Saturday, September 30, 2006 - 8 pm

For whatever reason, this week has sort of sucked. The farther I get away from the date of Mike’s death, the more often I am able to find a new kind of “normal” – however, when my grief hits me, it seems to hit harder than ever.

I had a couple of down days in the early part of the week, not helped by my getting sick on Monday night. Wednesday I learn it was tonsillitis with a 102 fever. Had to cancel class, but thank gosh for CSM who picked up Bax from school, helped take care of him at night and in the morning, even though I was there (dead to the world, but there).

Antibiotics worked like a charm, so I’m already feeling almost 100% again.

Today was Sash and Dee’s baby shower for their twins due in December. It was held at their friend’s house out on Lincoln Drive. I didn’t think a bit about the emotional charge associated with seeing all of “the family” and all of Sasha and Dees relatives all in the same place. We haven’t really all been together since their beautiful wedding in September of 2004 up in Western Massachusetts that was like 3 days of cabin/summer camp bliss. We were 6 months pregnant, Mike was healthy, all our friends were there and the weather was fantastic.

The other thing I had failed to process ahead of time was the major Discmakers connection that would be there. Sasha’s dad used to co-own Discmakers, Sasha’s cousin was Mike’s supervisor and dear friend, Sasha’s other cousin was our wedding photographer and also loved by one Michael Young. And all these lovely people were sitting on the front porch as I walked up the walkway with my son. I tried to greet and hug, but by the time I got to Sasha’s brother (who I hadn’t seen since their wedding) I was a disaster. Like a couldn’t-get-my-shit-together disaster.

Thank gosh Meh and Heather were there to sort of diffuse the weird energy so that Baxter wasn’t too upset. (I try to never lose my shit in front of him). Then, I got inside and saw Sasha and it was another wave of sobs. Kevin and Beth were there. In fact, Kevin was the first face my brain registered when I came in. The perfect person to be sitting in the chair closest to the door. He escorted me out, Meh was on Baxter duty, and I just fell apart. After about 10 minutes I made a decision that I had to at least greet the moms to be.

Fortunately, the longer I stayed, the more diluted the weird energy became, to the point where it was just a new experience – not a flashback to an old experience with a big gaping hole in the middle.

Baxter still mentions Daddy several times a week. The other night, I put him to bed in his crib, We said I love you and he kissed the picture of Mike that he sleeps with. Then, all of a sudden, Baxter, who was lying on his belly, lifted his head and upper body up with his arms and had a huge smile. In a whisper he said, “Mama, Listen!” Then he pointed to his ear (a gesture I think he has learned from Dora the Explorer).

“What is it?” I asked.

“Shh… Daddy’s coming!” he whispered loudly.

“What?” I tried to be calm.

He said it again. I leaned my forearms and head on the edge of his crib and breathed slowly, trying to just take it in stride. I think I was also waiting for Mike. I never saw him, though part of me thinks I felt him.

Tonight, Bax took some giant legos into the tub with him. After bath, he took four of them and put them together into a tower.

“Nice job, Bud! Now, let’s bring those into Baxter’s room!” Apparently, using the third person with toddlers is supposed to help with their comprehension. Anything to get the process to move along.

My little naked redheaded boy ran out of the bathroom, blocks in hand, into the hallway. He stopped in the open doorway to his room, held up the tower and yelled, “Daddy, Look! Look, Daddy!”

Yeah... I don't know what to say either. I just looked around the room and smiled. He's in there - somewhere.


Anonymous said...

Hey you -
I know I can never fill the void you feel, but wanted you to know that I love, love, love you every minute of every day. xoxo
Big bear hugs to you and Bax, Jae

Anonymous said...

You've been on my mind so much lately. Finding a new normal...it feels right and strange at the same time. I don't know what it is yet though. So I still stay up too late, and eat too much food that's bad for me, and watch too much t.v. And then I think of you and Baxter and remember that nothing is too hard, though it certainly seems that way sometimes. I love you and that's all. I just love you.

Mary C.

dizzlepop said...

I don't know you. I stumbled across this blog months ago after finding your husband's obituary from my old part of town. I find it hard not to read about your days and nights and how you are coming along. I really don't have much to say other than that. Be cool!

Susan Hutton DeAngelus said...

You have endured so much! I just burst into tears reading about Bax and his Daddy visits. They are so beautiful and I'm sure very hard for you. Love and prayers with you always. - Susan Hutton DeAngelus

Anonymous said...

Ed has been away on business this week. Mason has missed him terribly. He's been kissing and hugging his picture. How do you explain to a 17-month old that Daddy is away on business. Then I stop and think of you and Baxter. I thank my lucky stars that daddy is only away on "business." I never realized just how close a father/son relationship can be until I saw Mason and Ed together. After seeing it I really do believe that Baxter hears, sees, and feels Mike.



Jalena said...

Just want you to know I've been thinking of you and the Baxman.

Anonymous said...

This past Wed. after Susan came home with Bax, we got to play and hear about the letter "C". Jake and Becca and Bax were having a lot of fun riding bikes and Becca's pink scooter when Bax found my phone he told Susan and me that Daddy was on the phone. I smiled when I heard him say that b/c I think it means he remembers and feels good to know that Daddy loves him. I hope you smile each time he feels Mike around him. If there is a higher being, maybe it allows the innocent to really feel those who have left us here on earth... something we wish we could feel too. Have a better week.


CSM said...


Went to see David Sedaris at the Kimmel last nite. As always, he was brilliant. Thought about Mike alot while there. Thought about reading Sedaris to him while he was at Jeff... esp. up on 6. He'd have his eyes closed alot while I read to him, but when I got to a funny part, he'd chuckle to let me know he was "there." And he'd nod-- esp. at the end of the stories... which comforted me... cuz I knew that he "got it"-- the subtext of what Sedaris was saying... and, to me, the fact that he "got it" meant that Mike was still "in there"... and that comforted me even more.

To top the evening off, we had no wait getting out of the parking garage... and on our way home, we had green lights all the way down Locust. ALL THE WAY-- EVERY SINGLE LIGHT. And even onto 7th. It was the most bizarre thing. No other cars, really. Just us-- and green lights every where. I honestly thought Mike had something to do with that. Maybe he was thanking me for reading to him. I'm gonna stick with that as the explanation.


Anonymous said...

Hi Danna. I found your blog through one of your friends and I just want to say I think you are amazing. You are so strong and yet so real at the same time. I have a 15 month old and every time my husband and I have major issues to deal with I think of you and Mike. I think about the fact that most of my complaints are about bullshit. I wish I could do something for you. You have my best wishes every single day.

Anonymous said...

CSM - I thought of your latest comment as I came back from grocery shopping tonight. At each intersection, red or green, I thought of your experience coming home last night. Hitting green lights all the way down Locust after seeing David Sedaris ... Hmmm... I, too, believe was Mike's way of thanking you for reading to him. I am certain that Mike is now in a little part of what we do each day - and sometimes, once in a while, he give us each a special little reason to smile to ourselves. In this, he continues to teach us how to live, appreciate, and enjoy today. What an amazing gift from a wonderful man. -- Danna & Bax, you're in our thoughts always. With love.