Sunday, December 9, 2012

first christmas

I'm going to get back to using the blog the way I intended it. Good memories. Lucas's first Christmas. Best Christmas of my life...

First thing in the morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed, wearing his Christmas pajamas and feeling slightly confused I'm sure. That was one of his two favorite blankets, he dragged it every where with him. 

Posing for a picture with mommy, while all of the pre-present preparations were made. I love his little still sleepy smile.

Mommy didn't do a very good job picking out wrapping paper.. It was pretty, but almost impossible to tear. What resulted was a lot of ineffectual slapping on Lucas's part, and a lot of ohing and ahing on mommy's part as she opened it little by little for him.

One of his favorite toys.. He loved his mega blocks. Loved the little wagon to pull them around in even more. We would climb in the back and just sit there are laugh, it was adorable.

The previously mentioned mega blocks.. He doesn't even know what they are but the still is ecstatic to receive them. I think this whole morning was just awesome to him.. Waking up and getting all of this special attention and all of the new toys.. 

Looking a little moody, but so is daddy. He'll be happy as soon as his present is open...

There we go, another of his favorites. Loud and obnoxious.. Perfect for my crazy little man.

 Last but not least.. All dressed up for a trip to Grandma's house. He's so damn big here... Grew up so fast. I wish I could see how big he would be this Christmas. I love you baby... So damn much.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

I'm sorry

This won't be a popular post.. But keep the opinions to yourselves if you could. You may not like the things I sometimes think, but that doesn't mean I can just not think them. Why not just write this stuff in private so I don't have to deal with the responses? I don't know. Writing in private doesn't feel like it helps. It's just words thrown into the wind. But when I publish it where people could potentially see it, it feels different for some reason. So I go with it.

Bruce. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I gave up, I'm sorry I wanted out. I was just so fed up and you never took anything I brought up seriously. I was sick of supporting you while you contributed nothing. I was sick of sitting at the dinner table in silence, trying to have a one sided conversation. I was sick of telling you how I felt only to have you shrug it off. You didn't take me seriously until I told you I wanted out, and it was just too late. The sad part of that is that I really believed I had finally gotten through to you when I said I wanted a divorce. I think you would have changed, I think you would have done anything to keep me. But it was too late, I had decided, and I just wanted out... The quicker the better.

I'm sorry I hurt you so badly. I'm sorry I drove you to the point of thinking killing us all was the only option you had. I'm sorry I broke your heart. I'm sorry I was so cold and inflexible. Cruel in a lot of ways... I was just so done with it, I really didn't care if you were hurting at that point. I had spent so long hurting while you sat complacent, I just plain didn't give a damn. But I'm sorry. I wish it could have been different. I wish I had put in the effort and had taken my vows seriously. I'm sorry.

Lucas. Oh my baby... My angel.. Mommy is so so sorry for all the ways she failed you. I'm sorry that the mistakes I made contributed to you losing your life. I'm sorry you don't get to grow up. Oh my God I'm so sorry that you felt pain. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you, I didn't put you first. I ran away and didn't protect you, and I failed you. I failed you so horrifically... If I had known.. But that doesn't matter. That I couldn't have known doesn't change what happened. And I wasn't there for you, to save you or to at least die with you. 

You were so beautiful and perfect. So innocent.. Happy and loving and trusting. You are the love of my life and I'm so fucking sorry that I let you down. I'm so sorry for everything, for Everything. I'll never stop missing you, I'll never move on. I don't want to, I refuse to. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough to save you. I love you always Munchie.. Always.

Sunday, November 25, 2012


It's been a while since I've even thought of posting here. First it was because I got sad realizing that some day I would run out of pictures to post. There are only so many.. Then I got sad because I realized that the memories I had of Lucas were fading. I would read something or see something and all of a sudden a hazy memory would come back, and it hurt to know I had forgotten it even for a moment.

Like the sounds he used to make.. He was never big on talking. Instead of words he would just walk around saying "deedle deedle deedle". Everything was called a "da da", even me. Or how he would make me sit down on the floor, and the push me down so I was laying on my back, lift up my shirt, and blow raspberries on my stomach. I would pretend to be ticklish and laugh uncontrollably, and he loved making me laugh so he would fall over laughing...

