I had Kate at a park that we've only been to a few times the other day.
Naturally, I had my camera.
I remembered being there with Scott sometime ago and searched out the photos.
It was our anniversary in 2008, almost 3 years ago.
I can't believe how big she's gotten.
Don't worry Baby Girl. Daddy will always be standing at the bottom to catch you. Even if you can't see him.
My sweet baby girl is growing up. I don't know when it happened but when I looked at these pictures that I took the day we went to Daddy Lake, and couldn't believe my eyes. 
I told Kate that she was getting to big and I pushed down on the top of her head (just like my dad did to me) and told her to stop growing. Tonight as we played Berenstein Bears Learn to Share (a board game) she sat sitting on the floor pushing down on her head. 
"I don't want to grow up mom. Daddy won't know what I look like if I get big."
I assured her that such a thing is completely impossible. Her daddy would know her anywhere. Not even heaven can keep her daddy away.
There are so many ways to grieve. Every person has their own response, their own way. No two ways are exactly alike. Something I've learned in this process is that aside from things that are completely and totally self sabotaging, there is no right way or wrong way to mourn a loss. 
Part of my grieving (and Kate's by default)is to keep busy. 
Too much idle time, is just that too much. Too much time to think. Too much time to miss. Too much time to dwell. Too much emptiness. 
So, we go. We zoo. We work. We swim. We dip our bodies in the lake. 
We try new things and cling to the things that reminded us of Scott. 
Old Threshers was for Scott. 
He could spend hours, upon hours cruising around Old Threshers, looking at tractors, horses, old cars. He loved to sit in the stands and watch the tractor parade roll by. Marveling at all the different kinds of tractors. Trying desperately to pick a favorite.
Truth be told though. Scott's favorite part of Old Theshers was talking to all the people. He could sit and talk with my Uncle Laverne, my Aunt Lynn, their friend Dave, the other friends and family that would come any given year for hours on end. When in doubt you could find Scott chatting with some stranger asking him a thousand random questions about his tractor. Scott's way to engage people, to really care, to really listen... God, I miss it. 
I wasn't sure we were going to go to Old Threshers. I literally waited until the two hours before we left to decide. The idea of going without him, I just didn't think I could bear it. 
On the heels of the weeks before, I thought being there, being in a place that was so "Scott" just might be what broke me. 
Thinking about it gave me night sweats. I just couldn't imagine doing it without him. Two years ago when we went, he rolled around in the rented scooter thing and saw everything. He got to go everywhere. Do anything he wanted. It was perfect. But, there would be no more perfect. Just a giant hole. 
Even with the last minute decision, my "team" rallied. Mom and Dad drove. 
Sere drove an hour from her house so that I wouldn't feel out of place with my big ass camera. 
Saskija and S2 brought the girls. Aunt Marie, Uncle Ron. Everyone rallied. 
We talked about Scott. We remembered past trips. We enjoyed the beautiful day, just like he would want.
The kids took center stage this time. Watching Kate play with her two little cousins. Asking Talise if she would be her "best friend". Riding ponys until we ran out of money. 
My girl, loves Old Threshers as much as her dad did. She could have spent days there. 
So could Raina. You would think Raina was born on a horse the way that girl acted. 
We made it through the trip. We more than made it through, we rocked it. We enjoyed it. We made new memories. Laughed at old ones and did what Scott would have wanted us to do. 
It's during the long, quiet, isolating, overnight hours that missing him, longing for him, needing him becomes untenable. Those are the hours that Kate, nor I, are content with memories, stories, old shirts. Where we crave the feel of his hand, the low rumble of his voice and the warmth of his kiss.
A restless night for the littlest Witt. I finally was able to comfort her by moving the rocking chair to her window and letting "Daddy's smile" shine on her. When my little girl needs her daddy, that's the closest I can come.
People keep saying there is beauty in death. I want to hit them. I've watched life make it's final march out of too many people. There was no part of it, even when peaceful, that is beautiful. I'm compelled to say more but should maybe just say less.
There is nothing like climbing into a bed with clean, fresh, sheets. I wish I could find the time and inclination to wash my sheets every day. It brings me a small piece of happiness.
