7 years...

7 years ago, my life derailed. It literally blew up in Pablo's face. And not a day has gone by since where I don't miss him, that I don't feel that ache inside.

A few days ago, I was driving to Queens to pick up Baby Girl. She was visiting Pablo's sister for the weekend. As I drove, I listened to my iPod. Everything was cool until Patty Loveless's "How Can I Help You Say Goodbye?" came on. I was hit with a wave of sadness and grief so strong that I nearly pulled over. As I choked down sobs, I wondered, "Whose life was that? Who's left a widow at 26, while pregnant? That only happens in the movies!" These thoughts weigh heavily on my mind nowadays as my new husband and I contemplate having babies.

I can't help but fear that the exact same thing is going to happen. And how selfish and stupid of me it is! As if my pain can compare to the fact that Pablo never got hold his baby in his arms, that he never saw how perfect she was. But in some ways, Pablo's pain was brief. He will never know the pain of loss. The pain of feeling a loved one torn away.

One of the most thoughtless things I heard in those early days was "You're young, you'll find someone new." As if it was merely a thing that had been damaged or lost. As if any one person can replace another. Now that I've remarried, it may be surprising to think that I still mourn the loss of not only my first husband, but a dear friend.

I still think of him every day. There are moments when I yearn for a glimpse of an alternate reality, a reality where he met his daughter and where he became the father I always knew he'd be. I usually banish those thoughts quickly because the pain is still sharp. There will always be a part of me that never heals, that always remains grief-stricken over the loss of someone so young, over the loss of our life together. Even as I amaze myself with the girl I once was, on that cold January day 7 years ago, to the person I've become today, I know a part of me will hurt forever.

This memorial post now becomes my yearly appeal to you all. Tomorrow is never promised to anyone. If there's anyone who you've been meaning to call or see, just do it today. For me. For Pablo.

We miss you always, Pablo.

In Memory of Angel DeJesus

On July 19, 2009, our dear grandfather, Angel DeJesus, passed away from complications related to Alzheimer's. For close to a decade, he suffered from the ravages of the disease. I will never forget the day in 2004 when we "lost" him. He was at our uncle's house and just wandered out. After searching our town for a couple hours, we finally found him at a local grocery store. We were terrified during those few hours, with thoughts that he could easily wander into traffic and get seriously hurt.

It was around that time that the family realized that we could no longer care for our grandfather, and that he would have to receive care from an Alzheimer's facility. He would spend the rest of his days well cared for in a facility specializing in the care of Alzheimer's patients. For us, the worst part of the disease was seeing our once proud patriarch become a senile patient who could do very little for himself. (Grandpa used to dye his hair black. Once his mind was truly taken captive by the disease, he no longer dyed it. It was jarring to see him with a white head of hair.)

Almost 50% of people who reach 85 have Alzheimer's disease. Like many diseases, it not only affects the patient but touches all of his family and friends. On May 1st, my sister, Jessica DeJesus will be participating in the Bike to End Alzheimer's. Please help us (every little bit helps!) raise funds to further research this disease. Thank you for your time.

Donate here: http://2011biketoendalz.kintera.org/jessica

6 years. That's how long it's been. 6 years since The Accident, The Day That Changed My Life. Yes, it requires caps.

Not a day goes by that I don't think about That Day. However, in the past 6 years, it's gotten easier to push it out of my head and focus on the man I lost. Why dwell on the terrible way his life ended when I can celebrate how he lived? Lately, Baby Girl has been asking more and more about her father. She's also displaying lots of his idiosyncrasies. It takes my breath away how like him she is sometimes. The worst is when she asks when he's coming back. I gently explain to her that he isn't and she carries on with her day. I wish more than anything that she had her father.

However, it's something I have to live with. Talking to her about him will always be emotional. I live every day knowing how easily, how quickly we can lose it all. It's a small price to pay for having had him in my life.

I miss you, Pablo. You were my best friend.

5 days into 2011 and things seem to be going swimmingly. Or so it would seem. With a 6th anniversary rapidly approaching, I've found myself in tears every so often. I'm grateful it usually happens when I'm alone in the car, as I like to keep my grief to myself.

For some reason, every January I replay the weeks leading up to the Accident. I remember the birthday cake for my birthday on Jan. 1st. I remember flying home from DR on Jan. 2nd. I remember the phone call from him on Jan. 4th, calling to wish me a happy birthday. I remember going to the airport to pick him up on Jan. 8th. This will happen all month long until Jan. 25th.

