Everyday I ask myself how can I possibly get through the rest of this life without Rich. Everyday I'm scared. Everyday I'm sad. Everyday I cry. Everyday Madi tells me she wants her daddy. Everyday I have to remember he got sick and died. Everyday my heart breaks again. Everyday I pretend I can do this. Everyday I remind myself to breathe.

I'm so grateful for the tribute show. It truly was a celebration of his life. I can't begin to thank everyone involved. I'm so touched by everyone's dedication and hard work. It was somewhat healing to see so many people come together in his honor. As bittersweet and overwhelming the event was, it gave me a few days of peace and strength. I know he was there enjoying it all.

I could see his face beaming with joy and even pride when his brother Matt was on the stage. That was the part of the show Rich would have enjoyed most. Rich loves Matt immeasurably and to see his courage and talent on stage that night was sincerely the best homage that Rich could have been given.

The days preceding the show I was an absolute dysfunctional mess. I think I was afraid that when the show was over people would stop thinking about Rich - that the show marked some sort of end. I can't bare that thought. And now I know that that is not true. I'm encouraged by the love that was in that room for him. I think I'm ready to actually allow myself to begin to heal.

I'm beginning to become excited for Ethan's birth. Before I was terrified and could only think that Rich couldn't be part of it. But, Rich is the biggest part of it. Ethan is my gift - my farewell gift. We chose his name because it means strength and I need him and Madi needs him. I know he is going to be exactly like Rich. The tentative induction date is May 19th.

Some people have mentioned we should do a benefit for Rich every year. I think this is a great idea. However, I would want to do it in Rich's name with the proceeds going to melanoma research. It is sickening and horrifying how a mole - a mole - stole his life. When he was first diagnosed in CA, the doctors told him he would be lucky to live a year. Of course, he didn't tell me this until just recently. He was always protecting me.
Cancer is ugly and devastating in no matter what form it attacks. My friend Kelly's sister April told me the other day that Rich is her hero. She and a friend decided to make an appointment to have their moles checked. April has fare skin and is a sun and tanning bed worshiper. April spent several hours at the hospital with us when Rich was at his worst. She and Kelly have even come over to clean my apartment. April was so impressed with Rich's courage and strength, she decided to make the appointment. Her doctor decided to do a routine blood drawl to check for diabetes because April had been craving a lot of sweets lately. They did not find diabetes. They found acute lymphatic leukemia. She is 27 years old and is now in a battle for her life. She is in Shadyside hospital undergoing heavy rounds of chemotherapy. She is sick and weak. Her hair is falling out. She is experiencing anxiety attacks and fainting spells. Through all this she says Rich is her hero. She never would have gone to the doctor if it wasn't for him. Please pray for her and send her positive energy.

Everyday I examine the blue veins that run the length of my forearm. Everyday I think it would be so easy to open them to release this pain, this sorrow, this anguish. Everyday I feel this is hell on earth. Everyday I look at Madison and remember my promise to take care of her. Everyday I thank Rich for our children. Everyday I miss my Rich Rust more than the day before.