I’ll be really honest with you. I have been dreading today for weeks. Every time I thought of February 15th, I would shove the idea away to avoid the pain. I have contemplated on whether to even acknowledge the day at all. But, now that I sit here at my laptop, I realize that not acknowledging it would be more painful.

Today would have been my ninth wedding anniversary to Eric.

I knew for months that today would be one of the harder ones to go through in this dreaded “first year” of being without him. You see, we have never been apart before on February 15th. Even when he was deployed to Iraq, he scheduled his two week leave to coincide with our anniversary. I cannot tell you how hollow I feel today, how much I ache, how much I want him here with me.

But in spite of the grief, there is an element of goodness in it all. There is always good, isn’t there? Nine years ago we started a journey that resulted in three beautiful children that are worth celebrating the moment. There were so many good memories made over the years and I find myself clinging to them in order to get through the tough days like this.

I’ve blogged before about our wedding and I think it’s appropriate to re-post a lot of it here today. It’s a long one, but it’s our story.

[Written in 2010] Seven years ago, my husband and I started our journey of being husband and wife. But it definitely wasn’t your typical “wedding.” So, maybe you should hear the whole story.

My husband and I met through mutual friends in August of 2002 and began a whirlwind courtship in October. By New Year’s Eve, we were engaged and we were planning on a fall wedding in 2003. But my husband was in the United States Army Reserves at the time and with everything brewing in Iraq, we both knew that a deployment could happen at anytime.

So, on February 9th of 2003, I was visiting Eric at his dad’s house (we lived 2 1/2 hours apart at the time) when a phone call came in for my husband: Get ready to go to Minnesota. You’re getting activated for deployment.

Thus began a rather hectic week for us. I drove my husband to the airport the next morning (Monday) and tearfully kissed him goodbye. On the way to the airport, we made a huge decision: Let’s get married this week. (My note: My husband says we decided all of this while he was in Minnesota, but I remember it differently.)

I drove back home where my amazing parents helped me plan a wedding. We decided to keep it small and invite our closest friends and a few members of our family. We planned to get married in my parents’ living room and have a small reception dinner at Burgundy’s, a restaurant I used to work at in college in my hometown. The date (through some discussions with family) was set for February 15.

My husband was in Minnesota from Monday until Wednesday and he told me later that they kept changing the dates of his deployment (at one point, he was supposed to leave February 13) but he never told me of all the changes so I wouldn’t panic (good move).

On Tuesday, I bought my wedding dress: a white prom dress and sheer white jacket that cost a total of $35. We invited our friends and family to attend if they could. Also on Tuesday, I made the second phone call to my best friend from high school and left her another message asking her to call me back and let me know if she could be my maid of honor.

On Wednesday, I picked up my husband from the airport in Cleveland and on Thursday, we headed back to Lima to get our marriage license (which had to be expedited due to the unusual circumstances). We had a talk with a Justice of the Peace (who was actually one of my neighbors growing up) and he agreed to come to my parents’ house on Saturday. Thursday night, my husband headed back to the Cleveland area and my mom and I finished arranging things for the wedding (we got a tiered cake, bought a guest book and I picked up my husband’s wedding ring). After making a third call to my best friend from high school, I called my best friend from college and asked her if she would be willing to be my maid of honor. She said yes.

“What should I wear” she asked.

“Whatever you want,” I replied.

“So a blue flower print dress and combat boots is fine?”

“Sure, why not,” I said.

“And it doesn’t matter that I have pink hair?”

“Nope, no problem.”

So, that was taken care of, or so I thought.

Friday came and everything was still getting finalized. My husband had a bachelor party of sorts at Dave & Buster’s (if you’ve never heard of it, it’s kind of like a high-class Chuck E Cheese for adults) and I spent time with family at home. Yet another thing had taken my attention: a blizzard of sorts was brewing over the Buckeye state. And about half of our guests were from the Cleveland area. So now I had to have a backup for a maid of honor. I chose a mutual friend to both me and my husband, AJ, just in case Lindsay couldn’t make it.

Saturday morning and it’s time to get ready. My wonderful friend Adrian did my hair and my veil was the veil I wore in second grade for my First Communion, handmade by my dear Aunt Bea. The storm was still brewing and Lindsay had called to say she was on the road, but that things were going slow. Did we have our back up ready?

Yes, we have a backup.

Except, about 25 minutes later, I got a call saying AJ wouldn’t be able to attend. Her daughter was ill and they were hesitant to get on the road.

So, now I needed a backup to my backup. I chose my soon-to-be-sister-in-law Amy to stand in if necessary.

But, Lindsay showed up at my house about an hour later. And she wasn’t joking when she said she had pink hair. She still looked beautiful and I was grateful that she had made the trip. I finished getting ready and soon after, my husband arrived with his best man. (Yes, I peeked out the window. I don’t believe in superstitions.)

The ceremony was beautiful. My mom did an amazing job turning a living room into a wedding chapel of sorts. The ceremony was short and soon it was official: I was a wife.

