Blog

I was reading a post recently of a fellow widow and it broke my heart. It broke my heart for her and her child and it broke my heart for my own children.

It is a fact that often when someone loses a spouse, they lose many people that were in their life pre-loss. I’ve written about this before and given my thoughts and perspectives as to why this might happen. But, quite honestly, it is just plain sad.

This woman made a post on her personal FB page stating that she was tired of people disappointing her child. Now, normally we save that sort of thing for our widow support groups where we can freely talk about things with people who truly understand. She was brave enough to just come out and say it. GOOD. FOR. HER.

People should know that their actions (or lack thereof) have real and…

View original post 62 more words

I’m Glad I had To Let It Go!

I hesitated to post this….but the more I see new members go to this Widow Group I belong to, the more I felt compelled to post this. My husband was murdered. Today, I am so glad I let it go…

This is a letter to a guy, who is a widow. He lost his wife most tragically. He watched her get murdered.

Dear Sir,

You know my story too. You know that my husband may or may not have killed himself.  My logical brain doesn’t allow me to think he did based on how his body was found. I wasn’t there, and my biggest regret for you as a widow is that you were there when she died. So, I can only have as much empathy as possible because you and I both have kids, you and I both have anger, and you and I both have to live and go on with our lives and function after the most devastating loss; on top of which we bear our children’s grief much more than our own.

All this being said I do want to explain that the universe taught me to appreciate my today. My yesterday died, and there is nothing I can do about that. I can’t prove my husband’s murder, and I had to forgive myself because I couldn’t investigate his death. I had nothing to go by, and police ruled it as suicide due to lack of hard evidence, like fingerprints, like hair, like anything. I don’t have a police report. I only have the autopsy that shows how his blood work and urine were filled with a cocktail of drugs, some of which he was not prescribed.

When I saw my husband’s dead body, my dad was there. My dad was there to see the enormous cut-out hole in his neck, four stab wounds, slit wrist, and his body crushed at one side. My dad took my face in his hands and told me the following, “HE DID THIS HIMSELF, OKAY????  Forget every question you have…you have to forget every question you will always have because you can’t…YOU ARE NOT FINDING OUT!!!!

I tell you that it has taken me 2 1/2 years to understand what that meant. It has taken every fiber of my soul to begin to kill my utter inner resentment over his death. I have an autistic boy. He is nonverbal, and life can be pretty hard, and only I get to live this life. I am now his only living parent.

Today, I look at my son and how far he’s come. I look at the life that I have, and I’m grateful that I was able to provide the best quality of life that I can possibly offer him. I have to consider myself lucky that my only focus for the last almost 3 years has been to heal myself and live for my son.

Let me explain a lot further. I did some research, and I do a lot of “what if”-ing. I think about what if I had spent all my money on detectives and on lawyers and where my life would be if I kept poking at my husband‘s death. I’m very sure that I would still know nothing. I probably would have gone bankrupt and have gained no further knowledge as to how he died.

I am aware of how your wife died, and I am aware of who you accuse so I can’t blame you.

But I blocked you today because watching your Instagram and your Facebook page and watching your kids hold up poster-boards of writing and declarations and putting them online made me think about the “what if’s” that I go through on a daily basis. I realized that I was forced to give my son a better quality of life. I watch you and your children so consumed with her death. It kills me. So I blocked it.

I came to the conclusion that instead of throwing away any chance of a human tomorrow, I could take my resentment, take my anger, and my personal Hell, and shove that so far up my ass and instead focus on my son and on myself. Today, I see how he smiles. I hear his heartfelt laughter at silly things. He still cries…like I still do, particularly on those special days. (Side note: We hate Christmas…but I’m working on making it amazing again.) More importantly, I can appreciate the immense quality of TODAY and TOMORROW. I can at least experience new things and take pictures of today. I chose to post today’s photos on Instagram and Facebook….and these are the pictures that show no signs of yesterday’s attempt to deprive our tomorrow. I’m not in hiding. I am living loudly. My son and I could be killed at any moment, by a murder, meteorite, car accident, whatever have you.

This took me forever to realize (almost 3 years), but I can have thoughts of the good tomorrow times and good today times. I could build great memories about today and appreciate today and not let yesterday kill our tomorrow.

Sir, I urge you to consider the life you and your beautiful children have. Believe me, I too want my justice. I know what you feel you and your children need….but can you consider their future…possibly dropping how consumed you are with her death… perhaps teaching your children to move on? I see your posts, and I know that you are letting yesterday kill everyone’s tomorrow.