Or dinner time. His one true love was milk. For a long time he refused to eat solids, all he wanted was his milk. Eventually I got him to start eating but it was never much. Every meal turned out like the one in the picture. He loved making a mess, but didn't care to do much actual eating.

It makes me sad to think of him. It makes me sad to look at other kids who are the same age he would have been and to wonder what he would have been like. It makes me sad to think of how badly I failed him. Yes, I know. It's not my fault. Only... Knowing that and believing it aren't exactly the same thing. I can tell myself that all day long but it doesn't lessen my guilt. And I know that carrying this burden of guilt won't bring him back, nothing will.. But I just don't think I can forgive myself. Am I punishing myself? Probably. But how can I not when I feel like I deserve to be punished? Someone should be punished for what happened to my beautiful baby boy. Someone should pay. Mistakes were made, if they weren't he'd be here. I hold part of the blame for those mistakes. And the other person that hold blame is gone. I don't know what to do about that. When I think about Bruce.. It's a blank. I can't even bring myself to hate him, he's just... Confusing.

He loved Lucas, and I thought he loved me too. He said he did. Divorce or no, we were at least still friends. And I know, I know... He was mentally ill. I get it. But... I still don't understand how someone could be that sick. Maybe if he had just thought about it and dismissed it. Maybe if he had picked up the gun than put it back down. Maybe if he had pointed it and then looked in his sons eyes and turned it on himself instead. Where was God then? All it would have taken is one moment of clarity and I could still have my son. The police would have said "I'm sorry, your husband is gone but your son is fine and you'll see him soon" instead of "Your husband and your son are gone."

Maybe maybe maybe. If what if's were money I'd be a billionaire. It's just this never ending cycle of pain and loss and loneliness and regret. Of feeling like I'm getting better and then breaking down again. It's been over a year. A year! I haven't seen him in over a year! How can that be possible? When you have a child your life changes Forever. Forever. That's what they say. But it's not true, not for me at least.

Bottom line.. I just miss him. Always will. I miss his smile and his laugh, the way it felt to hold him and the love and trust in his eyes when he looked at me. I miss the joy he brought to my life, and to everyone around him. I would do Anything, give Anything, to have him back. But there's nothing I can do, nothing I can give. I can't fix this. All I can do is carry it with me for the rest of my life. Carry it and try... Try to remember the good times. Try to be grateful for the time I had with him. Try and keep his memory alive.

I love you Lucas, you'll always have all of my heart.

Monday, April 23, 2012

my little milk man

It's the little moments I cherish the most.. Lucas learning to hold his bottle all by himself.. The way he would follow me into the kitchen and light up when he saw me filling his cup up with milk. A particular moment during our last weeks together... He had always been a daddy's boy. Daddy stayed home with him every day while mommy had to go to work and leave him all day long. But during the last weeks.. There was one week where I didn't see him at all, where he was being kept from me. After a visit to court the status quo was reestablished, and I finally got to pick him up from daycare and see him after a hellish week spent apart. He seemed so happy to see me, I could tell he knew me and had missed me. I was so afraid he wouldn't care that he hadn't seen me, or that he would have forgotten me, but he didn't. I remember bringing him home that night and sitting down on the floor near him while he played with his legos. He got up and walked over and plopped right down into my lap.. That was something he always did with his dad, never with me. But he just sat down in my lap and continued to play, ignoring me completely for the most part.. He just wanted to be close to me. I think of that moment often, it's one of the memories that comes to me most frequently. I'm glad I have moments like that.. Moments he and I shared together, happy memories that fill my heart with love.. But I'll be damned if it doesn't rip my heart out even as it's filling it up. What I wouldn't give for one more moment like that.. I miss my baby.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

six months

Six months ago, right at this very moment, Lucas was getting ready for bed... Just like any other night. I had spent the day at my mom's house, so I wasn't the one putting him to bed, but when I got home at eight he was already asleep. If only I had went in, and kissed him goodnight. But I didn't know that was the last time he'd put on his pajamas, or the last time he'd sleep peacefully in his crib. How could I have known that? I couldn't have. It was inconceivable. Of course he'd be around in the morning to hug and kiss, wasn't he always? The idea that his father could ever hurt him never even crossed my mind. Never. If it had.. I would have done anything to protect him.

