, watched a movie and made breakfast for daddy. It was something I won’t forget and probably one of my favorite memories so far.

Since then I have been so blissfully happy and even though it is exhausting sometimes, I am loving my life.

I’m not second guessing my place or if I deserve to be this happy.

I still think about Franco and look at the photos of us on the fridge daily but I know that he would be upset if I stopped myself from feeling worthy of this level of love.

I am so grateful for Franco. He put me back together when I fell apart years ago, he and I had so many adventures and have so many memories together. He let me do anything that I wanted and encouraged me to go out and explore. By loving Franco, I have been able to do anything I wanted so I feel very complete. I don’t feel like I have missed out in anything.

I think that is why I am enjoying being a parent figure so much. I have travelled extensively, I have completed a lot of bucket list items, I had multiple careers and experiences. I don’t have to do anything now but enjoy spending time with her. We can play as much as she wants and I can share new experiences with her.

Rico and I want to be the parents that we both needed when we were growing up. My mom was a single parent for 13 years so she was constantly working. She didn’t have a lot of time to play with us. She wasn’t able to go to the playground or watch me play sports. What she was able to gave us, is endless love, affection and support. I also had a very large and loving family environment with my extended family. I have been able to pass down family traditions like teaching her to bake like my grandma did with me.

Rico is one of the best fathers that I have ever seen. He is so patient with her and explains things in detail with her. He includes her in anything that he is doing, from projects to cooking. He is always present and takes such great care of her.

I never anticipated loving Naia has much as I do. I knew that I would love her but I thought it was going to be more like how I feel about my nieces and nephews.

I never anticipated that I would miss her on the weekends we don’t have her. That holding her hand makes my heart sigh. That her morning cuddles make me feel so loved and important.

I told my mom that I finally figured out just a small piece of how she feels about me and how much she loves me. I can’t even imagine how much pain that my mom felt when Franco died. I called her right after I received the news from his mom. She couldn’t do anything but listen to me cry on the phone. Knowing her baby was destroyed and not being able to fix it. She just comforted me, prayed for me and told me she would be on the next flight out.

That kind of love is what I want to give Naia.

My mother’s way to love.

It happened much earlier than I anticipated. Rico seeing how deep my fears and anxieties run.

We had been texting all day while he was at work and he told me he would see me around 10:15pm.

10:15 came and went. 10:20, 10:25, 10:30……

I immediately went spiraling down into worst case scenarios.

Something is wrong. He is never late. He got in an accident. He’s hurt. He’s dead.

I tried to stop these thoughts. Tried drowning them out with music but I kept getting worse.

My heart was racing. My stomach was in knots.

I kept saying out loud that he is ok. He’s just running late.

But my fears got the best of me.

Starting making plans for what to do after I get the news that he has died.

Who I would call, where I would go and it just kept going.

Then I heard the front door unlock and I ran from the bedroom and hugged him tight.

“You’re late. I was worried.”

He didn’t notice my emotions at first. I had my head buried in his neck.

He told me the problem that happened right as he was clocking out and what he had to do.

I told him I needed him to text me the next time he would be late as I turned and went back to the bed. Laying there, trying to get it together.

He finally understood how upset I had gotten when I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face.

He tried to comfort me but I pushed him away and told him I needed time. For him to go and do his normal nightly routine.

He held me close, kissed me and said it would never happen again.

After I got under control, I came out and apologized and we continued our night.

I guess it’s all I can do. Try and have open, honest conversation when I am struggling and what I need to feel safe.

I thought I had it all figured out. That I had dealt with my emotions about selling the house.

I was so wrong.

I go to the closing on Friday.

I had put the house on the market on a Friday morning and by that afternoon, had accepted an offer.

It all worked out really well and has been a really easy experience.

I moved my hiking gear, some basic clothes and my cat to Texas and then spent a week with Rico before I left for a month long road trip.

That trip took me all around the U.S. Seeing places on my bucket list. I brought Frank’s orb with me and I felt him next to me so often.

