A Year Without You.

Ali,

God, has it really been a year? I think back over the last 12 months and I can barely remember what Iʼve done. It feels like a blur, like a strange dream that I canʼt wake up from. There was a time when i didnʼt think I could make it to the next day and here we are a year later. And as weʼve been approaching your anniversary, I canʼt help but think about all the details of those final days. Most of it is torture to think about. Making those final decisions about your care and watching you in so much pain and listening to you calling out my name and looking into your eyes and holding you as you left this world. Itʼs too hard to think about and lately I canʼt stop. The one thing I try to focus on is our last night together before you went into the ICU. I was considering going home for the night and letting your mom stay at the hospital, but for some reason I felt like I needed to be there. I didnʼt think much of it, since spending the night in the hospital with you had become the new normal for me. We talked and laughed and laid on your hospital bed together and snuggled. It was our last night on this earth together and I remember how pleasant it was. We had a little movie night in the hospital room and you fell asleep looking very comfortable and pain free, which was a rare treat. We said “I love you” to each other that night before bed and had I known it was for the last time I would have said a lot more, but I take comfort in knowing that you went to sleep that night knowing that I loved you. Itʼs my last good memory of you.

The last time I wrote you a letter it was a few days after you left us and I was preparing a eulogy for your funeral. Then, just like now, I was alone in the dark letting the words pour out, trying not to let the tears get in my keyboard and for some reason, just like then, I felt like writing you a letter was the only way to tell you how I feel. Iʼve mostly kept my feelings and thoughts private throughout the year, but for some reason I feel an urge to post to the blog. Itʼs something I intended to do regularly but for some reason it just never felt right. You used to want me to write you love letters because you loved the way I write and if I had the chance, again, I would write you love letters every day of your life.

In some respects itʼs been a long year of regrets, thinking back on our life together and everything that I should have done. But, mostly Iʼve looked back on our life together and I wouldnʼt change a thing. Even knowing the indescribable pain that I would eventually go through, I wouldnʼt change any of it. I am who I am because of you. You entered my life and changed me forever. You made me a better person, a better man, a better father, a better everything. I spent most of my single years believing that there was a girl out there for me that was meant only for me and I only for her. I knew in my heart that she was out there and that we were meant to be together. And I found her. And she found me. And I believe it stronger now more than ever that I was meant to be with you, if only for a short time. And in that short time you loved me and changed me in profound ways. . .ways that will stay with me for the rest of my life, no matter what lies ahead. And you have given me the most amazing gift that I could have ever received. Olivia is a true gift and there is no doubt in my mind that she saved my life and continues to push me forward in times when I didnʼt feel like I could keep going. She is the driving force in my life and the love I feel for her is matched only by the love I felt and still feel for you. Thank you, Ali. Thank you for giving me that sweet little girl. I know that you are helping me with her every day and I know that you are guiding both of us.

Olivia is getting so big and so smart. You would be so proud of her. And I think you would be proud of me too. Iʼve learned so much over the past year. . .things that I thought I would never know and things I thought I would never have to do. I remember the first time I tried to do some clothes shopping for her and I was so scared and nervous. I had no idea what I was doing and I just knew that you were watching and cringing at the stuff I was picking out. Those first few times were difficult but now Iʼve got the hang of it and I love shopping for her. . . a little too much I think. I especially like the looks that I get from mothers that are surprised to see a 33 year old man putting together cute outfits in the girl toddler section at Target. Iʼm definitely not on your level, yet, but Iʼm getting there. I think Iʼm surprising a lot of people with Oliviaʼs wardrobe. Of course, we still have all the clothes that you were buying online when you were in the hospital. Iʼm so glad you did that. I remember when you were starting to get sicker and sicker and I finally gave in and gave you the go-ahead to buy whatever you wanted and how happy that made you (not that you wanted or needed my permission). If I could do it again, I would have taken out all the credit I could to give you an unlimited shopping spree on zulilly.com. It would have been worth every penny.