It hurts so much, and it never gets any easier. Six months later and I still can't believe it. I know now that I'll never be okay.. I know now that every stupid thing before this in my life that got me down, every tear I shed, was absolute bullshit. Nothing can compare to this pain.. And I can't fix it. I can't accept he's gone. I can't let him go, and I don't want to. I have to live with this pain forever, all because of one selfish person. One disgusting, horrible, utterly fucked up person.

I heard a story from a friend recently, about an incident with their significant other, something that had so many similarities to what happened six months ago tonight with Bruce and me, that it made me physically ill with anxiety. And they know all about what happened to me.. But still they sat their and said "but they would never hurt the kids". How nice must it be to sit on the outside and look at poor me and think "but that was someone else, something like that could never happen to me." Because fuck, it's not like I didn't think the same thing. "He would never hurt Lucas". But he did.. Do they think I'm just that stupid and blind, that he gave signs of being capable of it, and I ignored or missed them and just left Lucas there with a psycho? Of course he would never hurt him.. Who would do something like that? But no.. He did.. And the least I can do is let others learn from my mistakes, although I'm still trying to figure out just where it all went wrong. But no.. That would never happen to you, just me. Just lucky lucky me.

I've never regretted anything in my life until this. Nothing has ever been so permanent. The rest of my life this pain will be in me.. All thanks to someone who was supposed to love me, and who was supposed to give his life for his child. Instead.. He decided that he was God, and had the right to decide whether we lived or died. Nothing will ever be the same now.. Life can never be carefree or happy. It's just one step at a time, pretending to be okay, so that I don't lay on the couch all day every day for the rest of my life. But you know.. At least I have my life. Lucas lost his. And I would give everything, anything, to change that.

Fuck you Bruce. You were a disgusting piece of shit, and the world is better off without you. I hope you burn for eternity.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

easter sunday

This is one of my favorite pictures of Lucas. It was taken last year, on Easter Sunday. It must have been a nice day outside, and he was running around in the grass outside of church, playing and laughing. He loved the dandelions. He was so happy and full of life... I never knew that could be taken away. Who knew any burden could feel so heavy.. I miss you Lucas. Happy Easter.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

missing him

I don't quite know how to put into words how I've been feeling lately. When I think of Lucas... He doesn't seem real anymore. When I look at pictures, they just feel like pictures. I can't remember what it felt like to hold him, and I can't picture what he looked like standing right in front of me, or walking, or playing. Every memory I have of him is colored by his passing. Is this what acceptance is? I hope not, because I don't like it. I want to think of Lucas, think of holding him, without also having to think of burying him and of the fact that he no longer exists on this earth.

It all feels like a dream.. My whole life with him. He doesn't seem like he could have been real. I don't remember what it was like to be a mom, to wake up every day and have someone else to take care of. He's been gone for five months.. Almost a quarter of the time I had with him. Can you believe that? A full quarter of that time. It feels like I had him forever.. But I'm already forgetting him, so it's obvious that's not true.

Lucas would have been 2 years and 3 months on the 24th of March. What would he have been up to? I don't know what kids that age are doing.. My mommy experience stops at 22 months. Would he be talking? Dressing himself? Would he be more coordinated? In a big boy bed maybe? Would he be potty trained? That's a strange thought... I can't picture it. But then again, I can't picture him. Or when I do, he's foggy. Like something I made up, something that couldn't possibly have been real, something that was too good to be true, something I was always meant to lose.

It's been five months, so it would seem that I should be starting to get a little better by now. But really? It's getting harder as time passes. I don't cry less, I cry more, and more easily. I have more concentration problems because he is always on my mind. I can still laugh and smile, but it takes more and more effort. It was easier when it first happened, I had shock and denial to wrap myself up in. But now, after five months apart from him, after slowly beginning to forget him, it's not possible to deny what happened, and the shock is long gone. All that's left is loneliness and longing.. Longing for something I can never have back, no matter how much I wish it. Longing for his voice and his laugh, his hugs and his kisses, his love.. Longing. I don't know if I'll ever feel anything else.