Visits with friends that are really more like family (should I call them framily) and real family, are my lifeline. I survived the last two weeks because of them. And today between the long visits, short visits and calls on the phone, I had a few moments where I felt whole.
I have to mail a stuffed flamingo to my Grams in Texas. When the flamingo lost a leg this afternoon Kate insisted that Grams, and only Grams, was the only one that could possibly fix it. Any freight charge is worth it to have Kate and my Grams connected. Who needs Skype, I have a wounded flamingo.
I wish I had the energy to take my bed; clean, fresh sheets and all, haul it down the hallway so I could sleep under "Daddy's smile".
My eyelids are feeling heavy again. Maybe I've said enough that my mind can rest.
"Hey Mom. I saw Daddy's smile."
"You did Baby? Is the moon out already?"
"No Mommy not the moon. I do this" *reaches out her arms and turns her head skyward* "and I see Daddy."
"He was smiling at you."
"I know."
"You do?"
"Yes, because he loves me."
As I've been lamenting to anyone that will listen, it's been a rough week and a piece.
Really rough. Quite possibly the hardest week I've had in the last five months.
To combat this rough time, I've been squishing in as much "fun" as possible. Kate and I are on the go non-stop. Unfortunately more than about five minutes of "calm" reduces me to tears. Tears of anger. Tears of fear. Tears of uncertainty. But more than anything else, tears of longing.
Because, I don't want to/can't dwell on that. I've put together a little list of sorts. A few things that are make me happy, give me smiles (which I do have and are very genuine I assure you), and make me feel warm inside.
Late summer flowers.
I don't know why but late summer flowers have always been my favorite. The boldness of spring has gone and soft, delicate wisps are left in their place.
Seeing Kate laugh.
Every parents knows this one. It's simply the best feeling in the world.
Watching Kate sound out and read words.
It's just sight reading but, good heavens, I love it.
Meeting new people that become family after the first visit.
So many people have reached out to me. Offering kind words, love, prayers, and friendship. I've talked to a few. Had email exchanges with a few others. And in the case of Amy and her girls, have gotten together with. Anyone that will waddle like a penguin with your kid, is good people.
My dad's new employment.
A few weeks ago, my dad lost his job. I didn't blog about it. I didn't for a few reasons. 1) It's his business. This blog is my business and I want my family to feel like they still can keep some things private. 2) I couldn't face it. One more HUGE piece of bad hitting my family. I had had enough. 3) When so many other people have been out of work for long periods of time I found it hard to complain.
But I'm very, VERY happy to say, my dad now has a new, better than the last, job. A job that I know he'll do great in. A job that has brought renewed spirits to the family. A job that I hope is the stepping stone down the path toward the blue skies for my family.
The circle of friends.
Not to be confused with the "new" people that have reached out, the older friends have been so supportive. They laugh with me, they cry with me, they send me letters, cards, emails all with the intent of making me feel better.
I could continue this list. I could go on and on and on. But I've got a very dear friend stopping by. He says it's for the Cinnamon pull apart bread I just pulled out of the oven, but I know it's his way of checking in on me and making sure I'm doing ok.
I'm going to load up this weekend with as much good as I can. What will you be doing?
While editing the photos from the zoo, I came across this picture of Kate. I couldn't help but crack up laughing.
She's so intent. So focused. So mature. And yet...
so very, much like a little girl.
I had something else planned for today. A different post entirely. But I have to write what I feel. It's just who I am.
I want to talk about the zoo. I want to show you the pictures, relive the laughs, tell you more about my dear friend Amy. I want to be positive. I want to be happy. But I can't.
I can't act like my heart isn't breaking. Like I'm not drowning.
Last week I went to a wake for a friend. My family became friends with Ron (and his family) through Bonnie. If you've been reading this blog for a while you know Bonnie. Bonnie was the first friend my parents made when we moved to the Chicago area from Iowa.
Ron and his wife Germaine were a constant at Bonnie's legendary parties. I grew up thinking of Ron as a sweet, funny, genuine, caring man. One of the good guys.
