I have had this book idea for quite some time but I am on my way. I still have a bit to go but I am actually working on the process. I am not going to lie, it has caused me a lot of tears but I knew that going into this project. Not only are my tears because I am reliving a great deal of things I would prefer not to but I am also feeling the past pain of those wonderful people that are helping me do this the way I want to do it. I am so very grateful to these people for sharing the love and loss they have experienced and I want to assure them that it will not be in vain. If it makes the process easier for one person, we did a great thing!! To date, I need to send a HUGE thank you to Lisa, Carey, Shannon, Lynn, and Tracy. You are the BEST!!!! I am looking forward to the responses from the other amazing people who have agreed to participate.

If you would like to help with this project and honor a loved one you have lost, please let me know.

First and foremost, I hope everyone had an amazing Easter!! Even though it was another holiday without Jeff, I had a good one. We hosted a small, family dinner of lamb and of course homemade macaroni-n-cheese! I guess that is one of the things that I had before and have it now so it’s “normal”.

Now, onto ‘things’. I have been having some heart concerns so I went to a cardiologist. After a 14 day monitor and an echocardiogram, it appears that I have some things going on that aren’t “normal” but not abnormal enough to be considered an issue. So once again, my normal is not the normal I expected but onward I go. Now, speaking of hearts…….there is this condition….Takotsubo cardiomyopathy (yeah, go ahead, say that three times fast!!) and most people have never heard of it. Well, they have not heard of it using the “official name” but in our English it translates to Broken Heart Syndrome which is more common to use. I first heard of it when I was young. When I was 9 years old, my Grandfather suddenly passed away. Prior to that, we would take the ride to my Grandparent’s house every Sunday for dinner. I loved these dinners. I looked forward to these dinners. I would watch my Grandmother run around like a typical Italian housewife of that time and watch my Grandfather sit by the television until dinner was served. I loved helping my Grandmother with the preparations and the dishes afterwards. I thought it was so cool that I was served coffee (actually, I was served cream with a splash of coffee) during dessert just like all the adults at the table. This was all until 12/23/1974 and then it wasn’t. We still went but it was never the same. I started to dread the trip and the time spent there. It was because not only did I lose my Grandfather but I lost my Grandmother too. The woman I knew was gone. I was physically looking at the person who was once my Grandmother but she was just a shell. Her heart was broken, her purpose was gone, she had nothing to live for, she had Broken Heart Syndrome and even at 9, I realized that within a couple months of losing my Grandfather, I was probably going to lose my Grandmother. But also, at the age of 9, I had no idea how to help this so I just continued to dread it and wait to lose her. Fortunately, years later, this woman found herself a new life. Just as my current life is not the one I had planned, hers was not what she would have chosen at all. My Grandfather was not only her love and her best friend, he WAS her life. Her identity did not exist without him. She got up in the morning and went to bed at night with one purpose…….my Grandfather. She didn’t drive until he was gone but she did it then because she had to do it. She started to go on trips with her sister-in-laws. She found a way to live and be happy. She remarried and even though she lost him a couple years after they married, doing this helped her and didn’t crush her the way losing my Grandfather did so many years prior. Ultimately, she lived to be three months short of 100 years old. She was my inspiration.

This all happened again when I was a junior in HS. My Great-Uncle/Godfather passed away suddenly and I watched my Aunt experience the same thing. Hindsight, hers was probably even worse (as if there is a grading system on this grief thing) because they were never able to have children so the form of support that my Grandmother had was not there for her. I acted as their child throughout my life but it’s not quite the same. She also was spared the ultimate outcome of Broken Heart Syndrome but just like my Grandmother, I just waited to lose her within months of losing my Uncle. She found a reason to live and it was often things that I was doing in life. She couldn’t wait to see me graduate from HS and then from college. She couldn’t wait for my wedding and would often tell people how much fun she had and that it was the last time she danced. She was so excited to hear about my job because she had been a school teacher in Philadelphia until she left her position to help my Uncle with his oil business. While she regretted that, she never complained. She received a copy of every observation I received and would call me immediately after reading the latest one to tell me how proud she was of me. She looked forward to the birth of my babies and then their visits to her home in Cape May. I started to feel pressured to give her things to look forward to and to keep her going. At one point, I remember telling my brother he needed to take one for the team and start giving Aunt Ret purpose. Well, we did a great job because this woman passed away just shy of 92.

