Anger?

I've had some time on and off to disect this whole experience.  It's very interesting how I can flip flop through so many emotions.  It's also very annoying.

I found a picture that Justin had taken of Adam and me at Laguna Beach only a couple weeks before the accident.  It's funny how I hated that picture because of how I looked, and now, now 20 lbs lighter (one interesting byproduct of stress and sadness, even though I'm not exactly watching what I eat, hmm), I love that picture, even in my enormity.  I love that Justin was able to capture us together with our arms around each other. 

I find it really ironic that we had just done a Sunday drive and we took pictures of all the kids in front of the corn fields because this was supposed to be our one last "corn season" in Nebraska before moving on to Texas next year.  Justin got a picture of the two of us in front of the corn together.  We had taken our video camera and drove through the rolling hills, through the fields of corn and soybeans.  We love how beautiful it is here, how Omaha is not exactly what the rest of the country imagines the Great Plains looks like.  It's always felt like 'our' little secret about this place we live in--that there is beauty and good and life outside California, very much unlike what we anticipated this place to be like, and unlike what we figured our friends and family imagined of this place.

So, on to Anger.  I don't know what to think about anger.  I have been obviously enraged and thoroughly disgusted with the man that created this mess for me and my family.  Angry that he chose his fate--but that WE got wrapped up in his fate and this has become our fate too.

But the weird thing about the rage I can feel at times:  The thought comes to me (and sometimes I listen to it, and sometimes I very strongly bat it away from my mind when I need to have an angry moment) is that the Atonement of my Savior Jesus Christ makes up for all the hurt and anger and rage and confusion and betrayal and every other insane emotion running through my veins.  He died for me so that I can one day return to live with my Adam.  He paid for my sins.  And Adam's.  And all mankind.  And really He is the only one that knows every emotion that I'm feeling--He has felt all of this too.  And he sheds tears for me still when I'm not doing all that I can to be my best self.

And it would be a terrible thing to only focus on "the defendant" and the horror of what happened.  And really if all the focus is on the defendant, then Adam is lost in the shuffle.  The focus gets put on someone who I vehemantly want to forget.  I really wanted my children not to ever hear his name, never see the pictures that are in the media of this man until they were older and more apt to understand.  Unfortunately, in my anger, I watched the news last week and while Spencer just said things like, "Look!  Daddy is on tv!" Justin came in the room and saw JL's picture.  He asked if that was "the man." And I had to say yes.  He didn't really have a reaction to it like I thought he might.  I think he was more interested in the fact that his picture is on tv.  And I told him that sadly, his picture will continue to be on tv over about the next year or so probably.  It's such a bizarre thing.  No one wants this kind of infamy.  No one.

I do want so much for Justin to forget about that man.  As do I.  Not forget what he did, but forget HIM.  And then be able to simply focus on all of the good, fun, funny, amazing times with Adam.

The pictures I have in my head of Adam and his many fix-it projects.  Not a handyman innately, he knew how to read and study and would figure something out one way or another. Even if it DID involve 8 trips in one day to Home Depot.  But I have a new kitchen faucet and my toilet no longer rocks when I sit on it.  The toilet job still makes me laugh, picturing Adam with a mallet and having to break pvc piping.  Ahh.

Our trips together that I'm sure our family and friends wondered why in the world we would "waste" money and take 2 cruises during med school, or spend the money on airfare when we earned enough Hilton points through his stays for interviews for residency spots that we were able to have a free stay in Barbados.  I won't regret one moment or one dollar for taking those trips with him.  I have ingrained in my mind Adam chasing wild monkeys in Barbados with our video camera, and gawking when they came right up to our picnic table and tried to take our food.

Or hiking at night with him to Big Pools when we were dating.  It was a bit odd that he had a flashlight in his car.  But stranger that he kept a sleeping bag in his trunk like a homeless man or something.

Or our much needed dates through the years, when we had sweet babysitters watching our babies.  Our trips to Sonic.  Too many of them.  Creamslushes.

Or all the pharm rep dinners that we determined to go to together.  Mmm.  Mahogany Prime.  A great reason to have become a nurse and have been able to go out with him.  It was nice to have some doctor/nurse benefits for a short while.

Watching fireworks from our backyard together.  What we now call "real" fireworks.  Getting burned by fireworks the day after our engagement, sitting on the lawn at Fresno State.

Getting engaged on the beach at Morro Bay.  It was just what I wanted, and yet we never really discussed it before he actually popped the question.

Our beautiful wedding day in Oakland California.  The sun was so bright and the sky so clear that day that all the pictures I have of the day have huge sun-glare marks.  It was perfect.

Making him watch chick flicks with me.  Or my falling asleep watching one of the Star Wars prequels in the movie theater with him, and him in utter shock that I could sleep during such a loud movie.

Making him come inside because I was sure that we were going to be sucked up by a tornado multiple times, but he wanted to stay outside and watch nature's magestic fury unleash itself in our neighborhood.

Hearing the tornado siren go off in the middle of the night and to race with him to grab our children and get in our basement, only to find that a tornado had touched down a mile from our house.  We were scared.  And I was glad he was home with me.

Listening to him use his Spanish.  And shock a native Mexican that a blonde haired, blue eyed kid could speak fluent Spanish.  And convince the man to be our personal tour guide through the jungles of Mexico (cheaply), back to a remote set of Mayan ruins.  So fun.

Watching the face of a border patrol officer's response to the question of "Why are you coming into Canada?" as Adam responded, "To see Canada."

To watch his face when our sons were born.  To watch his concern for me, to feel the squeeze of my hand while I puked on the operating table with our two boys.  To have him reassure me that my O2 sats were fine and to keep me calm while Carson was having trouble breathing.  He always was the calm one, even when I could see in his eyes his worry.  He always kept it together.

And to hear of his response, days before the accident to the question, "Are you really serious?  Can't we have just one more kid?"  And he said how much he wanted a girl for me, but how much he loved just having 3 little boys.  Well, Adam.  You won on that one.  You got your 3 little boys.  I just wish you would be around to get to know #3.  I know you know the other two well.

But in the end, just like the saying goes....I told you so.  The freeway was NOT faster to get home from Winchell's.  Although technically, yes...it was.  It brought you home to our Father in Heaven.  If only you'd gone down 120th street instead that morning....If only.

But Justin told me your secret from that morning, one of the last phrases he remembers you saying.  He said you told the boys to tell me that the donuts were "really horrible" (because I've been doing weight watchers) when in fact they were "really good."  Yep.  I know.