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I suppose I could be a better person,a better mother- but I do what I can each day that goes by. In order to survive this.

Nicole had both her best friend and her boyfriend with her for the photographs. Should I have been there? Probably. But I couldn't. So I didn't. And she understood. The three of us do what it takes to do this. To make it through an event that nothing would have us believe would ever happen to our little family. I cannot look at the things that would remind me of him right now. I am afraid of getting lost in the pain of it all. All of this is quite normal, I am assured by my counselor.

Leonard was the biggest and brightest part of my life. When you find the one who believes in you, cherishes you, holds you above all others. The one you realize you were meant to spend the rest of your life with, it is a glorious moment. We belonged together, with our children. And then, he was taken from me. And all of the good that was my life (that I sometimes feel I did not appreciate) was gone. If I were to have ended it all, I would have (and could have) done so on that day. But I couldn't (and wouldn't) do that to my children. It would be oh so very easy to just stop taking the medicines that keep me healthy. They call it passive suicide, and I would be lying if I didn't say I wasn't tempted many times to do just that. But I didn't, and I haven't. I wake up each morning and breathe through each day. Sometimes I am a horrible mess. Sometimes I lay down at night and think,"This day was not quite as gutwrenching as the others..." Many times I lay down very late (as I will tonight) because I must physically and mentally exhaust myself to the point that all is a blur. Somedays I pretend I am someone completely different just to make it through.

Because, In honesty, I don't want to do this without him. As I told my father just yesterday,"I need him." I always will need him. He was It for me. I was lucky, and yet not lucky enough. I am only grateful that I treasured him, us, and our life together (for the most part. We weren't perfect) but it would never have been enough. I have pushed my father away somewhat, because I love him, and he deserves happiness. I felt he was doing some sort of penance with regard to guilt he holds over his actions and words that weekend. We all are feeling guilt with regard to our actions. It is an unfortunate pay out in this situation. My daughter, I think, most of all carries that baggage. All I can do is stay alive for her on a daily basis. Which is what I am attempting to do.

I don't mean for this post to be a downer, it is just that I have had am almost too difficult time of it lately. But, for those who worry, take some solace in the fact that I am still here. And, if I am still here after the pain of the last 2 days... then things have to be "okay". I'm okay. As okay as I can be without the one that I need.

I appreciate all of your concern and all of your love. This is one of my "letting it all out" places and sometimes it is less than pretty. Sometimes it is a very real person attempting to survive the thing she worried about most throughout all of our love together. That something would happen to take this beautiful man away from me. Something did happen... and I'll never truly get over it.

Enough Already with the Snow

I half heartedly, hobbled around shoveling bits of it in the driveway yesterday. It was the heavy kind that, if you don't get it up right away, sinks into itself all slushlike. I waited too long. James helped, and we did manage to get the front part done. So there's that.

And...

....then...

I woke up to the news that we are up for 35 hours of snow, starting tomorrow afternoon. Up to 12 inches. Have I mentioned that I used to love snow? That it made me all warm and fuzzy and cuddle up with my husband-y? I detest it now. Give us some Spring already.

I am feeling,lately (who am I kidding, you all know me by now) really tired and worthless. I keep meaning to write a list of all the things I should do on a daily basis to help me get through the day with things to do. A good day is actually putting jeans on before James is off to school. I find myself wondering why is it the bank is calling? I answer and they are calling because, yes you sent in the payment...only you forgot to put the check in. Sure as sure, there it is, written out in the check book.

I appreciate the kind thoughts, the wishes, the hugs, the prayers. A lot of days they are all that keeps a girl going.

Nicole had her senior pictures (yes, late I am) taken last night with her best girlfriend. This is the girlfriend I have mentioned before. The one who is a daughter to us. They had a couple taken together and Nicole had some taken in her father's work shirt as well as a few with his senior picture. I chickened out of going at the last minute, claiming illness. Technically, I was not feeling well, but I usually don't let that stop me. I just didn't have the heart to watch. I think they will probably be beautiful... if I could only look at them.

Scattered thoughts

I could write so much here but that would require thinking. Thinking clearly is not my forte lately. I am having a really, really difficult time. A time when it would be so easy to give it up. No worries, I'm not. I only want to.

Did anyone else watch the Royalty special on ABC last night? I did. It was rather interesting. We tuned in (thanks tivo) after the premier of "Little People, Big Word" (how long are they going to drag out the DUI trial anyway?) and I found it rather interesting. William looks much cuter in uniform than out. Harry is a looker no matter what he is wearing and the Queen and Prince Charles both come off as likeable. I also think they could have had a bit more on the public reaction to having a monarchy. The anger of the man who wants America to take the Queen home with us was interesting to hear. And I would have liked to have heard more from those who are less than thrilled with the "Pomp" of it all. The taxpayers pay for it and their voices should be heard.

Brett Favre is retiring. Yes many of you can't and won't care. I was raised a Packer fan. I married a football agnostic, initiated him into love of all things football, and then watched him run to the Lions. Today is a bitter and sad, lonely day. Brett started with the Packers the year my husband and I met each other again and fell in love. Coincidentally he married his high school sweetheart within days of our wedding. (no we did not plan that, I'm not crazy...) And he retired after the last year I spent with my husband. See? I can connect anything to this unending hurt. This hurt that feels as if it has invaded and destroyed anything that was good that was left within me. Each day that passes I fear I need him more. That is scary to contemplate.

Nicole had a really nice birthday. I am struggling with the thought of her being 18, of James being 9...of no one to share it with who cares as much as he did. I just want him back. Can't anyone do that for us? For Me?

I got an email from an aunt of his the other day. She was one we spent a lot of time with. She listed our house, sold us this one and went out with us on our search for our dream house on land many a time. After a series of back and forth emails, she finally gets it...

"I think you're right, Laura. I don't think any of us can fully understand what Leonard's loss means to you. I always thought there was great love between the two of you. You seemed to be on the same wave length whether you were talking or not. I wish that you and Leonard could have had that country house."

And I think about that... and how that wave length has been irrepairably broken. I am lost, alone and so very, very sad today.

Happy Birthday, Brown Eyed Girl

I remember. I remember dreading your birth and being excited about your birth. Scared and alone. Happy and joyously exhuberant. That's what happens when your mom is just a kid, herself.

I remember you, a little lion...or was it a lamb? In your first snowsuit, ready to come home. I remember thinking we had a lifetime.

I remember first steps to greet me at my car. First words. Hugs and kisses. Rocking in the chair to Crystal Gayle and dancing you around the room to "Brown Eyed Girl". I remember the sweetness that was your Daddy-to-be, rocking you to sleep the first time he met you. A Daddy/Daughter love affair started.

I remember the "I gotta Go POOPS really, really BAD" trip to Mackinac. The first day of school. You, in play. A play the director didn't think you could be in, until your 5 year old self assured him, "I can


too read..." And you did. Better than a lot of the 5th graders there.

Our wedding day. I remember that too. You with the corsage, and the really big smile... as you held your daddy's hand on the walk from the car.

A new baby brother and the day Daddy made you really and truly ours...

I remember stubborness and unclean rooms. Arguments and tears. But I try not to. Focus on the positive.

I remember the Spelling Bee. How would I, could I ever forget... a trip to D.C., forced marches, fun and love.

Basketball, Softball, and Volleyball games. Years of seemingly endless drives to practices and games.

The first year of high school. Looking back and realizing how quickly that lifetime together would pass.

And now, 18... 18, and almost grown up. The time passed far too quickly. And sometimes it seems as if it didn't happen at all-this life we all had together.

Happy birthday Brown Eyed Girl. We have always been proud of you and we have always loved you.