People may think it's been long enough and life has gone back to normal. There will never be a normal after that. In the first few bleak days, I survived. In the following couple of years, I merely existed. I breathed, ate, slept, etc., just because I had to. I'm absolutely happy now. But there will always be part of me that grieves the man I lost that day, over the dreams I had, over the little girl who will never meet her dad (and the man who will never meet his daughter).

I'm glad the good days far outnumber the bad. I've grown to accept the bad as proof of how much he meant to me, how much he meant to all of us.

And how quickly things can change. 12 hours after my last post, my fiance called me to tell me that Sellers weren't exactly out of their last contract.

I don't understand their motivations - why court another potential Buyer when you're under contract? Why try to entangle us in potential litigation for interfering with their contract when they've got someone lined up? I don't get it.

I guess it's back to the drawing board.

We have recently been in the process of looking for a house and it has certainly been an adventure. We had originally decided on a nearby city, and were quickly discouraged when we saw that prices were still pretty high in that area. In order to get the house we wanted, we expanded our search.

Two months in, we found 2 amazing houses. They were so amazing, it took us a week to decide which house to pick. We finally made a choice and were ecstatic with it. And then the issues started mounting. No house is perfect, so we compromised with this house - it was on a busier road than we would've liked, it had a pool - something that worried us (maintenance and children), and would need a new roof and furnace, and didn't have a finished basement. Like I said, you make compromises when purchasing a home, unless you're paying enough to get everything you want. However, the final straw came when our mortgage officer told us we'd need flood insurance. It was the first we'd heard about that, and quickly looked to FEMA maps. Nothing. Elevation reports - nothing. The house was definitely in a flood zone, and we definitely wouldn't compromise on that.

I was sorely disappointed - it truly was a beautiful home - but we couldn't bend. As soon as we heard about the flood zone issue, we started looking at other homes. We immediately found a gorgeous home, but since we were tied up with the first contract, we couldn't negotiate with the seller. By the time we got out of the contract, the 2nd house had been snapped up. I was crushed. It was starting to seem like we'd never find anything (I might be a bit dramatic at times), but there was nothing else to do. I started looking at other houses, listing the ones I liked but there were so few that caught my eye now that we'd gotten used to the likes of the first couple of houses we were considering.

That was until yesterday. I got a call from my fiancé, and he was telling me, "The deal fell through, the deal fell through." I had no idea what he was talking about, but he finally told me that the buyers for the gorgeous house we'd seen had walked away from the contract! We knew we had to act fast and now we've put in an offer. Nothing's final till the sellers have signed, but we're so close I can taste it!

Little blog, I've got great news. I'm engaged!! I'm so happy.

The boyfriend proposed while we were on vacation in the Philippines. It was the sweetest thing - he took me to bluff overlooking the ocean just outside our villa, after dinner, and simply asked "Will you marry me?" Of course I said yes.

I have been incredibly lucky to have fallen in love with my best friend. I've known him since college back in the late 90s. We went to law school together, and we've been close friends ever since. I thank my lucky stars for this wonderful, sweet, funny man.

I noticed that it's been almost a year since I last updated. I cannot believe how quickly time goes by. On Jan. 25th, it will be 5 years since he left us. My daughter turns 5 in March. She begins kindergarten in September. I cannot believe it!

I don't recognize that 26 year-old girl I was when I was first widowed. I hurt for her, my heart breaks for her. My greatest fear is having the same pain invade my world again.

5 years later, I can honestly say that I'm doing okay. Life does go on, and you have no choice to continue. I also have a wonderful daughter who keeps me firmly in the here and now. A few days ago, she asked me how her father died. I explained as simply as I could that there had been an accident. There is time for the gruesome details later. For now, I'm glad that he is part of her life.

The time immediately following his death was spent surviving. Merely existing. I breathed because my body told me to. My heart pumped because it does it on its own. I ate because the baby inside me required me to. I slept because my weary body collapsed at night. Eventually, though, you begin to once again appreciate the green of the grass, your child's laugh, the taste of an ice cream cone. You once thought you'd never LIVE again, but you do overcome.

One of the most frustrating things in dealing with all this has been the idea that I did everything right, and for what? My life seems to be a series of jokes, and I just want to breathe for a minute. I don't think that's too much to ask for.

I just want a simple life. God, can't you help someone out?

4 years ago, my world was rocked.

I was on the cusp of the rest of my life: recently graduated from law school, happy in my clerkship, pregnant with our first child, and happy with Him. In a little over two months, we were going to be parents! We were happily chugging along in our life together.

