Sayonara 2009. Like my friend Jill said last night, "even years are much better for me." Ain't that the truth?

And a new decade at that - just in the nick of time. Looking forward to creating some new skate memories in the Methow this upcoming week and skating my brains off. Stoked.

It's hard not to hold onto things. Hard to let go of notions of what's right in this world - things that are often ingrained in you as a kid. That happiness means having a corporate job, having 2.5 kids, getting a house with a mortgage and acquiring the hoards of things you can by having money. But when you get down to it - do any of those things guarantee happiness?

Does holding onto Ryan's clothing produce happiness? No. It just makes it harder to let it go. I know that by giving away his clothing it won't bring him back. Keeping his clothing won't bring him back either. His memories will remain tucked in my heart for the rest of my life.


More on these thoughts later...

Seasons and emotions changing

This morning between weight sets at the gym, I couldn't help but let my mind wander and think about how my grief has progressed. What used to trigger deep sadness and utter loss - a lyric, a smell, a remembrance, is now processed a little easier in my head. Sure the sadness is still there and without a doubt I miss Ryan immensely - but the intensity of his sudden death has now lessened in its harshness. My trigger points aren't as sharp and are not as easily pulled. I can sleep alone in my bed without crying myself to sleep every night.

It's amazing to me this transformation happened - though surely not overnight. It's been a long process from the get go and I also recognize I could become a tearful puddle without a moment's notice. Yet I'm learning to accept this new reality and in some way recognize how much strength and perseverance it's taken to get to this point.

Life never prepares you for its uncertainties. All you can do is make the most of each day, as though its your last and live it with no regrets. I knew right away that being angry about Ryan's death would not benefit me in any way - so I avoided it. And now I can look back on the last year or so and know that my healing was productive and true to my spirit.

So as we approach the shorter days and the longer nights, the colder weather and ski season, I'm a little more prepared for what lies ahead and creating new memories. Holidays shouldn't be as dreaded, but looked as an opportunity to make new traditions. I know, without a doubt, I'll think about Ryan and his endless spirit for adventure and fun while making turns in the powder this winter. So if you hear me hooping and hollering like a mad woman down the hill, please realize I'm doing so for the two of us.

Another one

I've been dreaming a lot of Ryan lately. He's been a visitor so far - mainly in the back ground, but unmistakably there.

Until last night. We were walking around, what I think was Edmonds park. Our arms around one another, walking north. I put my head on his shoulder and got this overwhelming feeling of betrayal - as though I hadn't thought of him in that way in a while. And I told him how sorry I was - thinking how unfair I had been. He didn't say a word but also didn't seem upset. He was just there, holding my head and spirits in tact.

It's been well over a year and there are times when I can't believe that he's gone. Time is starting to pass far too quickly and my quick flashes of how things used to be are fewer and fewer. It's part of the process, I know. But I'm also thankful for every single dream he visits me in, especially one where I can lay my head on his shoulder.

Dreams

I almost had a dream about Ryan last night, the first one in quite some time.

My dream was based around my childhood home in Eugene, Oregon. I was grown up and we had a bunch of family members around. It was as though we were trying to accomplish something together but had a really difficult time coordinating everyone together. I cooked an omelet, thinking it would be okay to leave, came back a few minutes later and someone had eaten it all! One thing is for sure - you don't come between me and my chow so I was pissed. I remember looking at my brother with accusatory eyes and storming out of the room. All I could think to myself was why couldn't these people cut me a break? Didn't they realize that Ryan had died and I'm still hurting? So what do they do but eat my food?

Kind of funny in that I take someone eating my creation as a serious insult when I was the one who got up and walked away.

I remember feeling like Ryan was following me though in my dream. I woke up shortly thereafter confused and pissed someone had eaten my food.

September

A new month and a new year.

This past Monday we celebrated your passing. A handful of friends and your mom made the hike up to the base of Prime Rib and commemorated you. We scattered some of your ashes and thought about what amazing person you are.

The deep pain that encompassed the week has lessened and I can breath and sleep normally again. I know your absence will always lay heavy on my heart but it feels like I've gotten a little closer to acceptance of you being gone. It happened organically and I'm thankful for it.

So what does the next little bit have in store? Still finding my way and figuring that out. But I feel like I've taken some steps forward in my grieving process.