I remember telling myself after watching these women struggle that when I got married I would NOT have my whole life revolve around that man. I would have my own interests. I would have a life inside and outside of our marriage. I knew that when I got married, I would love my husband with all my heart but I was going to protect myself from wanting to roll over and die when and if I lost him. So, fast forward, I meet Jeff. We do everything together and we get married. I mandated that we had interests that would give us time away. One of his was playing pool one night a week with a HS friend. He went away every winter on a ski trip with our crew but I would not go because I didn’t ski and it gave him time to enjoy something he loved. I was forced to be independent because he worked rotating shift work and we had three kids that all participated in high level sports. I had it all figured out. I even decided that when the time came, I would go before him so I wasn’t even going to have to worry about how to handle losing him….he was going to lose me and be fine. And with this comes the phrase “The best laid plans”. Yeah, I had plans until I didn’t. Jeff was taken from us and I was lost. I saw no light at the end of the tunnel. If I didn’t have kids, it would have been a no-brainer to just follow him to wherever he went on 1/14/2017. But……I did have kids and in addition to that, I had a husband who worked so hard for me through our 30 years together that I could never take the easy way out of this BS. I had a husband that I needed to make proud of me. I needed to be strong because he was always strong for me. I needed to go on because I couldn’t let him down!! And here I am, with those same goals……make him proud and be here for my kids and now the next generation, my bonus grandson Lucas and my arriving in June, 2nd grandson! It makes me sad that this generation will never physically know him but I have no doubt that he will be watching over them every second and the kids and I will speak of him as we always do so they will always know their Grandpop.

The answer to that was, I wasn’t. Well, I was thinking but it was about things that were never on my radar prior to January, 2017. The thoughts were all over the place. Looking back, I realize that quite often, my thoughts were totally off the mark but at the time, they were all I had. I guess the list of things is quite lengthy. The first overload came when I heard the question “Nursing home or let him go”. I still haven’t gotten over the day we had to let Sugar (The dog that Jeff had when we met. She quickly became OUR dog. No, she wasn’t our dog, she was our child) go. I thought up until then, deciding Sugar’s fate was the worst thing I had done or would ever have to do. That was until the day I sat at a table outside of the ICU unit with my children. Along with the kids, we had three important people on speakerphone. It was my brother, Joe along with Jeff’s best friends, Chris and Steve. We had THE discussion. We tried to look at things from a medical standpoint and not an emotional one. We all tried to put ourselves last and Jeff first. The decision was made. Jeff deserved better than the existence he currently had and would have for the rest of his time here. I still cannot use the word “live” because that was not what he was doing. He was existing. The man that always had a project going on or one in the works was now trapped in a body that was no longer working. He needed to be free and we knew that. I will forever be thankful for the tremendous amount of strength my kids had during this time. I am forever grateful for the friends who stood beside me during this because if it had not been for them, I would have never made it through.

Now, he is gone and it’s me and my brain. To this day, me being alone with my brain can be a dangerous thing but back then……..UGH. The overwhelming pain was crushing. It wasn’t just emotional, that pain easily becomes physical and there is not a doctor in the world that can fix it. I quickly had it in my head that I just needed to survive the year of firsts – first birthdays without him, first holidays without him, first anniversary without him and so on. That was my focus, get through these things and I would wake up on 1/15/2018 and be a new person. I’d be back to normal. I just had a year to get through and I’d be fine. During that year, I saw a widow post about how terrible the second year was and she felt it was worse than the first. I remember I wanted to tell her she was insane. There was no possible way that I could feel worse than I did right then. So, I went right back to handling the year of firsts. I jumped on any airplane I could so I was anywhere but home. The trips allowed me to see people I hadn’t in a while and see some places I had never seen before so they were a positive. I know I didn’t enjoy them as much as I would today but they were all a good thing. And then 1/15/2018 came! I woke up and was CRUSHED!!! I felt awful. I was in pain. Maybe I was in more pain that before. WTH!!!!!! I survived the year of firsts!!!!! OH CRAP!!!! Now I get it. The year of firsts was difficult but entering the year of seconds made me realize, this is FOREVER!! I now have a year of seconds and after that a year of thirds, and then a year of………. FOREVER! He was gone. It had happened and he was never coming back. He would never be beside me again. We wouldn’t kiss good night ever again. We wouldn’t hold hands in the car and play “Who sang this?” again. We wouldn’t have a meal together ever again. We wouldn’t have a fight ever again – yes, I would have been happy to have him around for a fight because then at least he was with me. That woman was right – the second year was worse! But, I made it through. I made it through with the support of people who still remain in my life. My kids supported me any time I told them I was going away and they were on dog duty. They all became “Team Mom” members and did whatever they could to try to make things easier for me. My dearest friend, Cheryl was a champ! Every time I said, “Do you want to?” she never hesitated to say, “Yes”. Those yes responses gave me glimpses of normality whenever we did something. So many things……trips (Ireland, Portugal, NC, NYC, Brigantine), meals, shopping trips, walking Longwood and on and on the list goes. I have told her before, I will never be able to truly tell her how thankful I was and still am to have her in my life. My Hockey Mom Buddy, Janice. She was on call all the time and made sure to check in on me consistently. I needed that and she knew it. She would go out to eat with me even when she knew she would be sitting across from a woman losing her shit at some point during the meal. My Dad continued to be my voice of reason. Any time I was losing my shit, I could call him and as he did so many times before, he could talk me down from the edge. I miss my Dad terribly but I know he and Jeff are having a great time together wherever they are today.

