Questioning

     I never used to question anything.  I took for granted that I would graduate college, get married, have kids and be happy and content for the rest of my days. 

 

Then life happened. 

    Things didn't quite turn out the way I had planned.  There were struggles and illnesses and money problems.  There was lots of moving around, lots of diagnoses that were not in our favor.  There was death.  Now there is more struggles, but of a different kind. These new struggles lead me to question lots of things.  Who wouldn't question things when life as you know it changes in the blink of an eye?

I questioned my mortality.

I questioned my ability to do things on my own.

I questioned why he had to go and not someone else.

I questioned whether or not his love was my one great love and if I would ever get another.

I questioned why our tragedy didn't mean more to people.

I questioned why I was stuck trying to raise two kids on my own.

I questioned why I was stuck with nothing, cleaning up the mess that he left behind.

I questioned if any of this was all worth it.

     The answers certainly aren't coming easily.  For the most part, the questions are still hanging out there.  Some provoke quite a visceral reaction from me in the form of anger.  Some provoke feelings of intense anxiety.  Still others provoke feelings of anxiety.  Sometimes I wish that a few would get answered so that I would have some feelings of closure.  I'm a year and a half into this journey of the new normal, and still closure is hard to come by.

I wonder if there is a such thing as closure when it comes to this level of grief?

Performing....constantly.

     Shakespeare had it right when he wrote "All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players..." I act all the damn time.

I act as if Im ok.
I act as if it doesn't drive me completely nuts that I don't have a partner any more.
I act as if I know what I'm doing when it comes to being a single parent.
I act as if being a single person doesn't bother me.
I act as if I know what I'm doing when it comes to being a middle aged student.
I act as if not having my own space and my own stuff doesn't bother me.
I act as if being left in thousands of dollars in debt is a workable problem.
I act as if I enjoy living this life I was so abruptly thrust into.
I act as if being so fundamentally lonely I cry every day doesn't bother me.
I act as if I am 100% okay with moving forward with my life even though it scares me to death.

     I suppose to one degree or another we are all acting in some form or another.  Putting on the perfect parent front at school functions, the extrovert at parties, the quintessential hostess at family holidays...what are some of the performances you put on daily?

Surely I can't be the only one...

Overthinking

     Part of the reason that I think I feel so alone is that I overthink every little thing.  I text someone and they don't text me back right away, I think that they must be mad at me.  I perceive attitude from everyone, even if it doesn't exist.  I try and try to be a good person, but always think that if people are nice to me then they must have ulterior motives.  It's like I want to get close to people, yet push them away.  I overthink motives, statements, attitudes, delays in response, everything.  It sucks.  I live in this constant state of worry over what other people think.

Do they like me?
Are they blowing me off because I am annoying with my grief?
Why am I there for everyone and no one is there for me?
Are they mad at me?
Why can they say no to me, but when I say no, everyone gets mad?

     I know that these are mostly irrational thoughts and that more often than not, they don't apply, but sometimes I can't help it.  There are only so many times that you can be turned down for plans, or blown off, or not answered before you start to take things personally.  I can be a sensitive girl, even though I may not seem like it all the time.  I might be sarcastic and witty (or at least I think I am) but it is totally a defense mechanism so that you can't see what a mess I really am.
     There's this weird thing that happens when you lose your life partner.  You absolutely CRAVE adult human interaction.  Think about it...how many of you take for granted that you have someone to go home to or that comes home to you at night?  That knows when you've had a bad day and will do something special for you just because? Have someone that will comfort you when you are sick or emotional?  Watch the kids for you for the night so you can go out and do something for you without feeling guilty?  Us widdas don't have that.  So when you are hanging out with someone on the reg and  then....

BAM!!

Late or no returned phone calls, constantly turned down for plans (for whatever reasons, real or made up), we (or at least I) have a tendency to take it to a very weird, overthought place.  So if we (or I) get clingy, standoffish, or just downright bitchy, please excuse me.  My brain has completely gone into overdrive and until I learn how to reign it in I am in for one hell of a ride.

November 8, 2012

   To me, this date will forever be etched in my memory.  It was the first day since I was 4 years old that B would not be in my life.  He was gone.  9:42 pm my life was forever altered.

I was without a lover.
Without a best friend.
Without a father to my children.
Without my greatest cheerleader.

