When Tragedy Strikes...

I'm not going to blog about my personal journey through grief during the holiday season as planned because to be honest, my mind is spinning and my heart is numb... In other words, I feel like I'm not even buckled in on this never ending roller coaster. Instead, I'm going to beg you for uplifing prayers... prayers of peace and comfort, prayers of strength, prayers of hope, prayers of healing, prayers of patience, prayers of recevovery, prayers of thanks.... You get the point. We need ALL prayers. Please. Here is how 2014 is winding down...

As of December 1, 2014, my step-sister has been fighting for her life. She is strong, spunky, and in good hands, but continues to be crtically ill at this point in time. You can read her story by clicking the link below.

http://www.gofundme.com/jenoldenkamp

AND.......
{of course there is an "and"... because when it rains, it pours}

My parents (mom & step-dad) lost their home in Mitchell due to a fire in the middle of the night on December 7, 2014. We are so THANKFUL everyone got out of the house alive, including my grandparents who were visiting and our 2 dogs.

http://www.mitchellrepublic.com/content/fire-update-neighbors-phone-call-helped-save-family

I am really keeping the faith that 2015 will be a better year. My sanity is counting on it actually! I always think it "can't get any worse", yet it seems to do just that. There are no words to express my gratitude to all of you over the last {almost} 8 months, especially now, during the holidays, as we're faced with even more trials, while still trying to heal our broken hearts. I will forever be indebted to you for all of the prayers, love, encouragement, and unending support. There is no way I would be able to do all of this without all of YOU!

I wish you all a very Merry and Blessed Christmas. Here's to a new year with new beginnings, more joy than tragedy, and more smiles than tears! 

Love as always,

Megan 

Christmas 2012... Our first Christmas!

Christmas 2013... The future Mr. & Mrs. Fischer!

Christmas 2014... Remembering my love, my pilot.
{Thank you to my friend, Sarah, for the perfect ornament!}

Dreaming New Dreams

6 months. Where does the time go? Seriously. I feel like this nightmare happened just yesterday. I still remember hearing his voice for the last time on that cool, eerie, somewhat rainy, foggy day. I remember nearly losing my vision sometime between 9-9:30 pm that night, as I studied hard, trying to push through my last practice exam, anticipating his arrival home at anytime. I remember *knowing* at 10:42 pm something was horribly wrong. Yes, it seems as if this was just yesterday. On the other hand, I feel like this tragedy happened 10 years ago… So much has transpired between then and now. And my body… My physical body feels like it has been 10 years {thanks for the gray hair, honey} Yikes. Emotional stress is real, people! And then there are still the days where I feel like this isn’t even real life… Those days, however, are becoming fewer and farther between.

The monthly marker was different this time than the prior five monthly anniversaries. While I dread the 27^th of every month (especially if it falls on a Sunday) I always seem to get through and am thankful that a day on the calendar only lasts 24 hours. This day {October 27, 2014} was still hard, like every month before, but it was a different difficult Everything that could have went wrong—did. But they were little things, and just that, THINGS. When tragedy blindsides you, you lose sight of all those “things.” Instead, your focus & energy {what focus you can maintain and what energy you have} shifts to “the big picture” of this incredible life we are given… And suddenly, it’s not a big deal drop and shatter a bowl, spill an entire jar of pepper jelly, or shrink a brand new shirt {All just things that happened on 10.27.14} I didn’t cry on this day. Because here’s what happens when you’re on the widowhood express {the scariest, most painful roller coaster EVER might I add} … There comes a point in time where you are plain sick of feeling sick, feeling broken, feeling sad, and simply, not human. And since that point, I feel that my grief has begun shifting directions….

Rather than dwelling on my past and “what was suppose to be” I have slowly, ever so gently, been able to start looking towards the future, my future, and embracing a life here on Earth without him beside me. And you know what? It sucks. Moving forward post-loss is quite possibly the most challenging, scary {nobody mentioned the fear factor associated with loss!!!}, exhausting, heart wrenching choice. But that’s exactly what it is—a choice. For me, this has meant choosing to look forward more often than looking in the rearview mirror. I still think of my hubby every minute of every single day, and ohhhh do I miss that man, but I refuse to let the loss of him destroy me. In the words of Robin Roberts, “God has 3 answers to prayers… (1) Yes. (2) Not yet. (3) I have something even better for you.” While it seems impossible that there could be anything better than what I (we) had, I still believe that He has me in His hand and He is on my team in this crazy game of life. Faith is a beautiful thing!