I look back and am so thankful that Evan put me in my place a couple times when I needed it. The first time came when I was having a meltdown in my room. I was talking to Jeff and quite often I would start by telling him how much I loved and missed him and ended up yelling at him for not being there! Evan heard me yell at Jeff for leaving me. He quickly corrected me and told me to never say that again. He told me Jeff did NOT leave us but instead was taken from us. He was right! I couldn’t be mad at Jeff. If I was going to be mad, there were a ton of people I could put on that list and Jeff should not have been included. The other time Evan snapped me back was when we were having a conversation and I apologized to him. I told him I was sorry that it was Jeff that was taken and not me. I explained to him how much better they would have been if the situation was reversed. Jeff made considerably more money than I did. Jeff could fix things in a second that I would either need to have the boys do or hire someone to do it. Jeff just seemed to have more to offer them than I thought I had. And once again, Evan looked me in the eye and told me to never say that. He told me that it simply wasn’t true. He then told me why he felt that way…….he said Jeff would have never been able to live without me. And once again, I was schooled by my son but thankful for his words.

Here I am, 6 years after losing Jeff. I am thinking more clearly. Do I have my moments? Of course I do but I am so much better than I was. Am I a work in progress? Yup, but I was before and I think everyone should always be a work in progress. We always have room for improvement. Yesterday, I even started back on my goal to write a book. In addition to that, I have another “project” in the works. I guess I am thinking!!!!!!!!!

I have struggled a bit recently. I know reviving this blog has brought things back for me but I know that the first blog eventually helped me and others so I am hopeful that this will do the same. As I stated before, some words do not exist to describe the situation but I am doing this today to attempt to “let go” of things that rattle in my head quite often. Those of you who were around when this shit show happened know that I wholeheartedly believe that if ONE person did his/her job that day, he would still be here but sadly, that did not happen. So, while I would love to look every person in his/her eyes to tell them what I think, I will never have that opportunity so instead I will write them a letter.

This is to the people we came in contact with the day of January 5, 2017 and until January 14, 2017.

