I spent a lot of today sobbing. Mostly from the mid-morning on.
My eyes hurt.
It's just one of those days where I miss him in every little way, and I'm reminded, over and over. I can't not think about it.
I'm going to try to do something good tomorrow.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Monday, December 24, 2012
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Find You
I have been trying to hold on to the good hours, moments, or even a day at a time now. I'm getting better at it, to a degree.
I made it through Hannukah, and had a really nice Shabbos this past week with my cousin cooking and singing.
As it gets closer to Christmas though, I keep thinking about the few we had together. All the ones we had imagined we would have in the future.
How much I suspected but dreaded that last year might have been his last Christmas and winter holidays with me; and how true it was.
I keep trying to remember the happy moments. How the awesome folks at ThinkGeek were to send him/us those gifts; they gave us his last Christmas.
I've been thinking about them lately, how kind they were to him, and us. My grief takes my words now sometimes, so I cannot figure out how to describe how thankful I am to them. Still.
His last one was a happy one.
I take comfort in that, though it still brings me to tears.
The house seems so much more lonely. I have been keeping the television on downstairs because just hearing a bit of extra noise makes me feel a bit better right now.
I took down the inflatable (twin) guest bed, and Leto is not happy about that. Somehow in the last few months he has outgrown the catbed I bought a bit ago for him. It is comically small compared to him even when he sleeps in the smallest ball he can. He's been sleeping on the guest bed at times over the last few weeks and I believe seems to have thought that was his new bed.
He lies down in the same spot in the room and will squeak at me.
He has been giving me a lot of comfort these past days/weeks.
He feels like a part of Wash that is still living.
The house gets emptier. Boxes to go out to be mailed to friends, or donated. Still so much more to go through. I manage so far to get through it in spurts.
It's putting me back in that state of shock I felt shortly after his passing; these holidays.
My mind hurts and numbs at the thought of waking up Christmas Eve and Christmas Day without him next to me.
No making coffee or special breakfasts. My family is suddenly so much smaller, that my mind just denies the idea of a "family" gathering without him. I keep trying, but the very act of just trying to imagine what that day will hold, what I would say, do, feel; becomes so overwhelming my brain just tells me it is not true.
I fear being around people who are happy at this time. I fear being the one to "bring them down". To be the reminder now of mortality. To have any of my true emotions come through, to still grieve, while others might be trying to celebrate. So many fears.
My brain says "Would it not be better for everyone else to just stay at home, out of sight and mind so others can have their normality?"
I do not know the answer.
I know there is something to make me smile that day; a nice surprise sent by friends. I will find out in two days.
It is a small thing, but I have a bit of Hope that after the New Year I will have the intense bereavement tide down, with less reminders of the big life events not to happen.
How has a year passed already?
How is it that it will be four months in a few weeks since he passed?
Time seems to be more bendy for me lately.
It passes fast, it creeps by, it stalls.
I've gone from living the last three years of my life in the moment, day to day; never knowing when might be his last with me. Never really being able to have any sort of long term plan; at all.
Now, I have to go back, so far back, and start again.
I am so tired.
So uncertain and scared.
I barely recall what it is like to wake up alone these days, end of December.
Mostly cold.
Full of longing.
I dislike night-time of late.
I made it through Hannukah, and had a really nice Shabbos this past week with my cousin cooking and singing.
As it gets closer to Christmas though, I keep thinking about the few we had together. All the ones we had imagined we would have in the future.
How much I suspected but dreaded that last year might have been his last Christmas and winter holidays with me; and how true it was.
I keep trying to remember the happy moments. How the awesome folks at ThinkGeek were to send him/us those gifts; they gave us his last Christmas.
I've been thinking about them lately, how kind they were to him, and us. My grief takes my words now sometimes, so I cannot figure out how to describe how thankful I am to them. Still.
His last one was a happy one.
I take comfort in that, though it still brings me to tears.
