AWP and something funny

This weekend the AWP will be featured at the PBS Memorial Day Concert on Sunday evening. So make sure you tune in to your local PBS station. It will be an awesome show. In January, PBS came and filmed a portion of one of our get-a-ways. The will be featured during the concert as well as our personal pictures of us with our heros. Definitely watch this. If you are not a widow, it will give you a better inside look at what it is like, and what toll it takes on you.


Here is something funny...

This is my parent's pug Mookie. She was obviously mad :)

graduation

I am currently in Kansas right now. I came here because my brother, Ryan, graduated from high school. I told myself that not matter what, I don't want to miss out of these sorts of things. I would regret it if I didn't come and I don't want to die with any regrets, no matter how small or big they are.

As I was sitting through the graduation ceremony, I was thinking how I graduated 5 years ago. Things were so very different then. I was so excited and nervous to start life after the familiarities of high school and move on to something that was new and not so comfortable. I never expected for my life to go the way it has. I never would have expected to fall in love with Michael again. At the time I was in love with someone else. I never expected that I would be married at 20 years old. I never expected I would move out to California. All the way across the country, away from my entire family. I never expected to transfer schools after I started college at FAU. And I really, never ever ever expected to be widowed at 22.

So many people from my graduating class has already graduated from college. People who have graduated after me, are graduating from college. I still have a year left to complete. And I am only getting my degree in psychology, which is so easy to do! I should have been done by now. So when I see that people I graduated with are now graduating from college, I admit that I feel sorry for myself. I can't help it. I so desperately wish that things were different.

Was our life too good to be true? Was everything happening too perfectly so God felt it necessary to take one of us out? Right after Michael was killed, I deeply questioned if there was even a God. Why would a God that is so kind and loving do this to a person. My faith in God has always been a shaky one. I know more about science, then I do about religion and believing in someone I cannot see. You can do experiments, you can see the reaction between two elements and see the exact thing your text book described. You can look at fossils and ancient artifacts. You can watch mutation and evolution take place by just observing fruit flies. But you can't see Noah's arch. You can't go and visit the tomb where Jesus was laid to rest. You can't watch as someone heals another by just touching them. You just have to believe. And that is so hard to do.

I have had a rocky path to believing in God. I have been told that I am going to hell for not going to church every Sunday. I have been judged. I have prayed and prayed for things to happen, and never got a result. I have had the love of my life taken away from me without any kind of explanation or answers to why. My life turned upside down. But for some reason I believe. I believe now more than ever. During a sermon at church, the pastor was saying when you have a hole, a wound in your very being, your soul, to let God in and he will bring joy to your life, he will mend what has been broken. So I have to listen and obey. I believe that Michael is in heaven. So I am going to do everything that I possibly can to get to him. I strongly believe that we will continue what we started. It isn't over.

I am not sure how this blog transformed from graduations to pass expectations to God and heaven but it did. Oh well.

26.2

On October 31st, I will be running 26.2 miles in the Marine Corps Marathon.
I have no idea what possessed me to decide to do this. I am not a runner. I used to be an ok runner when I was little. I could run really fast for a short distance. That's it.
 But it's not about me. I am running for him. I know he will be with me every step of the way.

Michael always wanted me to run with him. But I never could. I have never really been in shape. I always wished I could be, but I never have. But I have to be now. For him.
30,000 people will be running this race. My dad and my brothers will be running along side with me all for the same reason.
I will make sure that everyone I am around will know that I am running it for him. I want them to know how he was killed and that no matter what, he is a hero.

Training is not easy. Definitely not a walk in the park. I am working my way up to being able to run a 5k, 10k, half marathon, and then finally a full 26.2 miles. I figured as long as I can run 15 miles by the time of the race, I will be ok. I can make it. I will finish.

I will do it for him. No matter what. Blood, sweat, and tears. He is worth it.

pictures

There is something that is keeping me in bed this morning. For some reason I can't find the strength/motivation/reason.... whatever to get up. Even though I know I have so much to do today. I started looking at pictures of Michael. Like really old pictures. Mostly of high school. Some from the Marine Corps. And a few from just us. I'm looking at these pictures and I feel like I am going to throw up. There will never be another picture taken of Michael ever again.

They just reminded me even more that my husband is dead.


I don't think I am going to look at pictures for a while. It used to help.
Now it just hurts beyond belief.

dream

I had a dream last night. I have been dreaming a lot lately. It may have been because I was sleeping in a new location. I don't know, but when I am home, I tend not to dream, or if I do, I don't remember them really.