Fast forward a couple of days and my husband dropped me off at my parents’ house and headed home (we didn’t live together nor did we have enough to get a place together). We lived apart from each other for nearly six months until Eric went active in the army and we moved to Upstate New York (but that’s for a whole other post).

For a while afterward, I kept thinking that we would have another wedding. A big, traditional wedding with lots of friends and family and dancing and all the fanfare that comes with it. But later I thought “Why?”

Our wedding was simple and yes, a little rushed.

Our wedding was non-traditional and intimate.

Our wedding wasn’t full of pomp and circumstance or fanfare.

But our wedding was perfect for us. And a wedding should be about the bride and groom. So it suited us perfectly.

So I cling to memories like this to get me through the next 24 hours and the other tough 24 hours that will no doubt come down the road. I think of going to Ireland with him, of seeing the Packers play the Bears at Lambeau Field, of the births of our two older children and the look on his face when he met them. I think of watching him walking through a field of daylilies and the look on his face when he was listening to music that he loved. I think of these things and I feel him near me. And I need to feel that. I miss so much about him that I can barely express it all. But today is not the day to try. Today is a day to remember that I got to share so much with him and that I’m grateful for it all, the good and the bad, the ordinary and the life changing. It made us who we were.

So Happy Anniversary baby. I’ll hug the kids for you today.

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We all know the type. They are the person who seem to LOVE complaining. And quite often they complain about the SAME thing over and over again. You see them approaching you or their name appears on your caller ID and you cringe a little.

I will admit that I have been “that person” from time to time but I got sick of hearing myself whine. So I started paying more attention to the behavior. From there, I implemented a few little things to make the behavior stop.

1. I determined simple solutions to the issue that was nagging at me. Things like “stop talking about it, stop thinking about it” and “change the way you respond” are examples
2. I asked my closest friends and family to stop me if I started complaining about whatever topic I was trying to get over
3. I made a concentrated effort to carry out the solution and focus on a good outcome
4. I would vent and then ultimately write about my progress in a private journal

The point is I stopped focusing on the problem and started paying attention to the solution. Do you have something in your life that you can apply this to?

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When I was seventeen, I got my second retail job at Office Max as a sales associate. I was part of the customer service team that wandered the floor and asked customers “Are you finding everything all right?”

I cannot tell you how much I loved that job.

Pens, pencils, notebooks, folders, binders… the inventory made me beyond happy. A lot of my paycheck went right back into that store on a weekly basis.

Looking at my adult life, it makes sense that I have a love of office supplies. I love to plan and I prefer being organized on a daily basis. Yes, it is a quirky thing on my part, but it’s the quirks that make me Angela.

What is a quirky thing that makes you happy?

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February is just around the corner and you know what that means… time to set goals for this month’s theme in my Happiness Project.

February’s theme is “Love.” I will admit, reading the goals I set last year were very painful considering how many of them revolved around my husband. But I still believe that love, no matter what form, is an important thing.

There is a lot of debate about how many kinds of love there are. Some say three, others four and still others five… I tend to subscribe to the belief that C.S. Lewis laid out when he described the four types of love:

• Storge (Affection)
• Phileo (Friendship)
• Eros (Romance)
• Agape (Unconditional)

Regardless of how many you think there are or how you classify them, love (in my opinion) is a truly amazing thing.

I recently watched Up in the Air for the first time. Watching Clooney’s character avoid feeling anything for anyone at all costs was… well… depressing. Granted, the thought of having no attachments (and therefore no risk of being hurt) sounds appealing at times. But at the end of the day, I want to experience love. And I do feel it everyday. Every time my kids tell me they love me or hug me or snuggle with me simply because I’m their mom… words can’t describe it.

So, February is all about love. Here are the goals that I’ve laid out (keeping in mind that I’m still working on my January goals and meshing them into my daily life):

• Make a list of RAKs (Random Acts of Kindness) and follow through on several of them
• Read a wonderful love story
• Find ways to teach my children how to show love
• Live a forgiving life (one of the greatest displays of love I know)

February is all about love. So on Wednesday, let the games begin.

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Did you hear that? That thud? Yep, that was me falling off the healthy eating bandwagon last week.

I often wonder if there is anything harder to do than to break a bad habit. When I think about my own bad habits, it feels overwhelming to even know where to start. You see, the older I get, the more I realize that I am more than just a creature of habit. I’m completely dependent on my routines. Given what happened with my family last year, I have made routines a priority. I have no doubt that these routines have maintained my and my children’s sanity as we continue to grieve, but also continue to live again. When my routine is broken or thrown out of whack, I tend to feel a bit lost. Some people may say that I need to be more spontaneous. But I’m not very good at spontaneity. And at this point, I’d rather know my strengths.

So, that’s the issue at hand – Last week, my routine was thrown off track and I went back to my old habits of eating whatever is easiest to grab. No menus were planned (and you know how much I love to plan), my healthy food supply dwindled and life got in the way of my good intentions.

But I’m not beating myself up about it. I’ve proven that I can do it. So it’s time to start again. I’ve made a decision and now I’m following it up with action.

