Something in the last hour has got me all weepy. He's not here, and I want so much to tell him about what's going on. Since we started dating I don't think a single day went by that we didn't talk. We were on the phone constantly. It's just such a huge hole in my life - I teeter around the edges of it trying not to fall in, but balance is tricky. It isn't that I don't know what to do without him, it's just that it's never as much fun when I can't tell him about it.

Thanksgiving.

I love this holiday. All that 'bah humbug' I was blogging about before - that all comes AFTER Thanksgiving. What better reason for a holiday than to eat? Ok, ok, to eat AND think about all the blessings in your life.

Let's count some, shall we?

1: Elliot
2: The Best (and maybe strangest) Family. Period. And it just keeps growing.
3: Friends who amaze me with their love and support
4: Third Degree
5: Neighbors who believe in community. My block rocks.
6: Obama
7: Freedom of speech
8: Yarn. Lots and lots of yarn.
9: Knit Night
10: The RSS Loophole, which is letting me keep my house.
11: My camcorder and my Mac helping me hold on to Karl a little better
12: Did I mention my friends and family? Who could fall apart with this much support?
13: The Internet
14: FulcrumMonkey - Karl's own words out there for everybody, especially Elliot
15: Chocolate
16: Photography
17: Airplanes and the ease of travel they afford. Seriously, how much richer is my life for trips to Australia, Japan, and all over the US? Love airplanes.
18: Peace. I'm grateful that I live in a safe, stable democracy that can change without a bloody civil war.
19: My house full of beautiful memories
20: Everybody who is helping with Elliot's college fund. Thank you so very much.
21: Karl. Duh. This list is not necessarily in any hierarchical order, see?
22: Fireplaces, fuzzy slippers, down comforters - all things that make winter warmer.
23: Ajax. Most days.
24: Karl's amazing students, who raised $2K for Elliot's fund.
25: Patience
26: Hope
27: This beautiful life and the time I have to live it.

Happy Thanksgiving

Jingle some bells, dammit, I need cheer!

Today it's 1 month till Christmas. For quite a few years now I've suffered depression around the holidays. I don't know exactly when I became a humbug, but I nearly ruined our first (married) Christmas together when I failed to pick up on Karl's hints and enthusiasm about the season. Our second year (last year!) I did much better. Whether because of my guilt over the previous year's disasters or my excitement about the coming years events, I was very nearly jolly. Well, maybe not jolly, but I felt much better than I had for many a Christmas-past.

This year I'm a little worried. With the glorious fall (I credit Karl for the weather - wherever he is I think he's pulling strings) so rare for us, and all the madness and everyday mayhem of single-parenting a toddler, it's kind of crept up on me. Maybe that's good?

All I know is I hope I'm able to present Christmas to Elliot in a way Karl would love. I don't want to be sad - I don't want him to pick up on it. I want to be merry to make sure it's a beautiful, exciting, magic time for him, just like it was for his dad.

So spread what cheer you can and make the season bright - I'll be looking for the merry and trying my best to take it in.

stupid. cold. winter.

yeah, yeah, I know, it's not REALLY winter yet, but it is cold. And I'm less than thrilled about that. Planning to get away to Florida in January. Karl and I had planned to go for the holidays - we'd been trying for a year to make our schedules work. Well, I'm cold, and I'm going. So there.

It's strange how Karl being gone is so real and so unreal at the same time.

I mean, obviously he's really gone. Everything in my life reminds me of that. In every new thing that Elliot does there's a whisper of Karl's absence. He can't babble a "da" without bringing me to tears over all the words Karl won't be here to hear. With each teetering step he takes, I miss the excitement that should be there on the face of a father who so eagerly awaited catching him.

On all the surfaces of our home, once covered with debris from his daily life, memories in the form of photos, writings, audio, and video recordings pile up, threatening to cascade down in an avalanche of grief. the house itself holds on to him - sometimes I find myself running my hands down the wall and feeling the love he had for our home, our child, and our life.

He can't be gone, because so much of him is here, yet it's undeniable that he's gone, and I miss him more than words can tell...

Oh, yes. Cause of death. 2 coronary arteries blocked at 90%, 1 at 75% leading to heart attack. All other organs (liver included - can you believe it?) pretty healthy. No toxins in his system.

I chatted with many Kopitskes today. We finally got the full report from the medical examiner's office, so I wanted to share with them the findings. The report describes, in eerie detail, the inside of my husband's body. I hope you never ever have reason to read one of these. It's incredibly difficult, fascinating, creepy, moving, and strange to read of the "glistening" state, various hues, and 'remarkability' (or lack thereof) of the internal organs of somebody you love...

Anyway, the real reason I'm blogging this happens next: as I finished my calls, Elliot reached for the phone. He was tired and cranky, so rather than fight him for it, I just turned it off and handed it over. He sat beside the couch where I couldn't see him, and proceeded to play with my phone. Before I knew it, Karl's voice was speaking in the room "You've reached the cell phone of Karl Kopitske - I can't come to my cell phone right now because of class or work....." If you ever called Karl, I know you know the message I'm talking about. . .

Elliot had turned on the phone, speed-dialed his daddy, and put the call on speaker. He's only 13 months; not old enough yet to understand what he was doing, or how to make the phone work. Normally he pushes random buttons and hopes for lights and noises. Strangely, on a day when Karl's last moments were so heavy in my mind, his random play brought his father's voice unexpectedly into my ear, for which I can only say thank you, little monkey. It was good to hear from Dad.