The house seems so much more lonely. I have been keeping the television on downstairs because just hearing a bit of extra noise makes me feel a bit better right now.
I took down the inflatable (twin) guest bed, and Leto is not happy about that. Somehow in the last few months he has outgrown the catbed I bought a bit ago for him. It is comically small compared to him even when he sleeps in the smallest ball he can. He's been sleeping on the guest bed at times over the last few weeks and I believe seems to have thought that was his new bed.
He lies down in the same spot in the room and will squeak at me.
He has been giving me a lot of comfort these past days/weeks.
He feels like a part of Wash that is still living.
The house gets emptier. Boxes to go out to be mailed to friends, or donated. Still so much more to go through. I manage so far to get through it in spurts.
It's putting me back in that state of shock I felt shortly after his passing; these holidays.
My mind hurts and numbs at the thought of waking up Christmas Eve and Christmas Day without him next to me.
No making coffee or special breakfasts. My family is suddenly so much smaller, that my mind just denies the idea of a "family" gathering without him. I keep trying, but the very act of just trying to imagine what that day will hold, what I would say, do, feel; becomes so overwhelming my brain just tells me it is not true.
I fear being around people who are happy at this time. I fear being the one to "bring them down". To be the reminder now of mortality. To have any of my true emotions come through, to still grieve, while others might be trying to celebrate. So many fears.
My brain says "Would it not be better for everyone else to just stay at home, out of sight and mind so others can have their normality?"
I do not know the answer.
I know there is something to make me smile that day; a nice surprise sent by friends. I will find out in two days.
It is a small thing, but I have a bit of Hope that after the New Year I will have the intense bereavement tide down, with less reminders of the big life events not to happen.
How has a year passed already?
How is it that it will be four months in a few weeks since he passed?
Time seems to be more bendy for me lately.
It passes fast, it creeps by, it stalls.
I've gone from living the last three years of my life in the moment, day to day; never knowing when might be his last with me. Never really being able to have any sort of long term plan; at all.
Now, I have to go back, so far back, and start again.
I am so tired.
So uncertain and scared.
I barely recall what it is like to wake up alone these days, end of December.
Mostly cold.
Full of longing.
I dislike night-time of late.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
To Teas
I've had a lot of emotions going around inside myself lately.
It is odd; this mixture of feelings I am having. So very lonely at nights, when I should have my love and his warmth next to me.
Twitching at the Silence inside the house, only the cats and artificial sounds abound.
Enjoying the small moments of having both cats cuddling with me. When friends come to visit. Trying to find myself again in whatever way I am strong enough for.
Steps forward and back.
I'm finding it easier on some days to just put on a mask and lie (I consider it lying, at least) and smile and nod and say "I'm fine. I'm doing ok. Let's talk about _________."
Some days, it is not a lie, and I can care. I do care about my friends and their lives.
Some days, it is hard to smile to see someone I love celebrating what I lost or never will have.
I am doing best to move at my own pace. There are some influences in my life (no comments needed, please) that think due to some reason... (age? length of marriage? ??) I should be doing certain things by now, taking certain "steps", walking a certain path.
That's not really what I feel entirely though.
I might have been following a trail once, but it veered very much off the track. I might have been following steps of others who had their trails veer from the paved, smooth road, but it had long since been covered up by circumstances.
Bush-whacking? Is that the term? Trail-blazing?
Some days the walking is easier; the ground level, the air dry and wind calm.
Some days... headway can be measured in inches or centimetres not miles/kilometres.
I get overwhelmed still, so often. At some predictable things I am learning to avoid until I can learn to deal with it. Surprises however can not be that entirely prepared for. I can prep as much as I have learned in my life, but there might still come up some new problem to solve that my wits and skills alone cannot win.
Those days are the ones I fear lately.
A lot of it with the holidays, a lot of it with memories of sadness at holidays past.
Thank you to everyone who has been sending me holiday cards. They do help.