She is doing so many new things. I wish the past year wasnʼt such a blur and I could remember everything. Sometimes I think about all the things I would tell you if I was able to see you again or even talk to you on the phone. Every now and then when something funny happens or I need some advice, I pull my phone out and start to call you. Even now, a year later, I still do it. I would tell you so many things. How Olivia loves little baby dolls and how she loves to go shopping. She is so smart and so advanced. Even Dr. W has been shocked at how far ahead she is. She is talking like crazy now and even talks about you a lot. She loves riding in your car because itʼs “Mommyʼs car!”. She points you out in pictures and constantly wants to grab my phone, which she can navigate perfectly, so she can look at pictures of Mommy. I sing “Three Little Birds” to her every night so she will grow up loving Bob Marley just like you. And she knows all the words. Sometimes when I put her in bed I tell her to say hi to Mommy for me in her dreams. I hope you visit her in her dreams and I hope you have fun times together. Everyone is so amazed at how well she sleeps and Iʼm convinced itʼs because you watch over her at night. . . and hopefully to take care of me too and let me get good sleep. We are potty training and sheʼs getting really good. Weʼre not quite there, yet, but sheʼs getting better and better. It makes me sad to think about all the things that you would be teaching her and showing her. You and I felt so strongly about keeping you home to raise our kids and my heart breaks every time I think about what life would be like with you being at home and greeting me every day after work. I can just picture you and Olivia playing dress up and having tea parties and reading all of your favorite childrenʼs books. She still goes to Library every Monday so hopefully she will have the same love for reading as you had. Maybe when she grows up she will even give me a hard time for buying books instead of checking them out just like you did. Weʼve been on several trips this year. I even took her on a plane by myself, which was an adventure to say the least. Planes and airports and connections and checked car seats and rental cars and strollers in the security check points. . . we went through it all. It was tough, but it was worth it. Even then I knew you were taking care of us. It had to be you when I got to the gate for our first flight and I was so scared and then our friend, Becca, appeared out of nowhere and just happened to have a stand by ticket for that flight. And when she made it on the flight, she got sat directly across the aisle from us and the only empty seat on the flight was right in between us. She was so helpful on that flight and I knew it was you helping me out.

There are so many other things. I guess when I think about it, life is going on. Olivia and I are moving forward and beginning to make it through life together on our own. Iʼm trying so hard and Olivia is such a good sport and makes things easier on me when she can and I hope you see all of it and are proud of us. I know there are times when Iʼm doing something that you would do differently, but I hope, for the most part, Iʼm doing a good job raising our daughter. Itʼs the most difficult thing Iʼve ever done and I have the most wonderful support system and I hope that you continue to guide me and teach me how to be a better father. And some day I hope you can give me the words to explain to Olivia how much her mother loved her and how hard you fought in your final months and weeks and days. I am crushed every time I think about her not knowing you as she gets older, but I also know that there are lots of people out there that will never let her grow up without knowing all the little stories about you. Thatʼs the beautiful thing about you, Ali. You had an impact on so many people and changed so many lives. Itʼs incalculable. And Olivia will know that.

Iʼm not sure what lies ahead in the next year or the next 10 years or 20 years, but I know that I miss you like crazy, every second of every day. Itʼs impossible for me to describe how much I miss you. The only comfort I have is that you are watching over us and guiding us just as you did when you were here in the flesh. I love you so much and I always will. Your leaving has left such a massive hole and has crushed the ones that love you in such monumental ways. . . but we are all pulling together and pushing forward. We are surviving and I know you are watching us with a smile on your face and we all know that some day we will see you again. Some day Olivia and I will be able to hug you and kiss you and tell you all about the life weʼve led after you left us. Until then, keep watching and know that I, and all of us, miss you and love you with all our hearts.

XOXO, Ben

**To see the rest of the pics of Olivia and Ben click HERE.

9 thoughts on “A Year Without You.

  1. One word….wow. Ben, that was such a powerful, thoughful, Beautiful letter that u wrote. I am grateful you shared it with all if us.

  2. My heart weeps for you, Ben. I can’t imagine how life would be without my love and father to my children were gone. You are always in my prayers.

  3. Wow. Thank you so very much for sharing this w us, Ben. Thinking if you today, and often, and your beautiful baby girl…Joanne

  4. Oh my goodness Ben…When i read this letter, tears just came to my eyes. Tears of happiness and sadness cause it is so perfect. This letter to Ali was so real and you just write it so beautifully. I know both Olivia and Ali are so blessed to have you in their lives. You were always a good friend to me back in school, and now i can say that you are one heck of a man too. My hats off to you. May the Lord and Ali continue to watch over you and Olivia in life. Take care

  5. Ben, it does not surprise me in the slightest that you are an amazing father, and more than that, a father and a mother to Olivia. Your letter is beautiful and touching. I was especially touched to hear about you singing “3 Little Birds” to Olivia every night. I remember your Mom always singing to you when you were a baby. You are a natural. I have two girls and I think you have me beat on the wardrobe! 😉 You are doing an AMAZING job, and surviving every day in the face of grief is only showing your precious little girl what living with grace truly is. I wish you both healing & hope. Bless you both as you continue on your journey together.

  6. What a remarkable blog. There really are no words for the love I felt pouring out of this blog. You two truly are inspirational. Thank you for that. <3

  7. I was crying from beginning to the end of this blog. I am a new mom and I cant imagine my little one growing up without me. Stay strong.

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