Just enjoying the views and at times I just wished I could put my arm around him and rest my head on his chest like I used to do.

I circled back around to South Carolina with a few days left before the closing and I still have so much to prepare.

Dump runs, goodwill runs, selling furniture, loading moving vans.

It’s all overwhelming and I can’t stop crying or feeling so lost.

This house has been the anchor to Frank.

The place that we built together.

It’s where I felt safe and could let down my guard when life got too hard.

It’s been full of laughter, love and of loss.

If these walls could talk, what stories they could tell….

Of family brunches with coffee and laughter overflowing.

To slip and slide parties and movie nights.

To the terrible night of the accident and my anguish in the days that have followed.

To all the love that was made here.

As I walk through the house, the silence is deafening.

The empty rooms just echo with all the plans left undone.

I know that this is the next step for me but I am grieving the loss of the life I knew.

When I finally lock the front door for the last time, I’ll take a deep breath and say goodbye to that life.

To our home.

I am absolutely terrified and keep pulling back from Rico. I keep looking for a way out but he keeps reaching out. He keeps bringing me back into the shelter of his love and won’t let me go. He refuses to let me self destruct. He is so patient and loves me more than I deserve.

I told him that I’m afraid that he and his daughter are going to swallow me up.

That they will become my entire world and I am going to lose my identity.

He reassured me, again, that he’s not going to let that happen and would kick me out to go on hikes and adventures.

I just don’t know who I am anymore.

I told him that I couldn’t remember the last time that I felt pretty or confident.

I have gotten so good at hiding my emotions and my pain that I have lost myself.

The road trip helped me think and realize how much I need to work on myself.

I’ve been ignoring the check engine signs and I still need more time to figure out who I am supposed to be.

To who I want to become.

I don’t have to see the whole path, I just have to take one step at a time.

Finalizing the sale on the house is that first step.

One huge, heart wrenching step.

I sit here drinking coffee in the eerily quiet house in Texas. Just a few feet away, Rico is sleeping in our bed.

It’s been quite an adventure getting here. Time flew so quickly. Work had been a non stop grind, not many days off as we worked toward our second major holiday.

When I wasn’t at work, I had been working on the house. Painting, packing, reorganizing and getting it ready to go on the market.

I had a photographer come in on Thursday and Friday morning, Trina and I loaded into the rental car, along with the cat and drove out to Texas in one shot.

The house went live at 9am and at 8pm, my realtor told me an offer came in. I looked it over and accepted it.

A process that I expected to take a least a month, took one day. As long as all my inspections turn out ok, we will be closing in early July.

It’s been so strange how things have fallen into place for my transition here.

It’s like the entire universe is finally pulling for me to be happy.

It still feels like a dream. Like I’m just here to visit and will be gone again soon.

I don’t know how long it will take to finally feel like this is home but I am so peaceful.

The first thing I did when I got “home” was take out my photographs and put them around the house. I put Franco’s flag and picture on the nightstand on my side of the bed. I put his orbs on the windowsills in the kitchen so they can be seen every day and catch the light.

This house needs a lot of work and a lot of love.

I was able to see Rico’s daughter and when she saw us, she was in shock and then came running up to me and crying. I just bent down and picked her up and held her close. We played for a few minutes and she bawled as we left her. I also cried when I got back to the house.

She is so tiny and has the biggest brown eyes.

I thought I loved her already but that sealed the deal on my heart. I was so sad that I made her upset. Rico and his ex just laughed and said she would be fine but I felt terrible.

We get her tomorrow and I look forward to playing with her and figuring out how our little family dynamic works.

I leave on Sunday again to start my road trip and take down time for me. It will be a nice break to see my family and old friends.

I have been learning more about Rico and his daily routines. It’s going to be a learning curve for us both but I am so happy.

He loves me so much and just wants to keep me happy. I just hope I have enough to give so he feels as loved as I do.