Then, a little after noon on 1/25/05, I got the phone call that changed my life, and me, forever. There'd been an accident. That's all I was told. My sister rushed to pick me up. I knew He was dead when I saw the looks my uncles gave me when I got home. My dad sat me down and confirmed what I already knew. I still, to this day, can't imagine what it feels like to look your little girl in the eye and say the words that you know will break her heart.

It's funny - I remember the stupidest details from that day. I was chatting about Beyonce on the Fametracker forums when my sister called me. I was wearing a blue fair isle sweater (that I never wore again). I didn't eat again for two days, when I was finally forced to by my mother. I remember so clearly getting to the hospital, having the officer tell me "He didn't make it" (I naively held out hope, hoping, wishing, praying that they'd gotten it wrong, that He was ok).

Instead, I was widowed. At 26. And 7 months pregnant. We didn't even know what we were having, since we wanted to keep it a surprise.

However, life goes on, and I am amazed at how far I've come. I never thought I'd be happy again, and I am. It's a new chapter - hell, sometimes I think it's a whole new book. And I never thought this little girl, this amazing, wonderful little girl would ever captivate me this way. I am so lucky to be her mom.

Pablo, this one's for you.

And so it comes. Last week, I turned 30. I was all kinds of nervous, because I read so much about other widows/ers going through weirdness when they turned their deceased spouses' age when DS died. Pablo was 30 when he died, about to turn 31. But I'm hoping that things will be all good.

Finally I went through a set of holidays that were actually enjoyable. I'm happy that I'm able to enjoy this time of year again, and only a little guilty at not missing him as much. Stupid guilt.

Another thing I've been feeling the guilt about is how happy I am in my Chapter 2 relationship. Things are going swimmingly, other than a few normal relationship kinks. For example, we've been together almost 2 years, and I'd love to take a trip with him, but we haven't been able to match schedules yet. Sigh. We've got to get on a plane sometime in 2009. I'll make it happen.

I'm def. not looking forward to later this month. Jan. 25th will be the 4 year anniversary of his death. I can't believe it's been 4 years! I can still relive almost every single day after my birthday till that horrible day. Where does the time go?

I can tell it's been awhile that I hadn't written since I had so much to spill. A few weeks ago, we were driving behind the cemetery where Pablo is buried, and Baby Girl giddily says: "Papi Pablo's there, papi Pablo's there!" That hurt my heart, to know that my girl only knows her dad as "someone who's buried somewhere".

Wow, it's been 7 years since 9/11. Time really does fly. I'm not going to reminisce, because everyone has their stories about where they were when they first heard. I'm just thinking of all the people who lost loved ones in that tragedy. In a way, it must suck to have their grief dredged up every year for all to see. I'm very private in my grief, so I think it'd be a little tiring to have America's eyes on you on such a hard day.

In another way, it seems like it'd facilitate the marking of the anniversary. Everyone is grieving in one or another, so no one thinks you're weird or crazy for still grieving. I've found that some people expect you to be "all better now!" when some time has gone by. Huh, as if.

I didn't realize that another death - especially to someone who I didn't know very well - could shake me up as much as it has. When I woke up on Friday morning, I was greeted with the news that a friend of my sister's had been killed. He was a police officer in our town, and he had been on duty, driving a prisoner to the jail, when his car was hit on the driver's side. He was only 31, had been married a few years, and was expecting his first baby. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

It was just too damn similar to my own story. I immediately went on the internet, hoping against hope that our neighbor had gotten the story wrong. I was just crushed when I saw him name there, when the report confirmed his death. I just thought back to my own Worst Day Ever, 1/25/05. I know that 8/22/08 will have the same significance to his widow. This is something I would never wish on anyone, a club we wish no one would ever join. Unfortunately, life always has something in store for us.

It's now been over 3 years since That Day. I can tell I have gotten better. It's taken a lot of work, and of course, it's something that will be with me always. But I did notice that while I wasn't paying attention, I have begun to be happy again. But then things like this happen to just push me right back to where I started, even if I know how to crawl out of the hole now.

Today, Baby Girl broke my heart. I took her to the park, to play on the swings and in the fountain they have. She was having a great time, and watching her run around and play made me wish her dad was there to watch her also.

While I was pushing her on the swings, I saw an old friend. I said hi, and asked Baby Girl to turn around and say hi, since that friend knew Pablo, and would like to see his daughter. BG asked who it was, and I told her that was a friend of her dad's. She replied: "That's my dad?!" It was like a knife twisting. Her voice just sounded so hopeful. Sigh.

Lately, time's just been zipping by. I guess I should update where I am right now.