Anyway, I had a dream about Michael. In my dream I got a phone call from him. Like how I used to when he was in Iraq. When my phone rang I looked at it and it had a strange number. I normally don't pick up weird unknown numbers but I picked up this one. It was Michael. It felt like he was calling from Iraq but I knew he was gone. I knew that he was no longer here anymore. Heaven must have installed a bunch of satellite phone or something. But we talked. I don't remember the details of our conversation but I just remember us telling each other how much we loved one another and how much we missed each other. In my dream I was dancing around my room, like I used to when he would call from over there. I remember thinking to myself that I was the luckiest girl in the world - I was able to talk to my dead husband! I asked him if this would happen often or if it was just a rare treat to be able to hear from him. He said no, that it would happen often and the he was a tester or something to see how the phones worked and if they worked well enough then everyone would be using them soon. I didn't want to hang up with him but I knew he had to go. I was ok with hanging up because I knew he would call again.

Then I woke up. This dream makes me so happy but so sad at the same time. How can you be two emotions at the same time? I am happy that finally I had another dream about him. I have been waiting, begging, pleading to dream about him and finally I do! But I am so sad because when I woke up I felt like he was still here. Like he never really died. Like he was going to come back again. Then reality came crashing back down and I realized that there is no way that Michael will ever come back. Heaven doesn't just grant you a visitors pass to come back home. I don't want this to be it. I don't want it to be that 6 months ago was the last time I talked to him. And time will only go on. Soon it will be 7 months, then 10, and then a year! Soon it will be one whole year since I have spoken to my husband. I don't want this reality. I want to live in that dream forever because if he has to be dead, then I still want some way that I can just talk to him.

I hate my brain.

monk monk

I have an introduction I need to make. I would like everyone to meet Monk Monk. I know this is stupid and maybe a little crazy... but Monk Monk was special to Michael and I. While Michael was deployed to Iraq in 2006, I made him to send to Michael. I didn't buy him in a store or anything, I actually cut, stuffed and sewed him all together. Yes I had directions and it all came in a kit, but I actually made him. Michael held onto him until we were married and living together in Oceanside. For the longest time, we had to hide him because Samara wanted to rip him to pieces.

So now since everything has happened, Monk Monk has come out of hiding. And yes even though I am 23, he is sort of like a security blanket for me. I will be bring him everywhere with me. Especially since I now have this itch to go and travel.

So everyone, meet Monk Monk... Monk Monk meet everyone...

our beach

Thursday May 13th, 2010

I have never really explained how important Fort Myers Beach was to us. We had our first date here. In January of 2005, Michael and I first started dating and the very first time we went out, he took me to Junk-a-noos on the Beach. We ate dinner, I was nervous as hell, and then we walked the beach all the way to the pier. Which was a really long walk. But we had so much to talk about. He was just out of boot camp and he was home on leave after MCT school. He talked mostly about boot camp and how it was. We walked for what seemed like minutes, but they really were hours, just talking and smoking cigarettes. It was pitch black outside but I felt completely safe outside. Once we got to the pier, we walked out over the ocean and we looked at the stars. He had his hand placed on the small of my back and we just stood there. He was a gentlemen and didn’t even try to kiss me.

Every time we had to the chance we would escape to the beach. We got married on that beach. We wanted to retire on that beach. Become those super tan old people who literally look like old leather.

All I know is that this is our beach. No one can take that away from us.

i do

Written on Wednesday May 12th, 2010


Today is the three year anniversary of our marriage to each other. Three years ago today we committed to love and to honor each other until the end of time. Three years ago I made the best decision I have ever made. If anyone were to ask me if I could change it all and start over, would I? The answer would be no. Even if I knew I was going to lose Michael in the end, I would not change any bit of it. Michael taught me what it was like to love unconditionally. That no matter what happened, our love for each other would always hold true and strong. Even during the time where our marriage was strained and we weren’t sure if we would make it, it was our love that held the pieces together. I would not change a thing. Our love has only grown. I am so very much in love with him and I would not change something that has given me and shown me so much love.

