Folks, I have tell you all that I just haven’t had the time nor the energy to write and post regular updates.

It’s been just over one month since Monica’s Celebration of Life service and since July 14, I have focused all of my energies on resuming work, getting Monica’s physical and legal things in order, keeping my kids active, and trying to get some quality vacation time in with my kids.

While I’ve been able to settle in to a new routine of sorts, I now have to deal with the declining health of my dad. I introduced this to you all last month after he was admitted to Fairfax Hospital - merely two days after Monica’s CoL service - for complications of his pancreatic cancer. All of this has left me emotionally drained and frankly too tired to sit in front of a computer terminal to keep the site updated on a more regular basis.

I apologize for all of this, but it is what it is. I am sure that you all understand.

As of this writing (August 15, 2007), dad’s health has deteriorated to the point where he is now under hospice care. I call his situation “hospice light” as he is still “with it” but the care that he is now receiving is palliative only. I don’t know what time he has left, but he will probably not be around to see the autumn leaves fall.

Once again the Cooper family finds itself in an all-too-familiar setting. On Monday July 30, pop was released from Fairfax Hospital after receiving treatment for cancer-related fluid buildup in his left lung. While his release that day brought some semblance of relief to our entire family, it was eerily similar to that of Monica’s final trip home in June. Like Monica, my father will live out the remainder of his life at home where he, too, belongs...in the loving care of his family.

People have told me, “God Dale, what next?” To them I respond, “This is life.” I wish that I had another retort, but what else can I say?

Folks, this really is life. Look all around you and see for yourself that our journey really isn’t much different from that of so many others. Yes, our life story is more out in the open than most others (because we chose to make it that way), and we appear to have been cast into the fire of personal tragedy twice in one season, but need I remind you that no one escapes this world free of personal despair, suffering and pain?

While you read these words, don’t let our plight monopolize your thoughts. Put a prayer in for us, then make sure that you add your thoughts for the miners still trapped in Utah and for their loving families. And think good thoughts about the families of the folks who literally fell victim to the bridge collapse in Minnesota. They need your prayers as much as we do. This really is life. And it’s all good...believe it or not.

Missing Her

It’s now been a month since Monica’s Celebration of Life service, and the fact that I am now alone is finally beginning to settle in.

I believe that I am grieving like any other man who has just lost the love of his life. I think of her all of the time, but I know that she is no longer among us. I have honored her memory by placing certain things of hers in plain view around the house so that the boys and I will be reminded of her presence every day moving forward. And I have given myself some solitary time to process things. On the same token I have started the process of thinning out things of hers that no longer have a place in my life. All is normal I suppose.

As expected, I have been gradually cleaning out her closet. I have bagged up five huge garbage bags of clothing and shoes with donation to a local charity in mind. I have taken the time to single out some things that have special meaning. There are certain things that I just can’t part with right now. I hope that by storing these special things away today I will once again come across them sometime in the future and be reminded of just what she meant to me in this life.

Admittedly, it’s been very difficult at times. While I have been able to clean out a lot of her daily knock-around clothes, I am still unable to bag up her sweaters. Why? Because many of them still smell of the perfume that she liked to wear. I have the feeling that will take a very long time for me to let go of those items. Nearly every one of her sweaters reminds me of a special place and time. I just can’t do it yet.

I have tried my best to keep myself busy with work and kids, but things are so very, very different. What characterized each day of our life only three months ago simply isn’t a part of my life any more.

Monica used to call me every day late in the morning or early in the afternoon just to check in. I would see her number come up on my caller ID and I would either need to prepare myself to entertain the news of the greatest sale in Target history or I would need to brace myself for another tearful description of the latest pain that was racking her system. In any event, my phone is now eerily silent.

Every day, when I got home from work, and with rare exception, she would meet me in the kitchen or I would go upstairs to see her for my welcome-home kiss. Our kitchen and bedroom is now only home to darkness and silence.

And every evening as we sat down for our family meal, we would chat about the day’s events. The banter at my dinner table now has been reduced to stories of the children of summer.