With January coming to a close, it’s time to grade myself on those Happiness Project goals I made for the month:

• Develop a healthy eating plan and include the kids. Track our progress. I’m going to give myself a B on this. Yes, last week was a black spot, but I’m more determined than ever to pick it back up. The way I have felt (physically and emotionally) this past week tells me now more than ever how vital a good diet and nutrition plan is to my emotional health.
• Get more rest. Definitely an A- here. I’m consistently in bed by 10 and I tend to feel more rested throughout the day.
• Exercise three times a week (at least). A big fat F. Again, it goes back to routine. I know that setting up an exercise plan will throw off my routine that I’ve settled into the past 2 or 3 months and so I’ve procrastinated. No more! Once I’m done writing this, it’s time to make the plan and fit it in.
• Meditate. Another A- here. The quiet mornings have been a blessing.
• Drink at least 64 oz. of water a day. I think I’ve earned a B+ on this one. The past two weeks I’ve been spot on with getting my hydration needs met. I’m not super crazy (like my younger brother who decided to go the whole month of January drinking ONLY water) but I do find that I’m craving water more than coffee and I’ve nearly cut pop completely out of my diet.
• Develop a general awareness of my health. A solid B+. I stopped doing the daily check-in by journaling, but I’m still very much aware of how I’m feeling on a daily basis. I know there is more that I can do, but I think this is a good start.
• Create something every week. A+! This was, by far, the easiest of the goals. While it took me nearly the whole month to do it, I finished my most ambitious knitting project yet and the act of knitting on an almost daily basis is more than therapeutic. Plus, my daughter loved modeling the hooded poncho for a photo.
• Get kids involved in a physical activity. This one gets a B. I did the research and found the activities for the kids, but I didn’t actually sign them up for anything. Yet.

Looking all these over (in a non-mathematical, subjective sort of way), I think I got a B (maybe a B+) for the month’s goals. I made some great starts in some areas and still have a lot of room for improvement. But I least know what direction I’m heading in. And next month’s theme is “Love” in my quest to find inner happiness.

So, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with the treadmill.

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Last night was one of those nights. I sat on the couch, my older children playing together on the floor and the baby in her bouncy seat next to me. The stress of the day hadn’t melted off my shoulders yet and I kept replaying events in my head, filing away some thoughts as I went. All the kids were content and no one was demanding my attention.

Instinctively, my head then turned to my never-ending to-do list. The unfinished tasks of the day loomed large and my immediate reaction was to run through my “shoulds.”

I should be doing laundry. The piles in the basement and the bedrooms are getting out of control.

I should empty the dishwasher and hand wash the bottles.

I should pack the kids’ lunches for morning.

I should be drafting up notes for a project plan. We have a huge initiative coming up at work and I’ll be managing the implementation.

I should be jotting down ideas for that new creative project I want to start.

I should… I should… I should…

You know what I’m talking about, right?

Well last night, I didn’t do any of the shoulds. I sat on the floor and I played with the kids. I snuggled the baby and let the peace of her breathing wash over me. I let the laundry and dishes sit, knowing the other tasks could wait until morning.

I didn’t need to “do” anything. I just needed to be.

I needed to be Mom. I needed to be Angela.

So I did. And it was wonderful.

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“In times like these it helps to recall there have always been times like these.” – Paul Harvey

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I realize that this is not for everyone, but journaling has more than helped me deal with life over the years. Physically writing something down helps me organize my thoughts, assess a situation and often times realize what is actually going on in my head. Here are a few ways that various forms of journaling have been helpful:

• Good old fashioned journaling – a daily document of what’s running through my head or going on in my life help me determine patterns of behavior that may be causing me some trouble. It also allows me to vent occasionally rather than keeping things in until I explode
• Photo Journaling – Taking photos of beautiful things or daily life remind me how beautiful life can be
• Food Journaling – Want to lose weight without going on some diet? Start by writing down what you eat all the time. Believe me, it makes you pay attention to what you’re putting in your body
• Digital Journaling – Yes, blogging can be a form of journaling (although I still prefer to write it down physically from a therapeutic standpoint)

There are hundreds of ways you can journal. What method do you use or prefer?

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I never truly appreciate my health until I catch a cold or something and the constant sniffling and coughing makes me miss the carefree days of being fully healthy. 2012 started with me having a cold (for 10 days). But during that period, I started a new eating plan so that at least I could combat the overall “I feel so gross” mentality with having a tad bit more energy and sleeping better at night. Since I am a planner at heart, I began to evaluate my eating habits and change the way I eat by incorporating it into my weekly menu planning activities.

Almost a full month in and I have to tell you… So far, so good.

I definitely have more energy on a daily basis and my patience level continues to improve (my kids are beyond thrilled with this one). While my grocery bill has increased (eating healthy is expensive, you know) it has definitely been worth it to continuously feel better. Being in the situation that I am in as the only surviving parent to my children, my health is taking a front seat in terms of priority. Eating better, exercising regularly and getting to sleep at a decent hour whenever possible are all contributing factors to feeling as good as I do.

Let’s just hope I can keep it up.

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“Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together.” – Vincent van Gogh

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