I urge you to please change direction. I urge you to drop it.

So put up your big fat middle finger to the sky (as shown above) and say this with full conviction “FUCK YOU, YESTERDAY!!! FUCK YOU!!! YOU ARE NOT KILLING MY TOMORROW!! YOU ARE NOT KILLING MY KID’S TOMORROW…FUCK YOU!!!”

“Phewwww…” Wow, that felt awesome!

Seriously, Sir, I say this because I love you. I say this in spite of our horror. I know how painful this is…and yeah, you bet I want justice…but I want my life more! A lot more, and I have the responsibility as a mother to teach my son the same thing.

Thank you.

Supreme Loud Love,

-Diana

Peace!

The Controversy of Posthumously Conceived Babies

For you, Ayla.

Every so often I get wind of a story like mine, “Young Widow Conceives Dead Husband’s Baby” or something to that nature. I just talked to a young lady from Australia who won her court case that took 22 months. She is now able to use her partner’s specimen to make a baby with the blessing of both of their families, and a judge who deemed her stable enough to conceive. Her news article is now circulating throughout the Facebook groups such as Word Porn, and others I am sure. Well, I read it and wanted to show support on my personal page for her naturally. It is a beautiful blessing for some of us young widows who have done it.  However, I also did something that I knew I shouldn’t have. I read the commentary on her article.  Mind you, I haven’t read the comments on any articles since my own news story came out, where people had the audacity to spew uneducated madness in my direction. Prior to that, people infuriated me when the news article came out about my husband’s fatal accident. They blamed my husband, the biker, for riding a motorcycle instead of the negligent driver who ignored laws. My point is that I am no stranger to people who pop off hurtful comments because they sit behind a computer screen or their phone devising ways to do so. Nonetheless, I noticed a common theme among the naysayers that I want to address regarding posthumous conception and our choices. Here is a comprehensive list of the issues that the ever-so-wise public is concerned about.

What a Selfish Thing To Do, How Could You Think of Raising A Child Without A Father?

I hate to break it to the masses out there, but in the United States there is a rising number of single parents. Get this America, people who are living willfully abandon their kids every single day for a variety of reasons. I am not casting judgment towards those that do this, it is not my path to walk. I am merely stating a point, people are forced to raise children without a significant other in some circumstances unwillingly. Yet, no one casts judgment against these individuals because they chose to conceive in spite of a possibility that they may raise a child in a split household, or without the child’s other parent altogether. Now, yes, the case is a bit different because our child’s father is no longer living and we knew it from the get-go. However, MANY of us conceived knowing that we were planning for a child with our spouse prior to death. In my case, my husband and I were actively saving for IVF due to his 15-year-old, irreversible vasectomy. My husband gave me specific consent to conceive his daughter. We even had her name picked out prior to his death, and we had a baby shower planned. What a dishonor it would have been for me to ignore our wishes for a child, merely for the sake of other people’s comfort levels or outdated value systems. Chances are these naysayers known or have been single parents themselves with the divorce rates at an all-time high. Let’s not pretend that virtuosity is the commonplace anymore if it was people would mindfully hold on to their opinions. Those who judge are less likely to live by their own ridiculous standards these days. In my mind, I don’t know of a better way to honor my husband other than raising his legacy with the exact principals that he instilled in our little family. I don’t know a better way to remember him than to teach our posthumously conceived daughter his life lessons. I don’t know a better way to make sure his name is spoken other than to walk my daughter around our house and tell every single one of his pictures, “Good Morning Daddy”. Raising our daughter has given us all a way to remember who he was. We cannot forget the little things because we are constantly teaching her. In essence, she will never be raised without her Daddy. We carry him with us throughout our lives. We keep his memory very much alive.

She Only Conceived For A Free Hand Out From Social Security (Or Other Government Entity).

