It’s November 2006 and this is my first column. While I have always written various types of articles, the idea to write a column is not entirely my own. Since Heather’s death, my psychologist Michael Murrell has suggested that I journal about my feelings. Having believed in the “average” person’s potential for many years, this horrible life event may be the catalyst necessary to begin sharing.

Her death has shown me that not only can we never take life for granted, we literally do not know what is around the corner. I often wonder if there are things I would do differently if I had known that I would never see her again, never get to talk to her, never get to look at her face and see her smile. While those thoughts plague me, I also realize that I have to move past that. The fact is that we will NEVER know the future and we must treat those we love as though each day is the last. Saying that and actually doing it, however, are two very different things. Most of us understand and know this on a cognitive level; it isn’t until we actually lose someone we love that we understand it emotionally as well.

I have also noticed that in a tragic life event, it becomes very clear how many loving, wonderful people there truly are. I have heard from so many genuinely concerned people that I wish I could share with Heather how loved she really is. That love is a large part of what has carried me through thus far. As I continue to head down this path and learn to deal with pain, something Michael has said to me has become abundantly clear: in order to deal with our pain, we must face it head on. And that is exactly what I am going to do - face my pain head on - for me, for our son, and for Heather.