As most of you know, I had recently completed my Master’s degree for nurse anesthesia and was days away from taking my certification exam when tragedy struck. Since then, I have passed boards, but I have not been working. And while I’m thankful for the time I’ve been able to take for myself to grieve, I need to work some day. I spent so much time and energy (and $$) on my education. It is not an option to not work.  So… I’ve been contemplating different job opportunities and started dreaming new dreams. I’m still waiting for the 4-1-1 on widowhood to show up at my doorstep or in my email inbox, but until then, I’m following my heart and living on a lot of prayers.

As I dream these new dreams and move forward, I thank you all for your never-ending support, kind words, and uplifting spirit. I know the last 6 months would have been even more difficult without all of you. I feel your love, prayers, and hope for me… And for that, I’m thankful. Beings it’s November, I encourage you to count your blessings and……… shave (I don’t promote “no-shave” November, or any month for that matter ;)

Blessings to you and yours!

Megan

"No-Shave" November {2012}... He attempted to grow a beard, emphasis on "attempted" :)

A Letter to Heaven

I knew the fall season would be difficult. For us, fall meant the spray season was essentially over; it meant my husband would spend more hours at home than in his airplane. Date nights could, once again, commence. All of the “to-do’s” that were put on the back burner during the busy summer would get done. And there would be a lot of SDSU jackrabbit tailgate parties and football games—one of our favorite things to do together. At least that’s what I imagine. Sadly, we never got to experience any of the above as husband and wife. I caught a little glimpse of this life last fall when I was doing a clinical rotation in Pierre—the everyday, 5 AM, 60 mile {one way} commute from Gettysburg was exhausting, but one of the best decisions I ever made. I would do it everyday for the rest of my life in a heartbeat if it meant coming home to my husband each night.

It has been over 5 months since this nightmare, this unimaginable tragedy, became our every day reality. I still have days where I feel like this isn’t real life. This can’t be MY life. But then I come to terms with reality, and accept this life, my life, and try to do so with grace. I’ve done a lot of reading on grief and appreciate any and every testimony regarding widowhood. There is a widow [Christina Rasmussen, author of Second Firsts] I follow closely who refers to this time following loss as “the waiting room”; it’s the time period between exiting one life and beginning a new life. While I love this philosophy, I do think it’s more than just “waiting”… It’s anguish, heartache, and hell, for lack of a better term. It’s adapting to a new, very difficult normal so to speak. It’s seeking out moments of clarity to guide your every decision. It’s choosing to find the tiniest glimmer of light during the darkest days. I have had to work hard {mentally} to not be bitter, to not question His plan, and to maintain hope for my future despite my losses. There has to be a reason I wasn’t in that damned airplane, right?

While grieving the loss of my beloved husband, my counselor {Yes, I see a counselor 1-2x/week. No, I don’t think of this as a sign of weakness, but as a sign of self-worth instead} recommended that I write him a letter. I’m not going to lie—I was a little hesitant at first. Where would I start? What would I say to him? Would it be a soppy, love letter or would my anger shine through? {Yes, I love my hubby dearly, but I am mad at him for leaving me and taking 3 other men with him} I feel like I could write him a book with everything that has happened over the last 5 months. And questions… I think his brothers and I are up to 15,476 questions for him to answer. Speaking of questions, if you are one to “question” why I write what I write and share with the world, I kindly invite you to exit out of this blog and forego reading my letter to heaven J

{Background: I decided to write my letter to DJ on a Hallmark card [See below] I never gave to him, but had every intention on doing so. The crazy thing is, I bought this card when I was young (14-15 years old) and promised myself I would give to the person most deserving of the words written on this card, the person who I envisioned would be my husband. I meant to bring this card to Mexico and give to DJ on our wedding day, but that, obviously, did not happen. The funny thing is, is that DJ also forgot the wedding card he had bought for me… I just happened to realize I forgot mine before we left the country and settled for a “Happy Anniversary” card that I picked up @ Walmart on our way to Minneapolis. Mr. “wing it”, on the other hand, had to settle for the last resort option—an 8x11 piece of computer paper (folded in half) with the most hideous clip-art image, rose petals in the shape of a heart, printed in our resort lobby…True DJ fashion right there!} 

  

               To my love, my angel— 

         I meant to give this card to you on our wedding day, but like our short 22 months together, that week was a whirlwind. I guess you could say I pulled a “you” and forgot it at home J I bought this card years ago because I thought the words were perfect. I promised myself I would give it to the man who, to me, fulfilled these words. Even though you’re in heaven now, I think you will always be this man…my husband, the one I continue to love with all of my heart and always will—no matter what my future brings. I trust that you will watch over me and guide me, comfort me and protect me, and mostly, I trust that you will bring me peace. As long as you are “ok” up there, I will figure out a way to be “ok” down here and move forward just as you would want me to do.  My heart is broken, but it is broken for you and all of your dreams, our dreams. 