At times I feel like I've lost my connection to this world. My link, my fortress has been disrupted and now I find myself questioning my decisions and think about what I think what others think far too much. I look around Ryan's work area - where he spent a far amount of his time at home and I can't help but feel a big empty place in my heart and in my home.

Picking up the pieces after his tragic accident has taken a while. There were some low moments, some deep depression and panic feelings of not being able to come out the other side. I still feel them just not as frequently as they used to come.

I've also learned how to escape them - to seek refuge in cycling and other activities. But I still can come full circle and bawl my eyes out with the best of them and mourn how much of my life is gone and just memories.

I'm starting to feel a tinge of anger coming on. How could he be so selfish? But then the moment I utter such words, I quickly ban them from my consciousness. How can I be mad at someone for following their passion? People get hit by walking off the corner of a street - so his exit out of this world was at least doing something he loved.

Wow. A full year has come and gone. It seems so long yet so short at the same time. He was loved, that's for sure. And I know he knew that.

Lately I've been feeling a really strong wave of grief. Where it's the first thing I think of when I wake up in the morning and the last thing on my mind as I go to sleep. I suppose it was triggered from hanging out with a bunch of couples at a wedding shower last night. It made me realize how much of an amazing relationship Ryan and I had. To have known that kind of love is really remarkable. But it also aches with a vengeance when I realize how much I miss him.

It gets to the point where I stop communicating. I can't talk. I can't bring myself to think of what to say - so I get really quiet. I hate to make people uncomfortable and think that by saying something it will. I've learned that I just have to roll with the punches.

Oh how I miss him.

Is it strange that I think about death more now? That I wonder if today will be my day through some strange accident? That maybe my fate is getting near? I know, those are terrible thoughts. But I can't help but think them.

I miss you Ryan. A lot.

I am so thankful for my tribe of people who support me. And I'm so thankful that Trish has a tribe to support her as well. We are so very lucky.

I watched a home video with you in it this morning. We were wrestling at my mom's house and she made a comment early on, "one day these videos will be priceless!" And they are, they are.

I watched another video at Christmas time. We were sitting around the table, exchanging gifts and you were giving mom a silly glass shoe shaped bottle with lotion inside. You had carefully wrapped it and she didn't want to open it. Watching you interact and talk has made me realize how much I'm forgetting about you already. It's scary.

I've also been feeling like I might want to move out of the house. I'm not sure when - or where - but I feel so consumed here that eventually I can picture starting my life some where new. That's a really scary thought though.

As the year mark approaches, I find my thoughts with you more and more. What would we be doing now? What adventures would await us?

Thinking of you

I never really stopped thinking about you. Just some days are easier than others. Some days I'm able to immerse myself in what I'm doing so I shut out the constant ache. But usually I wake up in the mornings and you're the first thing on my mind. This morning I could feel you. I want to have a dream about you so bad - but haven't in months.

I finally built up enough courage today to call the sheriff's department to find out where exactly they located your body. I don't know why that matters so much to me - other than I want to go where you last were. I want to be there. I want to pay tribute to you.

One year is rapidly approaching. One year. I can't believe it.

I find myself struggling with the concept of having the capacity to love someone as much as I loved you. For fear of losing it, I suppose. A rational fear at first but in reality an unrealistic one.

Every time I hear an old song, it transports me to memories I have with you. How at the time I soak in everything that's around me... live in the moment and try to commit it to memory. Boy am I glad I did. I'm afraid of losing those memories. Afraid of forgetting how you smiled or your embrace. But I can't think about it too long - otherwise a flood of tears and a puddle of emotions will come streaming out.

Realization

I just figured out why I neglected my yard. It had gotten so out of control - it took 4 adults 3 hours to get it back into shape and functional. And I finally planted the tomato plants Jo picked up for me. As I was watering them, something I hadn't done since last summer, it dawned on me that I was putting off dealing with the realization that Ryan's not inside. He will never peer out the office window as I flash him, never smurk at me and beckon me inside to give him a kiss. That part of my life is over.

It was a sad thought, coming to these terms. But it's realistically something I've been striving toward for the past 9 months. And as the 12 month is rapidly approaching, I sit back and amazed at how far I've come.

For now the grief has subsided and I'm enjoying the summer days. I've had lots of free time and long daylight hours to work on my mental and physical health. Winter was hands down the most difficult month. And some days it's hard to be in the house - so who knows what my future may bring. What was once so certain is now so up in the air.