It wasn't until I got older and really until Scott met him for the first time that I really connected with Ron. One of the first times Scott met Bonnie (and her "clan") was at a surprise birthday party for Bonnie's mom (Grandma Alice). Ron was there, as usual, with his gorgeous camera. Ron teased me about being photogenic saying that he could tell exactly what I was thinking because of my facial expressions. Scott stopped dead in his tracks and said "That's it. That's why I love you. I know everything just looking at you."
For our entire relationship Scott remembered that moment. He loved it and his favorite photo of us was a photo taken on that day.
Losing Ron, and going to his service, brought an abundance of my feeling back to the surface.
I stood there holding his wife's hand (or maybe she was holding mine. I'm not sure) feeling more connected to this 60+ woman than I do to almost anyone else. This invisible thread wrapping around us, tying us in a not so neat package and linking us for life. My heart broke for her. Knowing what she was going to be facing in the weeks and months ahead. Wanting to tell her it would get better but not really knowing if it would. Resisting the urge to wipe off her beautifully placed make up, pulling her to the floor and wrapping her in my arms and crying with her.
Instead, I followed my own advice and I shared a story with her and encouraged her to find the blue skies.
Since that moment last week, I haven't been the same. This dull, persistent ache in my chest has grown loud and unruly. I "see" Scott everywhere. Kate has been talking about him (and to him) incessantly. Every wish in every fountain, on every wayward eyelash and on the moon every night is the same from Kate "I wish my daddy could be here for all of the days and never, never leave me."
There we are standing at the beautiful fountain just off the shore of "daddy lake", the other 4 year old with us, wishes she could "talk and talk all day and never have to stop." and then there is my 4 year old. Wishing with all her pennies for something that can never happen.
We talk so much about not being able to come back from heaven. I try so hard to explain it in ways that she can understand but considering I don't understand it, it's difficult.
The idea of moving from summer into fall makes me want to literally vomit. It reduces me to tears and makes breathing difficult. Fall was our time of year. Scott loved it. We got married in the fall. We ventured out into nature, taking pictures and enjoying the cooler weather. Fall was always a treasured time in our house.
Not only is fall going to be hard to enjoy without him, it will also mark an entire season of his being gone. I'm a midwest girl at heart. I'm programmed to measure everything by season. I can't tell you exact dates but I can give you seasons for everything that's ever happened in my life.
The rust colored flowers, hay bails, pumpkins, apple pies, and cider are glorious, wonderful parts of fall. The crispness in the air. The vibrancy in the sky. All beautiful, wonderful, magical parts of the season.
But I don't want any of it. I want to keep my summer. Keep my beach and pool distractions. The ability to find something to do at any given moment.
Quite simply, I don't want to be that much father away from Scott.
I wish I could explain it. I wish I could put into words what it feels like to be driving along and have a song come on that transports you to a different time. That suddenly places you in your husbands arms again but you can't quite feel it anymore.
I can't find the right words to express the feelings I get to simply look at my daughters eyes and stare at the beautiful eyelashes that are her most prominent physical feature of her fathers.
Kate told me tonight as we looked at her "daddy book" for the 1,000th time that she remembers the day Kara came and took our pictures. The day before Scott died. "I 'member that Daddy not get the stickers off right and you helped us Mommy. But Daddy was hugging me because I not feel good."
She remembers what it feels like to be wrapped in his arms and I don't. Is it wrong to be jealous of my own daughter?
As my Grandma says "Grief will have it's way with you." This is just part of the process.
I admit it, I'm horrible at math. Give me a math that has a practical application (20% off at Gap, for instance) and I'm a rockstar. Give me some bizarre, abstract, math problem and I'm calling my kid brother. I'm not too proud. Dude graduated with majors in math, and history, he needs to use his over priced education for something. Besides, he owes me.
In this case though, my math is not wrong.
Today we had 1 beautiful day and I had 1 exuberant little girl asking me to play outside. Those two numbers together means I got 0 photos edited and ready to show you. Well, except for this one.
So maybe my math should be 1+1=1. No matter which way you slice it, I wouldn't change it for the world.
A quickie post with a few pictures of the weekend.
This is my brother Justin. It's his 26th birthday today. Everyone say "Happy Birthday!". 
This is Mark. He had a solo gig on Saturday night at the Raue Center. He was awesome. I cried.