I still have not quite figured out what to do for Christmas eve or day next week.
I am starting to become functional in some ways, but mentally, it is so hard to just make a decision. There are always variables to consider and I am compelled to consider them all.
I miss company as well though. I miss companionship. I miss watching a movie in the evening after dinner with someone, talking maybe even laughing, and going to bed warm, touching the person I love who loves me. I miss the sounds around the house; doors closing. Kitchen sounds. Talking and laughter. My own laugh often sounds so odd to me now, though it does come more often.
I try to be thankful for those who loved us and helped us throughout the years, especially around the holiday times. But, that puts me in the past; such bittersweet memories.
At what point I wonder, does it hurt less to remember? Does it ever?
Perhaps like all grief, it truly varies from one person to the other.
Some times it is the most simple of actions, the littlest of things.
Someone to bring me tea in the morning.
Hugs. On a daily basis. More than once a day even.
Kissing.
Having my hair stroked by him. The way he sometimes would wrap his fingers in it as he slept, keeping close to me.
Hearing my name.
Being told "I love you". Knowing it is meant when it is said.
The world does go on, yes.
My friend put it very well in some correspondence with me:
"Making friends as a young adult, the way we mostly do it, is easy. Most people have coworkers or fellow students, so their friends are handed to them on a platter. You've got a triple-whammy situation happening, in that you're much older than other people your age (not just because of Wash; I think you started out that way), you're not in school or working some crappy job, and you've seen a whole lot more than most folks do in a lifetime.
It is odd; this mixture of feelings I am having. So very lonely at nights, when I should have my love and his warmth next to me.
Twitching at the Silence inside the house, only the cats and artificial sounds abound.
Enjoying the small moments of having both cats cuddling with me. When friends come to visit. Trying to find myself again in whatever way I am strong enough for.
Steps forward and back.
I'm finding it easier on some days to just put on a mask and lie (I consider it lying, at least) and smile and nod and say "I'm fine. I'm doing ok. Let's talk about _________."
Some days, it is not a lie, and I can care. I do care about my friends and their lives.
Some days, it is hard to smile to see someone I love celebrating what I lost or never will have.
I am doing best to move at my own pace. There are some influences in my life (no comments needed, please) that think due to some reason... (age? length of marriage? ??) I should be doing certain things by now, taking certain "steps", walking a certain path.
That's not really what I feel entirely though.
I might have been following a trail once, but it veered very much off the track. I might have been following steps of others who had their trails veer from the paved, smooth road, but it had long since been covered up by circumstances.
Bush-whacking? Is that the term? Trail-blazing?
Some days the walking is easier; the ground level, the air dry and wind calm.
Some days... headway can be measured in inches or centimetres not miles/kilometres.
I get overwhelmed still, so often. At some predictable things I am learning to avoid until I can learn to deal with it. Surprises however can not be that entirely prepared for. I can prep as much as I have learned in my life, but there might still come up some new problem to solve that my wits and skills alone cannot win.
Those days are the ones I fear lately.
A lot of it with the holidays, a lot of it with memories of sadness at holidays past.
Thank you to everyone who has been sending me holiday cards. They do help.
I still have not quite figured out what to do for Christmas eve or day next week.
I am starting to become functional in some ways, but mentally, it is so hard to just make a decision. There are always variables to consider and I am compelled to consider them all.
I miss company as well though. I miss companionship. I miss watching a movie in the evening after dinner with someone, talking maybe even laughing, and going to bed warm, touching the person I love who loves me. I miss the sounds around the house; doors closing. Kitchen sounds. Talking and laughter. My own laugh often sounds so odd to me now, though it does come more often.
I try to be thankful for those who loved us and helped us throughout the years, especially around the holiday times. But, that puts me in the past; such bittersweet memories.
At what point I wonder, does it hurt less to remember? Does it ever?
Perhaps like all grief, it truly varies from one person to the other.