But I'm slowly and surely becoming okay with that. What to do next in my life? What to do?

It's hard to not thinking of memories created a year ago. Places we visited together and experiences we shared. Soon your absence will be longer than a year. It's really hard to believe it's almost been that long.

This weekend I'm headed to the cabin with Chris and Makiah. I want to visit the spot where you were found and pay my respects. I want to visit that "first" - and am finally feeling strong enough to do so. It feels like it's a necessary part in my healing.

I think back on this past year and can't believe how hard it's been at times and also easy at others. To think we were in the Methow exactly a year ago - you with your climbing buddies and me ready to do a stage race. I warmed up on my rollers on the porch. Who would have thought events would have transpired the way they did? Who would have known?

I remember when Brad passed away and we held each other so tight. It made both of us aware of our deep love for one another and how much we mean to one another. I remember holding you tight, hoping and praying that would never happen to me. But it did.

Now Nellie is going through pain and anguish. Her boyfriend Micah went missing around your birthday on a climb in China. The bodies of his companions were found - yet his has not turned up yet. I cried today and thought of how difficult it is - what a long hard road she has in front of her. From what I hear you now have some more bros to hang with.

Oh Ryan. I miss you. To think that your ashes sit on my mantle is unreal. That's part of the reason I want to see the spot - so the reality can really sink in.

143.

Coping

Ryan's birthday was on June 5, 2009. He would have turned 32. Knowing that the day would be hard, regardless of my location, I flew out to Chicago to spend the weekend away from home in attempt to create new memories. My friend Sharon suggested I float a flower on the shores of Lake Michigan.

Even buying the flower for the occasion was tough. A single, bright pink rose. I popped it off it's stem and cried while doing so. Thinking about how much I would give to have him here next to me - to be celebrating his birthday in person. How the past 9 months have whizzed by.

As the flower floated, it quickly made it's way into deeper waters. Growing more and more distant and bopping in and out of view. My face grew crusty with salty tears. Yet I felt better for having done something in his memory.

The pain has grown deeper. No longer coming in waves, it has settled in with a dull ache. Constantly reminding me of what I lost and making my gray hair multiply.

I just realized tonight that most people can't even fathom what I'm going through. They can't comprehend what I get to deal with daily.

Only when I'm alone do I really let my sorrow take over. The sobs come out without hesitation. The realization that he's gone hits me like a freight truck.

So what do I do? I surround myself with people so that truck doesn't cause a 19 car pile up on I-5.

Nobody

People forget.

Sure they were sad at first when they heard Ryan had passed and thought about his absence for a couple weeks or months at best that he was gone. Perhaps they'd be reminded by some fluke occurrence, some random photograph or song that would transport them into remembering his spirit. And maybe they'd think about it for a little while until their lives returned to their routine.

I sometimes feel like a reminder that Ryan's gone. My mere presence makes people uncomfortable that they have to deal with his death. I'm that reminder that someone who was once here, living life to the fullest, having a fun, making memories, with so much life left to live - is now gone.

I can't blame people for having this reaction. It's unfathomable to imagine how it feels until you're the one feeling it. Till you walk in someones shoes who has lost their soul mate.

I live with reminders everyday. When I wake up in the morning, he's not there. When I curse doing yard work, he's not there. When I need someone to vent to, someone to hold, someone who knows me better than anyone else - he's gone. Gone forever.

All that is left is a big broken heart. One that knows what a great love is and how devastating it is to lose it. I would never wish this loss upon anyone, not even my worst enemies.

Slam!

The past several nights have been plagued with bad memories. When I close my eyes, my mind wanders to the first night I officially found out Ryan had died. Kevin, who we had met earlier that summer and was watching our neighbor Anne's place, had kept Makiah after finding her that morning. She loyally remained at Ryan's side and lead the recovery team to your final resting place. I couldn't help but wonder that night, and many nights since, what she saw. What did she hear?

I open my eyes as quickly as I can to banish the thought. Then they stay open until my mind silences and sheer exhaustion takes over.

