Suddenly Me on my 39th Birthday

Nine days ago, on August 11, 2011, I turned 39 years old.  I wasn't excited.  I'd gained weight over this past year and was struggling with what to do with my life professionally, and my self-esteem could not have been much lower, but turning 39 sure wasn't helping. I'd even had what I had thought at the time to be the "birthday blues" on the day before, this overwhelming sense of dread and sadness about the next day.    

I was supposed to be flying out the next day to Minneapolis, Minnesota, then driving to Rochester for a wedding of my girlfriend's friend.  Newly single, Nichole invited me to tag along and make it girls' weekend, and I was excited about catching up with her and having time away from home and what was left of my career as an attorney - another reason why I wasn't excited about turning 39.    

I married my husband, Richard, in 1999, and in 2002, our daughter, Macy, was born.  The upcoming trip had me very concerned the day before, but I was oh, so wrong about why.  It had been years since I had gone anywhere without either Richard or Macy or both.  In my own vanity, I guess, I had this sense of dread about flying off and being so far away, thinking that something was going to happen to me, and wondering what would Richard and Macy do without me.  I didn't voice this to Richard, only that I had a sense of dread about the next day.  He, of course, thought I was nuts.

I stayed up the entire night before, as did Macy, and by the time it was time to go to the airport, I was excited again about the prospect of a few days away.  Nichole came to my house, and Richard and Macy drove us to the airport.  The mood was light, and Richard commented on how he wished he could go with us, that he had many friends in Minnesota and liked it there, and I told him I wish he was, too.  I remember a fleeting thought that I really did wish he was coming along.  He's the type of guy that can fit into any situation, even a girls' weekend, without changing what it was meant to be, and he wouldn't have complained - well, if you know him - he would have complained about EVERYTHING, but only jokingly.

He drops us off, gets our luggage out for us, and gives both Nichole and I a hug goodbye.  I hug and kiss my daughter, and walk over to my husband.  In his own loving/smart ass way, in a goofy voice, he says, "Happy f------ birthday," and gives me a quick kiss - can't be having any major PDA in front of the airport.  I laughed and said, "I love you."      

Nichole and I boarded the first plane, landed, had about an hour between flights, then were about to re-board.  Macy texts me at 12:42 p.m. after having just woke up from falling asleep on the couch after getting back home from the airport.  She and Richard had come home, he made them hot chocolate, then they watched a show together in the family room.  After about an hour and having been up all night, she fell asleep and didn't awake until she started texting me.  She wanted to go to White Water with her friends and wanted me to text her Dad and ask him.  I told her she needed to work it out with him and to go talk to him.  After getting on the plane, she texts me again that she can't find him, so I tell her he's probably outside and to call his phone.  I also tell her that the phones are about to be cut off because the plane was about to take off.  About 40 minutes later, we are able to turn on our phones again in the air, and my phone is lit up with missed texts and a phone message from Macy.  I only see the texts from Macy at first.  I had only had my phone off for about 3-5 minutes when Macy texts me that she has found Richard in the bathroom on the floor and that he won't move.  The texts become more panicked as they go along.  My heart sinks as I'm texting her back to call 911 and asking her if she was serious, hoping this was a terrible, terrible joke that she and her Dad have played on me.  

It was no joke.  As we approached Minneapolis and were preparing to land, I call his cell phone and a co-worker of mine answers, we're then cut off, but in my heart I knew.  There was no other reason for my co-worker to be at my home answering my husband's cell phone.  Immediately upon landing, before I'm off the plane, I call my mom, I ask if he's alive, and she has to tell me he is gone.  In a matter of moments, my world has collapsed around me.  I'm in an airport in Minneapolis, hundreds of miles from home, unable to protect or comfort my daughter, with the knowledge that I wasn't there when my love collapsed and died in our home, and that my daughter had to find him, alone and terrified.  

For 3 hours, Nichole and I waited in a conference room at the airport with the sound of a cheap clock ticking on the wall, waiting to fly back home.  I then see the phone message from Macy from earlier when I was in flight, and decided that I should listen so I would know what she went through and would be more prepared when I saw her.  I could feel the desperation in the sound of her voice, and it cut my like nothing ever before.

My husband died, and I wasn't there.  My daughter found him, and I wasn't there.  All of the feelings of sadness and dread from the day before suddenly made sense.  Except in my own vanity, I was fearful of how my husband and daughter would go on without me, thinking something horrible was going to happen to me.  It never crossed my mind that this strong, invincible man that took care of us wasn't in fact invincible.    

Instead, I'm here wondering today how I and my daughter go on without him.  This wonderful, loving, adventurous man that gave everything of himself for his family is gone, and I must face the fact that suddenly, it's just me.  

This past year, I haven't liked myself very much, or at least I haven't been happy with the way my professional life has turned out, which I guess I have internalized as me being a failure personally.  I feel a lot of guilt for the wife that I wasn't, for adding stress to my husband when he had too many plates to balance as it was, and I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself for all of the woulda, coulda, shoulda things that never happened because of my own insecurities and being more worried about myself than him.

It's going to be a long road ahead, and somewhere I have to find a way within myself to pick myself up and move forward for the sake of my daughter.  

But, today, I just miss my Hunny Bunny.

My husband died on my 39th birthday, and now it's suddenly me......