So today I decided to go outside, sit in a beach chair and continue to read my book (Eat, Pray, Love - which is so unbelievably amazing). About 15 minutes after I first sat down, I realized that I was completely alone. Everyone must have ventured back inside to get ready for dinner. It was at that time that I looked at the sun and realized that I have felt this sun before. I started to get knots in my stomach when I realized that three years ago, on this same beach, we were all arriving for us to get married. I was the last to arrive. I remember looking over at Michael in the other car and realizing that no matter how much I looked at him, he wouldn’t look back at me (granted, the windows were tinted and I am sure he wouldn’t have noticed that I was even looking at him). I suppose he didn’t want to risk that superstition that say “if you see your bride before you get married on your wedding day, you’ll be cursed with an unlucky marriage”. I remember the nervous jittery feeling I felt in the pit of my stomach. I almost felt like I was going to throw up. I wasn’t unsure of what I was doing, I was just so anxious for my life to begin, I knew then that my life was going to be forever changed. I remember my dad asking me before he walked me down the sand isle if I was sure this was what I wanted, because if I wasn’t, he had a credit card and he could get me on the next plane to Mexico. I remember that when we were reciting our vows to each other, we both stumbled on the same word. I remember crying when the officiant recited the 1 Corinthians verse 13, love is patient love is kind.

I can only imagine what it would be like with Michael here with me today. Maybe we would be sitting on the beach somewhere in San Diego with a bottle of wine and a packed dinner. Just sitting there watching the the sun as it vanishes beneath the horizon and marvel as the stars and the moon take their place in the sky. I wonder what sorts of things we would talk about. We would probably still be giddy as hell about him getting into the Marine Corps Officer program. Maybe we would be talking about college and what sorts of classes he would want to take. Maybe talking about baby names and possibly talking about when it would be an appropriate time for us to renew our vows. But I can only imagine. I can only make those pretend conversations happen in my head. It makes me so incredibly sad to know that our marriage really, can only go on if I make it continue to go on.

It's kind of like how I wear Michael's wedding ring. Michael never ever took his ring off. Even when he went to Iraq, he never took it off. Most husbands when they go over there, they will take off their ring so it doesn't get damaged. Michael, I guess, never took it off because he didn't want to be without it. If something were to have happened, he would want to be wearing his wedding ring. Well after the accident, I got a bag out his belongings that he had on him at the time of the accident. His cell phone, dog tags, his watch, chevrons, wallet, and his ring. My brain wasn't working then and I didn't even think to have them put his ring back on. Michael never took his ring off himself, so why should this be any different? If he had a say in it, I think he would ask to keep it on. But there is nothing I can do about that now. I have it. I always wear it. It actually fits on my index finger so I wear it on the same hand that I still wear my own wedding rings. I can't bear to be without them. So since Michael can no longer wear his ring everyday, I am here to carry that on for him. Just like I am still here to carry on our marriage.


After all of the imagining, some of my family came over to go out to dinner. My mom, father-in-law, mother-in-law, and sister-in-law all came over to go out with me. It really meant so much to have them all there with me. I have been blessed with an amazing family to be there for me as a crutch when I have really needed it. I may not show it all the time; I tend to act a little too tough on the outside. I tend not to show any of my suffering. But my family has only been there for me, even when I don’t ask them, or tell them I need them.

Happy Anniversary my love. 

fort myers beach

Since internet here is spotty, I wrote this yesterday. Even though I do plan on writing more later on today, I just wanted to quickly get this up while I still had an internet signal.

Tuesday May 11th, 2010

Fort Myers Beach

It is the day before my three year wedding anniversary to Michael. It is also the first full day I am spending here on the beach. The same beach Michael and I got married on three years ago tomorrow. I am confused as to why I am putting myself through this familiar torture. Why am I putting myself here when I know it will hurt so much? I guess maybe deep down, I know I need to feel this pain. I need time alone to be in my own solitude and sorrow. I need to be able to really feel everything. I want to feel this pain but at the same time, I am so very afraid of it.

I am not too sure of what my plans are for tomorrow. Everyone has told me that I should not be alone. I agree. I shouldn’t be alone. But I will most likely be alone. But that’s fine too. If Michael were still alive, we would be alone tomorrow as well. I’ll probably get up in the morning, go running on the beach, get something to eat, lay out in the sun, go in the water, write in the sand, and maybe even walk down to the same location of where we said our vows and committed our souls to each other in front of the people who meant the most to us. I’ll probably end up going out to eat with our family as well. Which will most likely be bittersweet. It will be painful because I know that Michael is the one who should really be here.