I almost went a month without a serious breakdown. I thought April was the absolute worst month - with a steady trickle of breakdowns occurring night after night, after night. And then spending this past week on the North Shores of O'ahu stirred up something frightful. Out my deep, dark emotions poured. Wetting my pillow each night with sobs of sadness and grief. Only to wake up the next morning puffy eyed and more exhausted. And when my family members ask me how I am the next morning, I shrug it off and pretend everything is okay.

But it's not. I'm coping the best way I can. And that's all I can do. Sometimes the going is easy and sometimes the going is rough. Really rough. And it's more exhausting trying to put on a cheerful face.

I suppose this low time was to be expected. The seasons are certainly changing. With Memorial weekend now over - summer is officially here. And my love is not. I try to cheerily look at it from a positive spin. It wouldn't hurt this bad if I didn't have such an amazing love. I am so thankful to have experienced life with Ryan and to have connected to someone on so many levels so young in my life. But oh how I miss him.

Wrapping your arms around me

Yesterday after reading a section in my book regarding afterlife, I had a surreal experience.

I got giddy at the thought that spirits do stay around after their physical presence goes away and was excited thinking about the possibility of Ryan being able to be there when I needed him. All that's required is an open mind and soul to the possibility of the afterlife.

So as I was folding my laundry, I turned on the radio and felt an overwhelming sense of being hugged. My heart soared, my mind quieted and I could truly feel Ryan in the room with me hugging me. It was similar to the movie Ghost.

And although I shed some tears right then and there - it was more because I could feel Ryan more than I had in months and they were tears of joy.

Now I'm on a quest to experience more of that - whether that be through meditation, exercise, quests, etc. The more open I am to the possibility of it happening - the more likely it will.

Then this morning as I was practicing yoga, something I haven't done in months, I was flooded with amazing memories. I couldn't help but think about our trip to Spain in 2007. It was the first time I had thought about it in months. And it felt so amazing to be transported there again.

I get excited just thinking about the possibilities that lie in front of me now. Where will my life take me? What will happen next?

One other note - I will say I made a shift in the way I approached things. Instead of feeling like every comment I made came out of my mouth in some sort of negative way, I focused on looking at the bright side of things. April was a month marked with depression - I was in a dark hole that felt like I would never get out. The harder I tried, the deeper I would sink.

And then something shifted. I took the pressure off myself to compete. I removed anxiety driven situations (mainly road racing) and a weight lifted from my shoulders. I was rediscovering what exercises I did that would make me feel good. I started climbing a little more. I started running trails. I knew I was onto something good when I was able to completely shut my brain off when I was cruising along at my own pace.

I associated training and racing with too much of the same routine. Too much time to think about the way things were, the memories I created when Ryan was around. It became too strong of a burden to bare. And once I removed that pressure, my wings started opening, much wider than before, and I was free to move as I pleased. Finally I was able to look at this important time in my life as a gift rather than a burden.

You have no idea how liberating that was.

Moving on

I just realized today that I'm that much closer to the acceptance stage.

Granted, I did not arrive here over night and I'm more than likely not going to stay in this stage - but for now, I'm accepting where I am and my feelings as they are.

So much in my life has changed. My ever faithful supporter, companion, best friend, lover, admirer and compassionate husband is gone. He was dealt a wrong deal and his time was up last September. Since then I've been figuring out my life without him here by my side and learning how to continue on.

The steady reminders in the house are still there - but yet I've come to some sort of terms with them and they don't get me down like they used to.

The shift happened this weekend and in turn yesterday. On Friday night I went up to Bellingham with Makiah to visit with Tom and Trish. It was my first solo trip without a friend or companion with me. I walked into their house, used the restroom and found myself unable to go into the kitchen without crying. Trish and I both started sobbing together. And although it was sad, it also felt healing to finally be around someone who was there, that understood. We both held Ryan so dear in our hearts, so close to our souls - that we could cry around each other and it felt right. Merely talking about Ryan and how much we both missed him helped.

The rest of our visit was good - we created new memories and shared some laughs. I left feeling good and happy to see how much progression we've both made. Trish and Tom have an amazing friend support network and it was a relief to see how much loved they are.

Then yesterday, Monday, I went to my doctor for my annual visit. He said he was sorry and then I started bawling my eyes out. Another first. Never in a million years do you think you have to go the doctor for your annual with such a life altering experience. I shed some tears, and then felt better.