First off, I don’t know about other places around the world so I will speak from my experiences in the states. Only seven states thus far will recognize posthumously conceived children as LEGAL dependents and heirs to their parent’s estate. The remaining states deem these children illegitimate. They simply will not grant these children any rights because, from the law’s perspective, widows(ers) are no longer legally married to their deceased spouses. One of my closest friends cannot even add her deceased husband to her posthumously conceived child’s birth certificate because of the outdated legal system. How horrible is that? For the judicial system to ignore a deceased man’s child, and deny any legal entitlement is plain wrong. Even as much as to deny their child (who they planned for and wanted) the benefit of seeing their father’s name on a birth certificate. Backasswards if you ask me, there are plenty of people who did not want to be parents named on their biological child’s birth certificate. Should they die, that child would get benefits regardless of a marriage certificate because of their biological connection. Now having stated all that mess, let me get back to the concept of a “free handout”. In most states, it is impossible for these children to get their parent’s benefits because of this matter. What does that mean, oh judgemental ones? Yes, we posthumous parents have to raise our children on our own, with our own money. Every day. We conceived knowing that we would have to be the sole financial supporters of these babies. Guess what? The mothers I have talked to have a great handle on raising their children, and are economically sound. We have to be because our babies are not getting handouts.

Let me throw a little disclaimer out there for myself. I live in a state that DOES recognize posthumously conceived children. California Probate Code 249.5 has some criteria that must be met in order for a child to qualify for his/her parent’s estate. It is increasingly hard to prove, and numerous parents have been shot down here (which supports my claims that you have to be financially responsible on your own). I have fought for my daughter’s rights in a wrongful death lawsuit though and I won. I fought hard to get her recognized for a measly amount, the very minimal that can be placed in a trust till she is 18. The money didn’t matter to me, the principal did. I wanted the world to see that she was planned for, loved and wanted. A judge that presided over mediation recommended her entitlement based on this code, as did a second judge who stamped off on the orders. Get this, it was despite certain people saying that I was a liar and she wasn’t wanted. I had to fight harder to get them to understand that I was telling the truth because I only had text messages from my husband. Good old California, our state’s evidence code also allows for all electronic communication to be admissible in a court of law. My daughter is the FIRST child to be recognized in this legal domain. I am now an advocate for others, which is why I am writing this.

For all you naysayers, I AM fighting for my daughter’s rightful inheritance.  The purpose of me fighting for these things is to show the world that my daughter belongs to my husband 100 percent in terms of a biological connection and an emotional one as well. No child should be denied in the eyes of the law, but these ones are. These babies who had a very slim chance of even making their appearance in the world.  I will never stop fighting for my daughter’s rights even if it costs me more than what the monetary value of the case is actually worth. She is my daughter, he is my husband. They have rights, and I will die fighting for them. They mean that much to me. They were denied the right to a lifelong relationship by a negligent driver, but the tragedy will not be in vain. I am hoping that this will help ensure the rights of other posthumously conceived babies worldwide. I am not in any way shape or form using my daughter, I have no reason to. I have a stable career. However, I will make sure that I fight like a lioness for my cub’s honor with or without the approval of others. In some cases I am successful, in some cases, I may not be but I will never stop until I am forced to.

Posthumously Conceived Babies Are Against God’s Will.

I have seen this in some comments floating around out there. Excuse me? No, really. Let us digest this for a moment. So when doctors are successful at treating your father’s cancer, our God is praised for giving wisdom to the doctors to treat effectively. When a miraculous surgery takes place inside the womb of a mother holding an underdeveloped fetus, God’s grace is given to the baby and that mother. When a brain-dead mother can carry her twins 123 days while doctors sing to her and rub her belly, is that not God’s hands providing a miracle? YES, all of that is a miracle. So you are telling me because I could not procreate by having sex with my husband, that my daughter is not miraculous? You think that God did not guide the urologist’s hands so far after my husband’s death? You think God did not give the IVF doctor an ability to work with a very limited amount of living sperm and the very few viable eggs that I had to create our miracle? You don’t believe that my daughter was favored when she survived her twin’s miscarriage? Do you think that the NICU who helped care for my preemie did not perform miracles when she refused to feed adequately? THIS IS YOUR PROOF THAT MIRACLES TRULY EXIST. God promised Sarah and Hannah in the following excerpts:

Hebrews 11:11-12: By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive, even when she was past the age, since she considered him faithful who had promised. Therefore from one man, and him as good as dead, were born descendants as many as the stars of heaven and as many as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore.

1 Samuel 1:27: I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him. Hannah couldn’t have children either.

I will leave the parting note as this (as I am sure my anger about this speaks for itself). My daughter’s conception was miraculous, and I had prayed for her years before my husband died. I prayed diligently and faithfully despite all the obstacles and challenges that we had beforehand with conception. God made me wait until I NEEDED her arrival more desperately than anything in the world. God made me wait until she could have the ability to save my heart. These posthumously conceived babies are proof of God’s words and his abilities, just in modern day times. God is showcasing his powerful hand here.

