A letter from a reader.....It could never happen to us I said to myself in October, 1996 when my wife Lisa was diagnosed with breast cancer. It could never happen to us I said to myself as I stood at Lisa’s graveside on Christmas Eve 1999 right after her funeral holding the hands of my boys, five and eight. It could never happen to us I said to myself as a policeman drove into my driveway recently...

On Monday August 13, 2007 my fiancée, Stacy Stubbs, lost her life in Peoria, AZ when a selfish, immature, unthinking, irresponsible teenager hit her head on while sending a text message and attempting to control her vehicle simultaneously.  

Both these tragic events have left me a single father twice over.  It has been almost eight years now since my boys, Michael (16) and Joseph (13), lost their mom and just over two months since Rebecca (6) lost hers.  It feels like yesterday, it feels like a hundred years ago.  Time heals all wounds just doesn’t cut it in these cases, for them or for me.

Lisa’s death was over a three-year period and in the end I knew it was coming.  I had some time to prepare, as much as you can prepare for something like that.  On the other hand how do you prepare six- and eight-year-old boys?  I was able to hold her hand as she slipped off into her final slumber.  There was some amount of closure in that.  Sitting and watching Lisa die and then having to tell my boys were the two hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life, or so I thought.

Stacy’s death was so sudden.  Becca and I spoke to her just an hour before the accident happened.  More than two months later I still have trouble believing it’s real.  After the policeman left the boys came out of their bedroom and I told them what had happened.  To say they were stunned would be an understatement.  It was like living it all over again except this time they had a much better concept of death.  After I had several minutes to think and get myself together I took Becca on my lap and told her what had happened.  Tears flowed from everybody and we all huddled on the couch for comfort.

Then I had to make the inevitable call to her parents.  Her father almost had a nervous breakdown right there on the phone.  I couldn’t even imagine how they felt.  Now I know there can be harder things and I wonder what they will be.

The funeral did not offer any closure, not for me at least.  I got to say goodbye but there was no response.  I was able to apologize for all the little things but there was no forgiveness.  Worst of all was that Stacy had survived cervical cancer ten years ago.  She spent those ten years vigilantly fighting any recurrence of the disease.  Ironically the only reason she was in the area of the accident was because she had an appointment the next morning with her oncologist for a checkup.

All three of the kids were eight and under when their respective mothers passed away.  Remarkably the patterns so far have been the same.  During the day when they’re busy with school and playtime the world is fine.  Bed time is when the world of mommy comes alive, so to speak.  With the boys I had to tell them mommy stories over and over, how we met, etc.  With Rebecca she is afraid that I will die during the night while she sleeps.  She says if she sleeps with me she can stop it.  That’s the thing with kids, they want to fix everything.  Last week she asked me if I was going to get her a new mommy.  I was close to falling apart right then and there.

Michael, the oldest, has only vague memories of his mother and Joey even less than that.  I’m afraid Becca will travel that same path.  I can replay memories and tell stories to them as much as I like but only the images they already have will be the ones that stick and even then they will fade over time.

Friends and family came out of the wood work to help, both times.  In death there are two things that stick out in my mind.  One, many people go overboard with help when children are involved and two, everyone seems to think that food is the cosmic cure all.  Sometimes friends/relatives say things before thinking and then comes the uncomfortable silence.  Of course I let them off the hook.  Some seemed to get perturbed when you don’t need their help immediately.  Often they’ll tell you they know how you feel or they can image how you feel.  Guess what?  You can’t image it unless you’ve been through it and I’d never wish the experience on my worst enemy.

Several people comment to me that I’m so strong, especially to be going through this again.  Well it’s amazing what your mind and body can do when you have no choice.

Soccer moms brought dinner for a while and parents at school helped with daycare slack.  The phone rang off the hook constantly for several weeks and people just dropped by to see how were coping.  My employer was great, I took a month off.  Whatever time off I need to facilitate normal life for the kids I’m given with no questions asked.

Eventually though all the friends and relatives go back to their normal lives and we are left trying to find our new normal lives, wherever that might be. 

Now I’m mother and father, chief cook and bottle washer.  I bring home the bacon and then shop for it, deja vu unfortunately.  I’m lucky that the boys are old enough to take care of themselves.  They are very helpful around the house and they are wonderful at caring for their little sister.  Plus they have insight to what she may be feeling.  Becca has her six-year-old moments but she really has been great.  She recently had her long hair cut and is very proud that she can now take her own showers and wash her own hair.  It’s quite a help to me as well.

A typical day starts with three grouchy children complaining that they have to get out of bed.  Fortunately the boys dress and feed themselves however Becca will argue with me that her outfit doesn’t match or that she doesn’t like that type of cereal.  We grudgingly get out the door and at school I have her teacher confirm that yes indeed, white does match everything and her outfit is fine.  I make my way to work and finally get to relax.  After work I pick up Becca at the sitter’s house and then possibly have to pick Joey up somewhere and possibly have to take Becca to an activity at the same time and who knows there may be something at the high school that Mike forgot to mention.  Then it’s home to dinner.  On nights where there are no activities and everyone is home I get to cook otherwise it’s leftovers, mac ‘n cheese, pizza, whatever is quick an easy and I try to get some veggies in there as well.  By the time dinner has ended it’s close to bed time for Becca.  You might think I get some free time at this point but you would be wrong.  There are chores to do, articles to write, consulting work to do, bills to pay, should I go on?

The hardest thing for me is finding time for myself.  Something or somebody seems to need my attention almost all the time.  Being twenty-five hundred miles away from friends and family does not help the situation.  For me this is a lonely time, physically and mentally.