I find the quiet time between the hours of 9-11PM to be my most difficult. That was our time to chat about the day and to share our hopes and dreams. That was our time to catch up with each other. And it was our time to reconnect. The silence that now rips my mind apart during those hours makes me wish for quick sleep. It is then…every night, that I hope to see her in my dreams.

Every day it seems, I find a reminder of her somewhere in our home. It might be a necklace, a long forgotten earring or a note scribbled on a piece of paper. Last week it was another needlepoint that she had started, but never finished. It reads “To know thee is to love thee.” Each find like this brings me to my knees in pain. Ironically though, I hope to continue to find more such items as time passes on. They are her little messages. Even though each discovery will likely bring me to tears, each thing will remind me of her when she was here and happy.

On a related note, I still have a few text messages stored on my phone that she sent me back in March. One of them reads:

Another one reads simply:

Her final one to me reads:

I just can’t delete any of those messages.

I knew deep down that the days following her service be the hardest of all. Before that day, every ounce of energy that I had went to the planning of her Celebration of Life. I spent every waking hour leading up to her service doing my best to make sure that her legacy would never be forgotten. That CoL slideshow? You can blame me for that. Well, that of Becky H., too. I wanted everyone in the audience that day to see Monica in her great days. I spent hours just on that simple project. Becky tied it all together in a way that brought her back to life. The drive to make certain that every detail was taken care of during those couple of weeks mimicked the energy that I burned to take care of her during her final days. It was a little different in application, but not in passion.

What I did the two weeks between her passing and her Celebration of Life was an expression of love between two people that would eventually be seen by all who wished to participate in that day. I wanted to make it perfect. Judging from the outpouring of love that our family received between the day of her passing and finally on July 14th told me that I did a pretty fair job.

Now that all of the email has ceased and all of my friends and family have gone back to their own lives, I now crave peace and solitude. It is now time for me to sit down alone and address the silence. I have learned to take that special time after the kids have gone to bed to talk to her. I have learned to take the time to share with her my new hopes and dreams. The good news is that she talks to me. I hear her voice. I see her smile.

My only wish now is to once again kiss her head and to caress her face. I guess I’ll just have to wait on that.

That is what hurts the most.

Just What is a Penny Worth These Days?

According to most folks, a penny just isn’t worth much these days. When we see one laying on the sidewalk, we all seem to think that the calories necessary to fetch that little piece of copper-coated zinc alloy off of the ground is more important than the penny itself.

As the old adage says: one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

I look at pennies on the ground in two ways. First, that penny represents more than I make on a losing day on the stock market (plus picking it up off of the ground is a tax free event!). Second, I see pennies on the ground as a reminder that Monica is watching over me. Honestly. I’ve found pennies in the strangest situations. The day that I picked up Monica’s cremains from the funeral home, I found a penny (facing up) directly under the driver side door to my car. The day that we celebrated Monica’s life, I found another one (again facing up) in the church parking lot. While most scientifically-minded folks out there will certainly be screaming coincidence!, take heed. Haven’t you ever heard the term “Pennies from Heaven?”

I now have Monica’s favorite wine glass at home with about 10 pennies and few other small coins in it. At this rate, I may collect enough for a bottle of Monica’s favorite wine …oh, by 2012. Once that day comes folks, I will buy that bottle of wine, pop the cork, say a short prayer and drink to her memory … and I will think back to a time when we were first dating. I would often ask her “A penny for your thoughts?”

Every time that I see a penny laying on the sidewalk these days, I bend down, pick it up and know that she’s asking me that same question…and I think of her when we first started on our journey of life together…and it makes me smile.

What's New?

On August 9, I met with a financial expert to discuss the creation of a private foundation in Monica’s name…right now, the name that I’m thinking of: The Monica Cooper Children of Breast Cancer Foundation. The intent will be to raise money for young children who have lost their mom to breast cancer. Per my last update, I already have one young lady in mind. She was the daughter of one of Monica’s chemo buddies. Her mom passed away four days before Monica passed. I will have more information on that later in the month. Stay tuned.