Baby Girl starts pre-school next month! It's very exciting. I can't believe she's already at the age where she can go to school. I've been busy shopping for some school clothes for her, and searching for the perfect book bag. It's funny, I think her book bag and lunch box will be more of statement about me, than about her.

The case that stemmed from the Accident is close to its conclusion. Part of me is relieved to have this over with, and anxious to move on with my life. The other part of me feels guilty that I am receiving a "windfall" from His death. I knew that was to be expected but am still surprised to be going through it.

Finally, I had heard about people who, after being so catastrophically hurt emotionally, become evasive towards the new partner or even sabotage it subconsciously. I always thought that was ridiculous, and vowed I'd never do it. Joke's on me, because it seems that I'm doing exactly that. I will not go into specifics, but I find myself doing the same things over and over again, knowing that it will upset my loving boyfriend. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I taking advantage of this wonderful man? I'm scared that one day I will lose him, after pushing him over the brink.

Wow. I hadn't noticed just how long it's been since the last time I posted. I guess I should update...

I now have a boyfriend. Well, not now. He's been around for awhile. And he makes me very happy. Unfortunately, it's led me to an emotion I didn't think I'd experience - guilt. I sometimes feel guilty for being happy, and I know it's irrational, but it's still there. I hate experiencing these things, but the only thing I can do is manage them. You can't really quell them.

The other day, I had the most extraordinary thing happen to me. I was riding the train to work, and I was staring out the window. The glare of the sun was hurting my eyes, and I thought to myself "Goddamn this sun." I then turned my head and standing almost right behind me was a blind man. I immediately felt horrible. Here I was, with the wonderful gift of sight, damning something that this man probably wished he could see. That made me realize that even though some things seem horrible, I'm infinitely luckier than a lot of people out there.

Last night, I spent 4 hours in the ER. Everything turned out fine, Sammy had just hurt her wrist. I was afraid she'd broken anything, so I took her, and the xrays came back negative. She still needed a splint, and it broke my heart to see her little arm get wrapped up, and then put in a little sling.

What really got me though was that yesterday had been the first time I'd stepped into that ER since That Day. I actually felt a little woozy when I stepped inside, and when they ushered me into the waiting area. It was just all too much. I couldn't help but think of That Day. Of the noise, the movement all around, the police walking up to me and telling me "he didn't make it." But, I just saw his brother - how did he not make it, and his brother did? I couldn't help thinking "why am I here?"

I can't believe it's already December. In 8 short weeks, we'll be marking the 3rd anniversary of Pablo's death. 3 years. I cannot believe it.

3 years ago, we were preparing for our first vacation to Dominican Republic. I look back fondly on that last vacation we took, and still hate that we never got the chance to go back as a family, with Baby Girl. Especially since it seems Baby Girl & I might be going in February. We'll see - but I know that's going to be on my mind, as I make my decision, and if I do go, all during the trip.

The other thing that is weighing heavily on my mind is the fact that we're now in the holiday season. Of course it's a difficult time for us, but I get the feeling that it'll be a little bit easier this year. I will still be upset at the fact that he's not with us, but maybe I'm just getting used to it.

I passed my Bar Exam! I am so excited and relieved.

It's kind of a bittersweet accomplishment by this point. I really wish I could've shared this news with Pablo, and gotten his reaction. I know he would've been proud and happy for me, but I still wish I could've seen it.

In other things, Baby Girl has learned the word "Daddy". However, I don't think she understand exactly what it is. Last week, her cousin was over, and they were playing together with dolls, and her cousin kept saying "My daddy this" and "My daddy that", and Baby Girl took the word and ran with it. When we went to our weekly Gymboree music class, she called the gentleman sitting next to us "daddy". Sigh. As a matter of fact, she's playing one room over from where I am right now, and I hear her saying "Daddy, where are you?" Keep in mind, she doesn't equate "Daddy" with her father, who we all call "Papi" (the Spanish word for Dad/Daddy). But it still breaks my heart to hear her say that.

Nothing like a high school reunion to make you evaluate where you are in your life. 10 years ago, I saw myself satisfied with my job, happily married and with 1 or two rugrats. One out of three ain't bad, huh?

Yesterday was my god-son's fourth birthday. Do you know what it's like to be in a room with all these couples, all with their perfect two-sets, boy and girl? Blech. Makes me wonder what the hell I did wrong in my prior life. And I know it's irrational to think that way, but I just get curious sometimes as to why I won this horrific lottery, while most people my age just wander through their lives, blissfully unaware of what could befall them. Yes, this is the "blinders" approach to life, as I'm sure I'm hardly the only person to suffer hardship, but it definitely feels that way sometimes.