         I hope you were able to meet our child in heaven. You always thought we would have a boy first… I wonder if you were right? You usually were… I always said you were too good to be true—this is one of the few times that I will say that I was actually right. I’m trying to not shed as many tears these days because I know you would want me to be strong, but it is so hard. There isn’t a minute that goes by that I don’t think of you and the love we shared. I would give anything for more time together. I love you more and will be your forever wife.  

XOXO—Megan

PS- Blondie and Zoey have been good. They miss you too, but are keeping entertained doing what you trained them to do best—hunting birds.

This fall has been tough. Somehow, someway I continue to get out of bed every morning and attempt to live my life. While I do believe widows are granted this rare, incredible perspective on life and love, it’s not something that happens overnight {or even in 5 months} … As I move forward on my journey through this crazy, beautiful, so unpredictable life, I continue to be thankful for all of your love, encouragement, and endless prayers. No words will ever be adequate enough to portray my gratitude—I’m humbled and blessed.

Wishing you a happy fall,

Megan 

My wedding day "card" from my hubby that I will forever cherish :)

Time

4 months. 18 weeks. 130 days.

Have you ever thought about the concept of “time”? … A serious sit down-pondering-head scratching-Einstein style-poke your eyeballs out mull over time? I never have either. But the last 4 months {18 weeks, 130 days} have given me a whole new perspective of time. I’ve decided it’s two faced- my best friend and my worst enemy. If there was one thing I wasn’t prepared for in the widowhood world, it was how much time I was going to need to get back up on my feet. Literally. My first month post-loss consisted of shock. Pure and complete shock. I don’t remember May—it’s almost as though it never even existed for me. Months #2 & #3 were incredibly difficult as the shock and numbness slowly started to wear off, not to mention a miscarriage in there. Life became physically painful as I had face the future without my husband, who I loved more than any words could ever express. Most days I couldn’t see past the next hour, let alone the next day or month. And now, here we are in September…….

9.5.13

On the flip side of this notion of time, DJ popped the big question one year {52 weeks, 365 days} ago today! Thanks to my gullible-ness I didn’t even question the Go-Pro mounted in the airplane; in fact, I’m pretty sure I confirmed with him that it was actually on and recording before take-off [He told me that if he recorded his flights our insurance premium would be discounted ... Hindsight thought: “What?!?!”] I don’t have the recording of our engagement to show you—you can ask my brother-in-law about that J Let’s just say I’m really good at finding straight roads in the “emergency-landing” situation and after 2 minutes of hyperventilating, legs shaking seizure-style, & my face buried in the sweaty palms of my hands—I said YES! {Just for the record, there was no emergency & there was no landing; see above on gullible-ness}. It’s amazing how much change can take place in just one year. I went from dating, to engaged, to married, to widowed all in a matter of a few months. I would give anything to go back in time…

"I can't promise that I will be here for the rest of your life, but I can promise that I will love you for the rest of mine..."

They say time “heals.” But, really, you never completely heal. That grief never leaves your heart; it may become dormant for some time {at this point, “some time”=hours, maybe}, much like a state of remission following a battle with cancer, but then, all of the sudden that overwhelming feeling of heartache & sadness & hopelessness can come back with a vengeance. Much like salt on a wound—it’s gut-wrenching, takes your breath away, and brings tears. One of the harder things in the whole realm of grief, for me, has not only been losing my hubby {and accepting my loss}, but also accepting the grief that has accompanied my losing him. It is exhausting. And relentless. And requires more patience than you could imagine. You are required to ‘feel’ a lot of feelings… I’m mad as hell, sad as you could be, fear my future, and feel cheated out of what was supposed to be the best years of my (our) life. The phrase “one day at a time” has never been held so close to my heart as it is now. I would give anything to fast forward time if I can’t be granted option A {See above}.

Obviously option A nor B is possible, so I decided awhile back that I will settle for option C, which consists of moving forward & finding joy in life again. A dear friend, who happens to be wandering this crazy widowhood path with myself, reminds me “it’s pretty hard to cry when you’re laughing.” Although laughing isn’t always easy, I’ve learned that it is ok. It’s ok to smile, laugh, and live life, one day at a time. Which brings me to my closing thought on time... Everyone who attended the 1^st Annual DJ Fischer Memorial Scholarship fundraiser had a great time! I cannot say thank you enough to the guys who organized and hosted such an awesome event! Also, THANK YOU to all of you for your generosity and more importantly, honoring my late husband—it means the world to our families and myself. I know he is one proud angel up there and he has one proud wife here on Earth!