To the ambulance staff – please listen. Listen to every word the patient is saying. That one symptom you ignored truly meant the difference between life and death. Watch the person closely. Look at the non-verbal signs to show you that something terrible is happening. Take the time to truly come up with a potential diagnosis rather than a quick thought that can be incorrect. When a patient cannot hold his head up due to excrutiating pain, do not make him walk to the ambulance! Do your job!!! To the triage nurse – please listen. Do not assume that the information you have received from the ambulance staff tells you the whole story. Do not assume it is “a stomach bug” when there were so many other symptoms that stated it was not a stomach bug. Do not push a patient who is in distress into a hallway alone for an hour. Do your job!!! To the woman working the registration window – please listen. When a frantic woman comes banging on your window in need of help because her husband is now having a stroke in the hallway we have been left alone in for an hour, the response should not be “I’m not a nurse”. Help the person, get the nurse, do something other than have the woman begging to have the medical care he so deserved. Do your job!!! To the ER doc and nurse – thank you for trying during the brief time you had him. Thank you for allowing me to overhear the nurse say to the doc, “What are they doing out there??? This is the second one.” because it let me know that we did not drop the ball. You tried to do your job but had the odds against you due to the actions of those before you. To the Neurosurgeon – I understand you have a job but you are a person too so please act with a bit of compassion. Do not shove a paper in a woman’s face and say “if you don’t sign this so he can have surgery, he is going to die”. Are you kidding me?? You took the time to say that? I would have signed my life away to save his that day and you present it to me like that???? And on the flip side, please take your time when you should. Take the time to find out why that clot was there. If you had, the second stroke would have never happened but instead he got a quick fix and ultimately had the second stroke. Oh, back to time, be as quick as lightning when it calls for it. Waiting almost 2 hours for his second surgery to start caused his brain to die. To the Neurologists in the ICU – please listen. Do not doubt what the family is seeing. They know this patient far better than you ever will. If they tell you he is answering them with his eyes, believe them and come see it in action. The family is fighting with all they have. They are struggling to understand what is happening. Please, don’t make it worse. In the middle of the chaos, do not recommend a novel written by someone who also has lock-in syndrome. I cannot read a full book six years later. Do you really think I was going to sit down in his room and read??? But, to the one neurologist who showed compassion, thank you. Thank you for caring. Thank you for feeling for us. Thank you for responding the way you did when I asked you if I could have a hug. You didn’t just say yes, you said “Could I get a hug from you?” You whispered in my ear how sorry you were that this was happening to us. You were human and it meant so much in a world where most people had not been. To the ICU nursing staff – for the most part, you were a welcome part of our days but…….when a woman is staying by her husband’s side for a total of nine days, give her the dignity to use the shower in his room because he was certainly not going to use it. You see, she wanted to look her best for him during his last days. She wanted him to see her the way he had for almost 30 years. And on top of all that, she wanted to feel ‘human’. Trying to do this as quickly as possible by using a sink was an added issue that was not necessary.

In a nutshell, I understand that for most of you, he was just a patient but for us he was our world. The loss we have encountered is the worst thing imaginable. We lost an amazing husband, an amazing father, and an amazing friend. A man who always did things for us before he would consider himself. A man who was supposed to be here to enjoy all the things that have happened since 1/2017. And now we have the next generation who will never know the best Grandpop they could ever ask to have. A Grandpop that would have been so proud of his grandchildren. A Grandpop that would have done all the things that Grandpops do. He would have been planning the Disney trips for them. He would have been figuring out the sports schedules so he could see as many games as possible. He would have given them the hugs that he made people say, “Jeff gives the best hugs.” He would have sugared them up and then take them home to their parents!! But, above all things, he would have loved them with everything he had because that’s what he did. Now, instead of these things, they will have the best guardian angel ever. He will watch over them from up there. He will always love us because we certainly will always love him.

Well, today is mine!! I picked this picture because it is the epitome of a time when I didn’t have a care in the world! I was taken care of by a ‘village’ that loved me with everything they had. I had no worries. I had no stress. Life was good!! Now, here I am! So, because I didn’t have these kind of days before 1/2017, I’m going to blame it on that! This process has shown me that even today, the smallest trigger can send me into a spiral and when that happens, look out!! To most, this chain of events will seem silly. Heck, if I were reading it, I would probably think it was silly too but I’m not reading it, I am living it and it is anything but silly. It began last night when we decided to watch Virunga. It went down from there. As I watched the gorilla named Kaboko struggle and ultimately die, I started to ‘lose my shit’. I was literally sobbing over the death of this beautiful animal. I was up until 4 am just crying. I kept seeing him in my mind and felt such a deep amount of sadness. I finally went to sleep but shortly after opening my eyes, I was once again a blubbering idiot over Kaboko. In addition to this, as I was watching this documentary, I noticed a member of a private recipe exchange group was being disrespected by another member so I tried to educate (yeah, I am still trying to be a teacher) the person as to why the comment was incorrect. Most other FB members actually thanked me for my comment that indeed taught the group something. That was until another member jumped on me. I continued my path of education but she was not having it so I stated I was not going to argue with her. She then had a couple other members tell her to back off and at that point, she took the easy route and blocked me – not a loss at all in my world. The person who originally started all this actually apologized to me. I thanked her and just said that I felt the original poster was the person who deserved the apology. Woke up today to find the admins jumped all over this and selectively deleted parts of my postings. I reread the rules of the group and I never broke any of them. In reality, the other two posters that I tried to educate were the only ones who actually broke any rules. Oh well, I left the group. A couple other stupid things got caught up in my brain so I once again f myself crying again. And the thing that sent me over the edge…..it’s St Joseph’s Day. The day I would have called my Dad to wish him a Happy Feast Day. I always sent him a card until Hallmark decided to stop selling them (guess they needed space for a more important event like “Hope you hang nail heals quickly” but anyway………Not only can I make that annual call, I cannot talk through what I am going through with the guy that was always there to be my voice of reason. See, I told you it was going to appear silly and tomorrow is a new day with the opportunity for a new beginning but until then, my head is killing me, my heart is broken, and no matter how much I cry, I just cannot run out of tears!! Today, I need to repeat over and over the following quote – Never regret anything that has happened in your life. It cannot be changed, undone, or forgotten so take it as a life lesson and move on.

