From the time that I was little, I wanted to be a mom.  I remember putting pillowcases on my head so that I could get “married”, then I would use the pillow so that I could “have a baby”.  Sometimes, I would wear both at the same time, which made my mom really nervous.

When I met Scott, I remember thinking that he would be an amazing father.  And I was right.  When he first received his brain injury, it crossed my mind that I might not have kids.  It was a devastating thought. Typically, people with the kind of brain injury that Scott had have a hard time controlling their emotions; and you can’t have a baby with someone who could lose control at any moment.  But, thankfully with medication, Scott was able to monitor and keep his in check.

I now have two kids.  My son is 8 years old and my daughter is 3 years old.  When Scott passed, my son was 5 years old and may daughter was 3 weeks shy of her first birthday.

My son was devastated when Scott passed, as any child would be.  He was extremely close with his dad, spending almost every hour of the day with him.  I remember having to tell him that his father was in heaven.  The sound of his cry is something that I will never forget.  To try and explain death and the finality of it to my baby was one of the most awful experiences of my life.  When my son began to talk of guns and shooting himself, I cried as I had never cried before.  I got him a therapist immediately, and he was able to get the help that he needed.  He still has his moments, but with the help of his therapist, I am now able to re-direct him and keep him in a positive place.

My daughter was too young to have known her dad.  The memories that she has of him are the ones that we have helped to create for her.  She knows who her dad is…we’ve had plenty of pictures of the two of them together throughout the house.  She’s still too little to understand death and the finality of it. When she says that she wants to go to heaven to see her daddy, it makes me want to throw up.  I know that she doesn’t know what it means, but it’s still an awful thing to hear.

My children are the joys of my life.  The true meaning of love.  My hope is that my children will eventually see all of the changes that I am about to embark on, as positive ones.  That they will realize that everything that I am doing, I am doing it for the three of us.  That I am teaching them the most important things in life…family, love and friendship.