 

 

Letting Go 2.0

On this day 6 years ago, I had no idea that in one short week, my our lives would be forever changed. In an instant.

Some days it feels like yesterday while other days it seems like it’s been an entire lifetime since I’ve seen you.

So much has happened.

You’ve missed so much.

What I’m finally realizing?

I’VE MISSED SO MUCH

The majority of the last 6 years has been spent going through the motions, getting by each day, surviving. We have come so very far, but the fact still remains that I haven’t been able to truly live.

Why haven’t I been able to live?

I haven’t been able to let go.

I wrote a post about this very thing nearly a year ago (click Letting Go to read that post) and I have done done what I said I was going to do. I said I was…

View original post 149 more words

Somebody to Love

Oh Lord

Ooh somebody, ooh somebody

Can anybody find me somebody to love?

I’d like to think I have been content in my life and where the Lord is taking me, I have experienced great joys even in the trials and pains of widowhood. Through all this time, I have been satisfied with being single and taking care of my boy (for the most part)… and honeslty, with baseball season thrown in, who had the time?! But for those of you who don’t know me, I am a dreamer, I am an encourager, I am a people person & once I got the taste of being a wife for over 5 years, it stirred up a passion in me I had never known before. That is something I greatly miss. We were created to live in community with others and serve the Lord with those in our lives. God puts passions in our lives and my passion since I was very young has always been to have a family. For a short while, I got a glimpse back into that agian. I had a relationship that didn’t work and now that passion has really stirred in me.

The downfall to that glimpse is that sometimes loneliness and impatience really sets in. I love my family & friends, and I have the best support system a girl could ask for, I just wish I had someone to romantically share that with. I say it often to my widow friends that I miss being a wife, for the love, the shared responsibilities & for having someone to lean on for better or worse. My continued prayer for my current season of life is to continue to rely on God for everything, for the comfort when I feel lonely & for the heart of whoever the man is that God will bring in my life.

For those who know me, if you know anyone who would be a great fit for me and the boy, feel free to set me up. Haha, but for real, I’m taking applications .

So in the words of Queen:

Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love love love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Somebody somebody somebody somebody
Somebody find me
Somebody find me somebody to love
Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Love you all!

A

We Remember

It’s Memorial Day. Families are going to the beach, cooking out, having parties.
My kids and I are staying home, keeping things low key. Because today, we’re remembering a man. Remembering him the way he wanted to be. And we’re remembering the men and boys and women and girls that he remembered.

I’m not a gold star widow. Let’s be clear about that right up front. I’m the second wife of a man who once was a boy who went to war. I’m the widow of a man that only partly came home from war. A troubled man, who fought the demons in his head for most of his life. He fought until his body and mind wore out, and the darkness engulfed him like peace, and he sighed, and let go of my hand. He felt unworthy of love. And I loved him. For all of it. For all he was. I always will.

Like many soldiers did then, he went to war as a child. He saw no other answer to fix his world. The boy who grew up carrying a radio on his back, running like hell, while ash fell around him. The young man who went to sleep in Cambodia, next to a foreign boy, protecting each other, and woke up the next morning on opposite sides of the conflict, with a knife in his ribs. The young Marine who, months later, hanging out of a helicopter with that radio pack on his back, caught a two year old girl who had been thrown into the air as the copter lifted, and held her in one arm, and road through the storm to safety.

He came home. Built a productive life. He became a lead paramedic so he could save lives~to balance his ledger. He championed for the children. He was their angel, spiriting children and their loving parent away from abusive situations, taking them to safe houses, to start new lives in freedom.

Freedom. It was so important to him. He did come home. But he was never really free. He was a prisoner of his mind.

I think of him on this day, because there are so many he thought of. He told their stories. How they had carried the radio before him. How they had carried the flag. How they had carried each other. How there came to be so many that needed to be carried. How their sacrifice gave him life.

He raised his glass to them, grilled the steaks, set off the fireworks, even though it meant weeks of nightmares to follow. Because remembering them, their stories, their lives and their sacrifice, is important. It is part of our stories.

So today, I sit home quietly, often with tears flowing down my face, my sweet daughters checking to see if I’m alright. Me checking on them.
And we tell the stories.
Their stories.

Their sacrifice will not be forgotten.