This morning, after I ran a few miles on the beach, I realized that I had forgotten to go to Barns and Nobel before my venture out to the beach. I decided that I would not last long without something to occupy my mind, so after coffee and breakfast, I made a quick trip off of the island to grab a few books. I got three. They should last me the entire time out here and maybe even a little bit into my trip out to Kansas. I got a book about healing, a guilty pleasure, and a book about eternal love. Eat Pray Love, L.A. Candy, and Wuthering Heights. This seems like a good mixture to me. I also got book marks with a monogram “M” on each of them. I wanted to celebrate my, still new, last name. I would say it was a successful trip because I had no idea what I wanted to read.

So right now, I am up in my two bedroom, two bath condo sitting out on my porch, listening to the puny waves washing up onto the shore, taking a break from the intense sun. My wonderful sister-in-law, who has actually grown into more of a sister-type-best friend in the past few months, will be here after she gets off work and she will be spending the night with me. I am so thankful to have at the least one really good friend here close to me. Friends is a subject matter I will write about another time... Nevertheless, I am so happy she will be here soon.

Until next time-
Mrs. Michael Martins

Death is peaceful. 
Easy.

Life is harder.

I miss you so much.

No star in the sky will burn longer than my love for you.

Always remember that.

i am so mad

I am so mad that he is not here anymore. I am not so much mad at him. Even though I do have every right to be mad at him. If he would have just listened. Just understood my fear of him on a motorcycle, maybe, just maybe he would still be here. But I'm not mad at him, because who knows. If he were to have been in his car, who can say that the accident wouldn't have still killed him. I can't be mad because riding his motorcycle made him happy.

I am so mad at the man who killed him. I have said it a million times. Michael was 23. This man was 81. He lived his whole life. Michael was just starting his. This man will never pay for what he did either. He will never go to jail for killing Michael. He will never really have to live long enough to feel the full amount of remorse and guilt that one should carry for killing another. I am also so mad that this man took his life. Michael will never be honored by society the way he should be. Because he didn't die in the line of fire, he won't be recognized for serving his country the way others are. This man took that away from him too. If Michael had to die, I would much rather him die in Iraq or Afghanistan and let him die in honor instead of being killed by an old man in San Diego.

I am so mad at my brain for working again. For allowing me to feel. I want to take a vacation from myself. From being a widow. From feeling the pain of losing Michael. Just a day of not thinking or feeling. It's so frustrating when I don't feel anything, when I am numb. But it really does suck when I feel it. It's like someone stabbing a hot branding iron through my heart and some how the fire from the iron runs through my veins in my blood to the rest of my body. It never really goes away either. The pain has only gotten worse. I am just waiting for it to actually stop my heart. But it never does.

Can you die from a broken heart? Like the dog in "where the red fern grows".

I get so mad when I see moms with young babies. Pictures of weddings. Husbands coming home from a deployment. Wives bitching about their husbands being away. When people brag to me about how well their marriage is going. When people bitch to me about how bad things in their marriage. I get mad when people ask me about Michael's dog tags that I wear. I know being mad at all of these things is irrational, but I guess it's just apart of the aftermath of losing someone as close as Michael was to me.

Nonetheless, I am just mad. I have every right to be mad too.

six months

I can't believe it. Today marks 6 months since Michael was alive. I have not spoken to my husband in 6 months. This is absolutely crazy. I was lying in bed this morning just looking at our things. Our bed. Our dresser. Thinking, how did these get here? Why aren't they in California? Why am I in Florida?

That's right. Because 6 months ago, someone couldn't wait the 10 seconds it would have took for Michael to pass him. Someone decided to go when Michael was right there. Some old man thought that he was still ok enough to drive himself. Someone decided that Michael shouldn't live anymore.

I cannot believe that 6 months has already gone by. 6 months from now will be a year. And in 6 days, it will be our 3rd wedding anniversary. I rented a condo on the same beach that we got married, for a week. I don't know why I did it. Maybe, somehow, staying on the beach will bring me closer to Michael. Which I don't think is possible, because I swear I feel him around me all the time.

Michael, not a second goes by that my mind isn't on you. I miss you so much, at times it is unbearable. I wish we could be together again, because being able to look in your eyes again would be my heaven. Life here without you is so hard. You were not supposed to die. We were supposed to do the old and gray thing. I feel like my love for you has only grown since you left. I feel your love around me all the time. But it doesn't seem to lessen the pain that I feel knowing that you are gone. There is nothing that will bring you back and that kills me. I promise you that I will continue to be so in love with you even after my heart stops beating. I love you so much Michael. No star in the sky will burn longer than my love for you. Always.