Some times it is the most simple of actions, the littlest of things.
Someone to bring me tea in the morning.
Hugs. On a daily basis. More than once a day even.
Kissing.
Having my hair stroked by him. The way he sometimes would wrap his fingers in it as he slept, keeping close to me.
Hearing my name.
Being told "I love you". Knowing it is meant when it is said.
The world does go on, yes.
My friend put it very well in some correspondence with me:
"Making friends as a young adult, the way we mostly do it, is easy. Most people have coworkers or fellow students, so their friends are handed to them on a platter. You've got a triple-whammy situation happening, in that you're much older than other people your age (not just because of Wash; I think you started out that way), you're not in school or working some crappy job, and you've seen a whole lot more than most folks do in a lifetime.
There is no way to overcome those barriers that does not disrespect what you've done and who Wash was, so I won't even suggest that you not talk about him or hide what happened.
You must not allow this to make you brittle. You *must* not. Even in the worst moments while Wash was dying, you reached out to other people and were beautifully flexible and loving. Most people don't manage that in a happy life.
That said. . .these next few months will hurt. I wish there were a way around that, but there's not. You've essentially lived a life already, at 26, that most people don't have until they're 80. Now you have to go through birthing pains again, to be Tashi. It's going to suck, and it's going to feel hopeless at times, and there will be moments when you're glad for the absence of feeling, as opposed to actual pain. You'll end up as Tashi at the end of it, but you'll wonder sometimes if it was worth the price."
I do expect pain. I do expect more misunderstandings, and more patience needed on my part and every one around me. I don't expect it to be perfect or happy, or even an end. Life only ended for him, not me. I somehow how to keep more than breathing, to keep working to find myself again, who I am now, re-defined.
Without him as an 'active' part of me. Only part of my history and my shaping as a human. As the person who taught me what "unconditional love" meant on my own part; not just others'.
The long journey really begins now. We've done the Kilimanjaro of brain surgeries, the Rockies of chemo and radiation over and over month after month, and now I am left alone to go up Everest.
The Hope in the allegory being he trained me to do this. I have to trust myself.
That is the next step.
If doing this helps the next ones to follow in our path, perhaps my pain will mean something.
I have to Hope. Some days that is all that is left.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Friday, December 14, 2012
There, and Back Again
[Yes, it says "Senior". I grabbed my mum's ticket stub instead of mine. 11:06 am is the time on Thursday we joined the queue; 4th and 5th place in line. Until 9 hours later when 12 or more queue jumpers skipped place and went to the front. There was more than just me pissed off at a dozen people literally skipping the HOURS we all waited patiently in line, to get in the theatre first. Different rant.]
I'll be back after I've slept some. It's been about 3 days on maybe 10 hours of sleep total. At some point, my body has to give out and let me sleep, right? Worst case, I don't sleep through Monday when I see my doc next, and maybe I can get something different to help me at night.
Oh, and I counted 7 endings for this one, Jackson. I mean, Really?!
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Sunday, December 9, 2012
One Day
Thank you to everyone who was able to make it out yesterday to remember the *life* and the love of Kevin.
Thank you to everyone who could not be there, but held him in your own light.
Thank you for helping me remember his spirit, not his cancer.
Thank you.
Thank you to everyone who could not be there, but held him in your own light.
Thank you for helping me remember his spirit, not his cancer.
Thank you.
Thank you as well to my friends for helping me to not be alone to kindle the first light of Hannukah last night. This is the photo I have of Wash's last Hannukah in 2011. He always loved that holiday.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Mobius
I say "goodbye" today.
I celebrate the life he did lead today.
I gather with friends today, and family.
It will not be the same, but there will be love.
I celebrate the life he did lead today.
I gather with friends today, and family.
It will not be the same, but there will be love.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Midnight worries
I worry about what the cost of his (willed) cremation will really end up costing me. I had to pay upfront for it, and I still have not received any benefit money from Social Security.