This is Nate and Kristin. They got married Saturday afternoon at the beautiful Klehm Arboretum. I cried.
There were many tears shed this weekend but many more laughs.
More to come when I've had a chance to take a breath and edit these pictures.
Summer is officially here. 
Kate and I have been trying for weeks to soak up as much of it as possible. We've been to the pool, to the beach. We've been on picnics and we've played front yard baseball. 
Being out in the sunshine just seems to heal us. It reminds us that we are just little tiny people in the great big world. There are so many other things going on and no matter how hard we try to stop it, life just keeps on rolling. 
We can't go backwards. We can't undue the past. We can simply live for the moments that we're given today. Kate will hear certain songs on the radio and tear up. Announcing from the backseat that she's "sad Daddy is gone but he always sing me this song when I was a baby. Member mom? He loved it."
She's right. Be sad for a moment. Allow the loss to fill you. Long to make the call to tell him Sloop John B is on.
Then let it pass. Let the memories of Scott singing the song to my pregnant belly bring a smile to my face. Rejoice in all the moments we had to laugh, tell bad jokes and be part of Scott's life. There is still so much goodness on earth. Scott wanted us to always find it.
Kate and I had a great afternoon and evening together. She helped in the yard. We made dinner together. There were what seemed like 100's of games of Memory, I lost most of the time. And then before bed, we started a game of chase.
That game of chase, is going to be my downfall. Junior Miss is still upstairs rolling around in her bed, singing songs, playing with her friends and making up stories. Normally, bedtime isn't a problem for her but tonight to get her to sleep I'm going to have to pull out all the stops. Back rubs and playing with her hair until she's calmed.
The photos, words and memory sharing will just have to wait. Can't say I'm too upset about that though. 
How could I be?
I am the Queen of procrastination. There may be nobody on the earth as terrific as I am at putting off the things I don't want to do. It's a little known talent of mine.
Allow me to share a few 'tricks of the trade' with you.
Don't want to make the "bring with" list for tomorrow?
Clean the house. The windows are dirty. There are two dishes in the sink. Almost enough clothes for a half load of laundry so that MUST be tackled. Time to organize my socks.
Correspond with others. Return emails and messages that have been sitting in your in box for weeks. Over share on Facebook. Surf the web for new camera gear that you have no intention of buying.
Take your kid to a free church sponsored festival. It doesn't matter that it's 60degrees, cloudy, rainy and the place is a muddy, swamp pit.
Enlist all your friends to join you at the "event". You know your kid will stay longer if she has friends. As an added bonus, you'll have friends to chat with and more kids to help corral.
See, three easy steps, to putting things off. I will admit I have a mental list that reads something like this.
hamburgers and hot dogs - check
buns - check
condiments - check
ice cream - check
paper plates, forks etc - check
Captain Morgan - check
tissues -
Scott's ashes -
screw driver to open the box holding Scott's ashes -
strength -
courage -
Any thoughts on what one should wear to spread her husbands ashes at his favorite lake with his best buddies? Hmmm... you don't know either huh? Crap.
I'll leave you with a funny picture from the free festival Kate and I went to tonight. We were lucky enough to meet with the S12 family. The kids had a blast. 
I can't wait to share the rest of the pictures with you. Seriously, cute stuff. In fact, I better edit all 150 of them tonight. I don't have anything else I should be doing. Right?
I treasure every second with this girl. As much as she knows exactly how to push my buttons, she knows just how to help heal my heart.
My girl just loves being on a job site. The bigger, the dirtier, the more chaos, the better. 
I love sharing it with her. Already she asks wonderful questions, wanting to understand everything that's going on around her.
Finished off the day with dinner with Kristin, Scott (S12), Ethan and Brandon. It had been way too long. Spent too much time (enjoying every second of it) and now I'm way behind. It's a universal problem.
I saw this mama with her babies today as I was leaving a job site. The first baby ducks I've seen this spring.
As I watched this mama parade her little family through a busy parking lot, I couldn't take my eyes of the babies.
Yeah they're cute, fuzzy little guys (and girls) making little squeak noises. But what struck me was how they blindly followed their mother. They kept their eyes on her all the time. Never once looking toward me or at the other cars moving about. They just focused on Mom. If she was there everything was alright.