What I'm trying to get at - is that I can't believe how far I've come. Thursday will mark 8 months since Ryan passed. Seriously? Wow. 8 months can whirl by far too quickly.

I just read an article posted in this month's Outside magazine discussing some free solo antics of two famous and notorious climbers. There's talk that one of these two guys are going to attempt a free solo ascent of El Cap in Yosemite Valley. 1,600 feet plus of no ropes, gear or protection.

I can't help but think about the effect this might have on the community. It will ripple down the ranks of climbers - possibly giving someone who was teetering on the fence of whether or not to take such risk to take one. Once attempted and completed - will it sway other climbers to take the same potentially tragic risks? Will it be deemed as insane or suicidal?

Is there any way to create more awareness of the possible consequences such actions could have on others? Is it a wasted breath?

Even if your shoes weren't cluttering the basement. Even if your climbing articles weren't scattered throughout the house. Even if I looked in every nook and cranny and was thrown into the vortex of memories they created, I'd still be missing you.

Grief. It puts me on lock down at times. It makes me fritter hours away thinking about memories, sensations, good times and bad. At times it seems I can only think about your absence. It paralyzes me in ways I can't communicate to my friends or those dear to me. And I know it's something I have to deal with on my own. It's something I have to come to terms with and endure. And I'm trying the best way I can.

I woke suddenly this morning thinking about your last moments alive, plunging to the Valley floor from Goat Wall. I remember thinking to myself, oh not today. Please let me have just one day where I don't start like this - thinking about mortality and the tragity associated with it.

I wondered what Makiah heard. What reaction she had - if she looked up and saw you coming down near her or not. Much good that does me - but I still can't help but think about it.

I came across a t-shirt today that smelled like you had just taken it off. Funny how in an instant I can be transported into your arms, smelling your neck, feeling your touch...

And for the record -that shirt I'm keeping. Your shoes though - I had to move some of your shoes. And your pack is now in the basement along with your watch with the alarm that was set for 11:30pm that I would hear every night I was up late.

I still have waves of disbelief. They wash over me when I think nearly 8 months has passed. Where does the time go? Are you still watching over me? Can you feel me missing you right now? I miss you so much.

Crying is good. It's physical and soothing...

Just like Joan in the book titled, "The Year of Magical Thinking", I find that I've kept a lot of Ryan's things in hopes that he's coming back. After reading that she did the same actions - couldn't get rid of all of her husbands things - I find myself going through the closet again.

And I hit a ticking time bomb.

In his back pack, were the last things he touched. His socks, turned inside out and placed in his shoes. My Cane Creek socks from last season. His stinky feet smell long gone from then, evoked several tears. A poweraid bottle, partially sipped and collecting mold.

It won't bring him back. Keeping these things won't.

So slowly, ever so slowly, I'm going through them and dealing with their disposal.

The sun came out today. I felt its warmth on my face and felt the spring air on my partially shaven legs. As I ran through the Point Definance park, I was able to put grief out of my mind, completely. 37 straight uninterrupted minutes of quiet mind. Ah refreshing.

Spring Cleaning

I dumped a bunch of shit today. 401 k plan summaries, employee handbooks, employee reviews, etc. Old empty CD cases, shoe boxes. Realistically - what am I supposed to do with them? Hold onto them as constant reminders that you're gone and never coming back?

I even good willed some of your shoes. They were beat up and worn in such fashion that I seriously contemplating holding onto them. But then again, what good would that do me? It's hard going through our things, sorting through the life we built together. Compartmentalizing the memories, the laughter, the good times and bad that we shared.

I'm starting to explore the inevitable change that scared the crap out of me before. Starting to move things in the house out of their nooks and crannies. I was given this opportunity to create a new me - a new life. And I'm trying different things to make sure I make the most out of it.

I moved the dining room table to one side of the room as a reminder to keep plowing through my things, move them out and make room for a new me. Downsize all of the things I have, all of the reminders. All in hopes that I'll figure out what now makes me happy.

One thing is for sure - all of the material items I possess sure feel an awful lot like baggage. Even my office desk is getting a make over.

Intro...

I figured I would create a separate blog, that hopefully not that many people will follow - so I can express my true feelings of going through grief. It's a sad, hard process but also rewarding and mystifying. There are days I struggle, and days that I'm happy. The ups and downs just go with the territory. I'm happy to share my journey -but realize this is my journey.