It's weird what your brain will let you remember about particularly traumatic events.  I remember that I was at my friends' house talking about the kids.  The phone rang and I let it go to voicemail. When I picked up the message it was B's work telling me he was taken to the hospital and it didn't look good. I remember dropping the phone, my friend putting me in the car, and her hauling ass to the hospital.  I remember going to the bad news room.  I remember my dad and step mom being there, my friend being there, and B's dad and brother being there.  I remember the chaplain (sort of). I remember getting the horrible news.  I remember going to see his body (twice).  I remember ripping the coroner's assistant a new one because he made an off color remark.  I remember giving Gift of Life permission to harvest his organs.  Then there is a whole lot of nothing.  I remember posting that he passed away, and making a few phone calls.  I vaguely remember the funeral director telling me that he wouldn't give Brian a traditional funeral because I couldn't afford it.  Then there's nothing again until I got the pictures together for the story boards for the celebration of life.  I remember vaguely people coming to the celebration, and the people that tried to save him giving me a detailed explanation of his last minutes.  Then again, a whole lot of nothing. I don't think I really start to remember anything else until about February of 2013.
     I look at pictures of me in the months following and I look like a shell of myself.  I don't remember any of the holidays that happened in 2012, even with pictures and anecdotes from others.  I  take great interest in stories anyone is willing to tell me about those few months because my brain has literally erased them from my mind.  I always wonder what would happen if this memories were suddenly released.

Would I become catatonic?
Would I cry for days?
Would the pain be so heart crushing that I would literally die of a broken heart?

Sometimes, I wish I could remember.  Then a quick memory will fly up of some time, long ago when we were happy.  A tear steals down my cheek, and I remember why I'm happy that I can't remember.

Musical memories

     Music is the universal language, or so I've been told.  Music has always been soothing for me, from the time I was a very small child.  I associate music with memories, both good and bad.  This can definitely be good, but also potentially problematic.  Just last night I was on a date and a song came on the radio that reminded me of B. A funny memory, but the tears pricked at the corners of my eyes anyway.  I had to look out the window, away from my date, and laugh it off as if he said something REALLY REALLY funny.  Awkward, party of 1? Yeah, that would be me.
     I'm also the girl who will burst out singing along to instrumental music in the elevator, put on really wierd music while I do chores, get lost in a record store (and I mean for HOURS), and can assign a specific memory to every vinyl in my collection.  I define my life periods by music, and some musical memories hit me harder than others.

Our wedding song.
The song that was playing in the car on my way to the hospital to have our first son.
The song that was playing in the car on the way to the hospital to have our second son.
The first song we ever danced to.
The song that was played at the first concert we ever went to together.
Any song by his favorite band.
Any song that is on our road trip play list.
The song that he always said he wanted to have playing at his funeral.
The song that was playing in the car on the way to the hospital when I got the news that B was dying.
The song that my best friend played for me to comfort me when I felt so lost without my soulmate.
The song that I played at his memorial service.

   Any or all of these can bring a smile to my face or bring tears of overwhelming sadness.  There are songs that I listen to now that will make my heart break into a million pieces. Even though he never heard them, and they hold no significance to our relationship, there are lines that just say everything I have been feeling since I was set adrift in this ocean of grief.  It is times like this when I am reminded of some of the best lines written about the torture of pop music:

"What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"
     -Nick Hornby, High Fidelity