Yes! I am a widow! I absolutely hated that word in 2017. A widow……it sounded so nasty to me. So dark. So not possible!!!! I was a widow! NOOOOOOOO! It is not possible. I’m 51 years old. I have a lot of things on Jeff’s honey do list that still need to be done!! I just had a normal morning. A widow??? Are you freakin’ kiddin’ me????? How the hell did this happen??? Oh wait, I know exactly how it happened because if you asked me to tell you the story, I could still do it with every last detail. A story that happened 6 years ago that I remember as if it were 6 seconds ago. Anyway, back to the “W” word. I desperately tried to come up with a different word that I could be because that one was NOT working for me!! I wanted to invent a new language. A language that made sense of all the things that were not making sense or that I couldn’t explain or I just didn’t seem to be able to find the “right” word for the situation. For instance, I knew it wouldn’t get ‘easier’ over time because the hardest thing I have ever dealt with does not have an easy component to it! I knew it would not become more ‘tolerable’ over time. I knew that it would not become ‘less important’ over time. I knew all these things but I did believe it would become something. I would find a way to go on and be ‘normal’. I would be able to walk this earth and live again. I knew I would do this because the alternative was to go with Jeff and WE had way too many things going on here so at least one of us had to stay around to try complete them. With the title came this thing, Widow’s Fog. Had I ever heard of it? Of course not! Had I thought it would happen to me? Of course not! Did it hit me like a ton of bricks? Of course!! Can I explain it to you? I can try but again, sometimes there just aren’t the right words and the way it affects you can be different from person to person but here are the biggest ways in which it got me. I was a teacher (well, I’ll always be a teacher but I’m just not “officially” a teacher anymore) and I was a well read teacher. I loved to read, I loved to analyze, I loved to discuss books, and I loved to get another book to start that process all over again. Now, I find myself as a widow. What better time to become a major bookworm than when you have all the time in the world? I grabbed a book….yet another Mary Higgins Clark novel. I got ready to wander into another place. I got as far as the third word on the dedication page. Over and over I read the same thing and just could not understand what I was reading. And now, 6 years later, I still struggle a bit with reading. The other thing…..I was at a loss for words. Now prior to this, no one would say I was ever at a loss for words!! All of a sudden, I would be talking, I knew exactly what I wanted to say, and I had absolutely no way to say it. It could be a whole sentence or more often just a word or two. I would stop dead in my tracks and struggle. I felt like I was playing charades…….small word, one syllable, and so on. No matter how hard I tried, I could not find the word. I still have moments like that or know exactly how a word should be said but I cannot remember how to pronounce it correctly. It is quite crazy but over time, it has become less of an event so onward I go. Now, back to the W word. I own it now. I’m proud of it because that means that someone allowed me to love him until he left this world. Yes, I am a widow and I always will be a widow. I don’t have an ex, I have a husband (who just so happens to “live” somewhere else). I will refer to Jeff as my husband when I talk about him to others and that will never change because I AM A WIDOW!!!

You’ve got this! You are the strongest woman I know! So proud of you! And on and on and on I can go with the list of phrases I heard spoken to me and about me and that I just couldn’t believe. I got this???? The only thing I got is a life that I didn’t expect and definitely didn’t ask for at all! Me??? Strong??? You haven’t seen me sobbing in the shower, or in my car or yelling at Jeff at the top of my lungs asking him to help me. Proud?? What have I done to make anyone proud?? I certainly do not feel as if I have done anything to make anyone feel a sense of pride but I do appreciate the support.