That's kind of how Kate and I are right now. There are lots of transitions and adjustments happening on an almost daily basis. Kate has handled all of them with grace, intelligence and calm that someone five times her age doesn't even possess usually. I really hope that it's because she's mimicing what she sees in me.
I'm trying so hard to do what Scott wanted. I'm trying to focus on the good. Working on smiling, laughing and enjoying life. Most of the time I think I do a pretty good job but every once in a while I fall. Not just a little stumble but a huge, massive, horrific, fall from the roof of a building. Leaving me splattered on the ground below in a bloody heap. It's just part of the adjustment, I guess.
It's interesting because I'm struggling to relate to the outside world and I've seen this week how much the outside world struggles to relate to me. People have an easy time with Kate because most assume she doesn't "understand" what's happened. They just play with her and everything is fine. But me... yeah that's another story.
It's been a reunion type week for me. I've run into people in public places, reconnected on FaceBook, and I've spent time with a few others. Everyone does the same thing. They say nothing about Scott, dancing around the question "how are you?" like it's going to poison them. Maybe they're waiting for me to bring up the subject, maybe they are hoping I won't bring it up at all, or maybe they think I don't want to talk about it. I don't know, I'm not in their shoes.
I'm in my shoes and in my shoes, I want to talk about Scott. I want to talk about what happened, what a wonderful person he was, how losing him will impact Kate and me forever.
I want to hear what everyone has to say but I also don't want people to feel like they can only talk about Scott. I'm perfectly capable of talking about other things. I talk about lots and lots of different things. I enjoy talking about different things.
What I don't enjoy is feeling like people are walking on glass around me. I assure you all, I will not break. There is nothing that can be said, done or implied that will break me. I've been through the ringer and I've come out the other side.
I've got this.
I'll be the proud mother duck. I will walk my daughter through her life, watching for cars, keeping her safe from harm, showing her how to move gracefully through life while not being afraid to jump.
I had a really REALLY hard time picking pictures to share. My happy place brings out the best of my photo mojo apparently. 
I was so camera happy the entire weekend that I even took a picture of the best sandwich in the entire world. Homemade corned beef, swiss cheese from a local dairy toasted on fresh, homemade rye bread. OH HEAVENS!!! Just look at it's deliciousness. 
Or look at the building next door. Which ever you prefer. 
Part of what I love most about my happy place is the diversity of what I see, do, experience. 
All things I can't get at home. 
An absolute silence like nothing I've ever heard before. 
All the gorgeous trees just wrap around you and drown away the worries and the stress. 
There is usually some physical labor involved. A way to push my body to it's limits. To take in deep breaths and fill my tired, suburban muscles. 
This time of year is especially glorious. Weeds that look like beautiful flowers. Rejuvenation everywhere. 
Sharing it with my best girl really made for a heart filling experience. 
As soon as I reassured Kate that you didn't need a television and that there would be no other people staying in our "hotel", she embraced the outdoors. I even managed to get her to stop screeching about every bug she saw. My kid HATES bugs. She seriously flips out over a lady bug in the house so having her in the bug capitol of the world and getting her to not freak out was a major accomplishment. Quite possibly the highlight of my mommy career. 
Seeing her walk through the fields in the warm,setting sun, drinking her milk and twirling her hair, an absolute picture of contentment. 
Yep, my girl gets it. She's not afraid to embrace life and explore. 
She already knows that I'll be right there to offer her a hand if she ever needs it. I can think of nothing better. 
Scott and I always wanted for her to be as comfortable outside, staring at water droplets as she was in a city at a charity gala. 
Sharing my happy place with her is all part of the master plan.
It was interesting to see her in a small town setting. Everything here in the 'burbs is so hustle and bustle. 
Slowing down, enjoying dinner, laughing, goofing off and guessing what the other person was drawing. 
How do you top a meal like that? With ice cream of course. 
It was so great to see her not only slow down and watch the world around her but to see her dance on the street while a random man played his guitar... 
Yep, those are the moments in life. 
"Blow on the dandelion and make a wish Kate."
"You too mom. What are you wishing for Mom?"
"What I always wish for." For all your dreams to come true.