DJ's family @ the golf tourney

It’s no joke that the theory of time is a crazy brain twister. It haunts you, yet “heals” you. There are good times and bad times. As I continue to take one day {sometimes hour} at a time in my new norm of widowhood, I remain so incredibly thankful for your prayers, inspiring words, and love that surrounds me always. I’m blessed to have countless amazing people walking beside me on this journey. In time, I will be able to see past tomorrow and restore hope in my future.

Until next time…

Picking up the Pieces

13 long, exhausting, heart-wrenching weeks have come and gone. People say that a part of you dies when you lose a spouse. I disagree. The term “die” or “death” is all too permanent for me, not to mention morbid; and with a career in healthcare, has always represented, in my eyes, complete end of life on Earth and the beginning of eternal life in the most beautiful place. You don’t die. You are forever changed, but you don’t die. You are actually forced to LIVE this life on Earth everyday, just without your soul mate, the one who was supposed to be by your side forever.

I didn’t realize how much shock I was in until it started to wear off… Don’t get me wrong, the shock is still there, it’s just not as protective as it was in those first few weeks. After hearing of other widow’s experiences, I’ve determined that grieving the loss of your spouse is pure hell. Moreover, unless you have experienced widowhood yourself, you have no idea what it is like and even then- it is still different. I once read somewhere that “grief is as individualized as a fingerprint.”

Although I was in complete shock immediately following the news of my husband’s tragic death, there are a few things that stand out in my memory. It took me a long time (12ish weeks) to not feel guilty about my first reaction that horrid night, which consisted of hugging my mother-in-law in our bedroom while she cried, followed by walking out into our kitchen and asking my sister-in-law if I should make a pot of coffee or open a bottle of wine. I didn’t cry right away. Once the tears started, though, they didn’t stop {and still haven’t stopped- I cry everyday, sometimes several times a day, over my loss}. That first week- sleep was minimal, at best. I remember napping during the daytime while curled up in my husband’s beloved La-Z-Boy as our house swarmed with company. I didn’t want to be alone in a quiet bedroom. I also vividly remember finding out I was pregnant on what would have been DJ’s 31^st birthday. To this day, I still don’t know how I managed to get through that week. How was I able to put on makeup and a dress on for my husband’s funeral?!

The day (May 24^th) DJ’s 802 (spray plane) went back to Timber Lake was almost harder than his funeral {See aforementioned thoughts on shock} along with June 4^th. There is nothing significant about June 4^th other than I consider that my lowest of low days. I sobbed all day and the physical pain was nearly unbearable. My grief overwhelmed me. Thankfully, to this day, that is still my toughest day post-loss on record. As a widow, you experience many bad days, a few ok days, and some days, it’s just “one of those days.” Following the loss of a spouse, you are on an emotional roller coaster that doesn’t stop- you can’t get off and ‘exit to your left’. You can’t hold up your hand to suggest ‘please stop I’m going to throw up’ and you can’t even close your eyes, hold on tight, and find peace in knowing it will all be over in 2 minutes.

Another day that will haunt me forever was the day I got together with Nicole, Kyrstin, and Natalie to sort through all of our hubby’s personal belongings that were on board the airplane. I was mentally prepared for seeing the worst and it was worse than the worst. I will never forget laying eyes on his damaged headset, the one DJ always wore when flying, immediately when I walked into that musty, damp room. A flood of emotions and memories nearly brought me to my knees. Nobody should’ve had to see what we saw that day. 

When you are faced with tragedy, life comes to a screeching halt. Your hopes & dreams shatter into a million little pieces and you question everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. Was I not meant to be a wife? Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a crop duster’s wife? Am I not worthy of motherhood? Why don’t I get the joy of having my own family as we planned? How about small town living? What about my career choice? The list goes on and on… I wasn’t prepared for decision-making without him and it has nearly paralyzed me. Most days I can’t even decide if I want just peanut butter or PB&J! However, I did make a spontaneous decision to get a tattoo on the inside of my left ankle {Welcome to widowhood, people-where you can’t decide what color of underwear to wear, but you can make a decision on a whim to put something permanent on your body}.

As I begin to pick up these million little pieces, I continue to remain thankful for your prayers of support. Although I’m not ready to put the pieces of my puzzle back together, I am holding them near and dear to my heart and keeping the faith that someday, that puzzle will be near complete again, always with two pieces missing.

“When you are ready to live again-life will be there waiting with open arms.”

--1fw {One Fit Widow}

XO-
Megan

My loves

Celebrating my friend Erin's final fling before the ring!

"I carry your hearts" ~ DJ, Brent, Nick, & Logan {The heart itself represents our miscarriage}

A blanket from my forever friend- I love it!

Baby Fischer {Daddy's Co-pilot~Mommy's Angel}