Memories…..I have TONS!! Mostly great ones. Ones that people tell me would get me through and for the most part, that is true. I can smile thinking of so many things in our life together. I remember meeting Jeff (which was arranged by his Mom!!! She was on a mission!). I remember our first date. I remember our dinner date that turned into our engagement that turned into a surprise 22nd birthday party – lucky for him I said yes or we would have been giving the attendees more of a surprise than they gave me!! Finding out we were going to have a baby, and then again, and yet again. A proud Dad from the first breath Jeffrey took. I always joke about it but I know that wherever he is right now, the people with him are just hoping he will stop bragging about his kids because I’m sure he hasn’t stopped!!! And now on the flip side……I have happy memories that make me cry. Why? Because they were our lasts. Lasts that we didn’t know were our lasts. Our last birthdays together, our last holidays together, our last family vacation, and more and more and more. I go back and forth as to what would have changed if we knew these were going to be our lasts and I am not sure they would have changed at all. All these lasts were great and I know Jeff enjoyed every one of them. I remember thinking, if only we had some time to prepare but then that could mean Jeff would have struggled and I would always take the “harder for me to go on” scenario than to have him go through hell so we would have time to wrap our heads around the potential of losing him.. The photo above was our last Christmas tree together. Of all the photos I could pick, why this one?? Because Jeff LOVED everything about Christmas. He loved the lights, he loved the decorations inside, he loved the shopping because he loved the smiles when those gifts were opened, he loved the music, he loved the traditions, and the list could go on forever. You name it and he loved it!! So I look at this last tree and realize the ornaments document so much about us…..our first Christmas as a couple, our first Christmas as a married couple, our children’s first Christmases, our hockey obsession, our jobs, our hobbies, our lives even before we were US. It always was a beautiful tree. I would love sitting in the room that was entirely lit by the tree lights. I would love that Jeff would take the timers off for the outside lights and the tree lights on Christmas Eve so they would be on the entire night so Santa could see our house. Our NORMALS that became abnormal in one brief moment in time. Lasts that even today make me cry. I don’t cry because of the memory but I do cry because of that one word……..LAST. I think I have come to dislike the lasts because we were supposed to have more firsts!!!

I’ve been thinking about my post from yesterday and I have some ideas. I need to run it by a focus group to see if my thoughts are good ones. If you are or know a widow, please ask them to reach out to me at alwaysmyjeff@yahoo.com.

When this crazy journey began, I was so fortunate to have people around me to help my attempt to be “normal”. Poor Cheryl became my full time babysitter and was such a trooper. You know you have a good friend when they will jump off a wooden platform in insanely hot weather because you want to go zip-lining!!! Anyway……..I tried to go out as often as possible. I think it was the “get back on the horse” mentality. I never turned down an invitation even though I would come up with 100 excuses to not go even while I was traveling to the destination. I often had some sort of meltdown during these outings and would try to do it as quietly as possible but I still felt as if everyone in the room was staring at me. I’m sure they all wondered “what is wrong with her???” I probably would have done the same before this all happened to me. I often wished that an old tradition still held true…….back in the day, black was not vogue but instead a sign of mourning. Widows wore black for a year and that was an immediate signal to people that she was in her mourning period. When I would have my breakdowns, I wished there was a signal that would let people know what I was experiencing. Why I looked “normal” except for the fact that that I randomly started crying at dinner, or on a plane, or in the grocery store, and the list goes on and on and on. I thought about things I could wear or have to let people know but short of having a sign, there didn’t seem to be anything. Maybe that’s something I can think about again. I’m pretty much (yes, 6 years later and I can still be triggered by the smallest thing) past that phase but every second someone is not so maybe I can take some of the weight off of the new members of the club.

I just had a feeling that I needed to get back to the blog so I did. It was painful to revisit “that” day. It was painful to look at so many pictures that were taken “when all was right with the world”. On the flip side, it was painful for me to not blog. Well, I guess I was supposed to get back to the blog because the very next day, I received this FB memory! I believe in signs and I believe EVERYTHING happens for a reason!!!