Letter to my lost love

My sweetest love,
     I miss you.  I have been thinking about you a lot lately...every song on the radio has a meaning, every time I get in the car and drive past somewhere where we went together I get flashes of happy memories, and my eyes well up with tears. My heart feels like it is breaking every. single. day.  There are so many things going on I'm my life that I want to be able to talk to you about.  School is going awesome and I should graduate next spring.  I wish you were here to guide me on my next steps.  I don't know where to go next, what to specialize in...my mind is going in a million different directions and you were always the one who could help me break it down and decide.  We could have conversations that were never one sided..you never told me what to do, but helped me to make a decision that was best for me. For us. For the family.
     We just passed a year and a half that you've been gone.  I'm no closer to filling the B shaped hole in my heart than I was in the minutes after you passed.  I still get asked how we met and when I relay the roundabout way we wound up together, everyone agrees with me that we had an amazingly great love.  I feel blessed every single second of every single day that we got the time that we did have.  I know that our souls are meant to be together, and one day, they will be.  You're never far away from me...I sometimes hear your laugh when I do something silly or see your mischievous smile on the faces of the boys.
     By the end of the summer I should be in my very own place with the boys.  They are excited about it.  Especially Derek.  You would be so proud of him and the man he is becoming.  We are still having a little bit of trouble with school, but I went all mama bear on some administrators today, so that should get fixed right away.  He just started baseball, and has been practicing so hard.  His coaches are great, and are encouraging him to practice switch hitting.  The kids are encouraging, and his self confidence is improving with every practice.  I wish you were here to help teach him mechanics...I am doing my best, but I don't really think it is the same.  I see the look on his face when he sees the other kids playing catch with their dads, and I wish I could fix that hurt for him.  He doesn't really talk about it, but I know it gets to him.  He is already signed up for summer camp with scouts, and is signing up for Y camp for two weeks as well.  He was talking about going to art camp also...he really has his heart set on keeping himself busy this summer.  He talks about you fondly, and often.  Now his questions are more along the lines of what you liked and if he likes the same things that you liked.  What position you played when you played baseball. What position you played when you played football. What kind of video games you liked to play. What you liked to draw, what your favorite food was, what you were like when you were his age...the questions are fun to answer, yet heart wrenching.
     Logan is becoming quite challenging.  He is 100% boy...filthy and busy and mischievous and loud.    He is doing great in school!  The other day he decided he was going to color you a picture and he wrote his name on it...I keep it with my school stuff and when we come and visit your place, I was going to send it up for you.  Logan dreams about you ALL THE TIME.  He will wake up and run into  my room and tell me all about how he was flying with you and you said hi and that you loved him and you took a rocket ship up to the sky together.  And that you tell him to tell Derek and I that you love us.  I know he won't remember these dreams, but I know that right now, they mean the world to him.  He goes through all of our pictures from the wedding telling me how beautiful I am and points you out in every single picture.  Every picture we have of you around the house he points you out by name in.  I wish you would have had more time to be able to spend with him...he is turning in to quite the amazing little man. He is so excited about being old enough to play sports this year! He is going to miss baseball because of vacation but is already talking about soccer and football. I sure as heck hope I can keep up.  His energy is super taxing, but also contagious.  It breaks my heart knowing that you are not here to be able to experience all of his milestones with me.
     You were such a big part of our lives and now even though it might not look like it from the outside, it affects us.  It affects the way we all socialize, the way all function together as a family unit,  the way we interact with other families.  I try to talk to other complete families, but it doesn't work.  I get shy, and I hate explaining and apologizing for our situation.  I won't go to parties where there will be mostly couples or couples with their kids.  I try to keep my head up during mother's day and father's day, but my heart just isn't in it any more.  My world just isn't as bright without you in it.  My dreams have lost their luster, my sun has lost it's shine, my rose-colored glasses are a little less rosy.  You were my perfect balance; the dark to my light, the quiet to my loud, and the calm to my crazy. I'm a better person for you having loved me, and the mark you made on my heart will last forever.

I love you always and all ways, my sweet; without wax.

Kids are okay...

     Kids. I always wanted them. Always wanted to me a mom.  I always wanted two, girls, boys, mix of the two, it didn't matter.  When B and I got together, I knew that he was the man that I wanted to be the father of my kids.  We had the same parenting ideals, wanted the same number of kids, wanted to start a family right away. He was such a gentle soul and an amazing father. My oldest got to have 10 amazing years with him, the youngest only 3. Every day I look at them and wonder what their lives are like now without a dad.

Does it bother them that he isn't here to teach them things?
Does it hurt them that they only have one parent and not two?
What are the things that dads teach their sons when their moms aren't around?
How will I teach them how to shave?
How will I teach them how to tie a tie?
How will I teach them how to be men?

Apparently, though, the kids are adjusting quite well. The oldest has peer groups at school.  Going to school dances. Playing baseball.  Doing extra curricular activities. Getting good grades. Going on overnight hiking and camping trips with his friends and fellow boy scouts.  Going rock climbing with friends from school.  Picking dates that he wants to go away to camp.  Smiling and laughing and only talking about his dad is positive remembering ways, not sad ones.  The little one is eagerly awaiting his summer vacation with his grandparents. Playing baseball in the yard with his big brother.  Learning how to read and write his name.  Getting excited to be able to play team sports for the first time.  Making friends at school.  Getting invited to birthday parties.

I've been told that kids are remarkably resilient.  I sure hope so.  If my kids can go through something like this and come out of it fairly unscathed, then I would say that it is the best kind of resilient in the WORLD.