I worry about the memorial.
I worry about rent, and other things, little and big.
I worry about how I will feel when more of his things are gone after this weekend when they are taken home by the people he wanted them to go to.
I worry I might enjoy having more space, and a chance to start to put the house the way I want.
I worry if I enjoy it, it means I am not missing him as I 'should'.
I worry about the week, and once my friends leave and my family too (temporary though it is) how lonely I will feel.
I worry about trying to find the right words for Saturday.
I worry about paperwork with DES and for my insurance.
I worry a lot about being poor.
I worry about my debts, and my husbands, and how they might effect me when I decide to go back to a school. I worry about working so hard, paying taxes, and still having to file for medical bankruptcy next year; depend on what the lawyer says.
I worry about the holidays, and feeling alone without him.
I worry about how much pain my heart hurts for this time right now; living alone for the first few years was a choice I made on my own. Living alone now is not by either of our wish.
I worry about waking up Christmas morning in a cold, empty, quiet house.
I worry about having no one to celebrate Hannukah with. I remember Wash working so hard to learn the Hebew prayers.
I worry about saying good-bye to him in a symbolic and final way.
I worry so much about my life is both the same and so unstructured; yet I'm not ready to change myself yet.
I worry about trying to communicate with the ones around me, and either not saying something that can be understood; or saying the wrong thing altogether.
I worry about how many people I will still have in my life next year.
I worry it is not acceptable to find moments to try to laugh.
I worry it is not acceptable if I don't laugh "more" now.
I worry about how confused I am that all I'm hearing is contradictions around me; specific advice on what to do at "this point"; specific advice to listen to no advice but my own wants.
I worry about the memories to come this week and month.
I worry about facing everything.
I worry so much about what will come next.
I worry how confused I am to feel so aged and mature, and so scared and young at the same time.
I worry how much I might forget about him.
Always worries.
Sometimes saying them lets them go. Sometimes not.
I worry about the memorial.
I worry about rent, and other things, little and big.
I worry about how I will feel when more of his things are gone after this weekend when they are taken home by the people he wanted them to go to.
I worry I might enjoy having more space, and a chance to start to put the house the way I want.
I worry if I enjoy it, it means I am not missing him as I 'should'.
I worry about the week, and once my friends leave and my family too (temporary though it is) how lonely I will feel.
I worry about trying to find the right words for Saturday.
I worry about paperwork with DES and for my insurance.
I worry a lot about being poor.
I worry about my debts, and my husbands, and how they might effect me when I decide to go back to a school. I worry about working so hard, paying taxes, and still having to file for medical bankruptcy next year; depend on what the lawyer says.
I worry about the holidays, and feeling alone without him.
I worry about how much pain my heart hurts for this time right now; living alone for the first few years was a choice I made on my own. Living alone now is not by either of our wish.
I worry about waking up Christmas morning in a cold, empty, quiet house.
I worry about having no one to celebrate Hannukah with. I remember Wash working so hard to learn the Hebew prayers.
I worry about saying good-bye to him in a symbolic and final way.
I worry so much about my life is both the same and so unstructured; yet I'm not ready to change myself yet.
I worry about trying to communicate with the ones around me, and either not saying something that can be understood; or saying the wrong thing altogether.
I worry about how many people I will still have in my life next year.
I worry it is not acceptable to find moments to try to laugh.
I worry it is not acceptable if I don't laugh "more" now.
I worry about how confused I am that all I'm hearing is contradictions around me; specific advice on what to do at "this point"; specific advice to listen to no advice but my own wants.
I worry about the memories to come this week and month.
I worry about facing everything.
I worry so much about what will come next.
I worry how confused I am to feel so aged and mature, and so scared and young at the same time.
I worry how much I might forget about him.
Always worries.
Sometimes saying them lets them go. Sometimes not.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Brave (2)
I tried to fall back asleep this morning. No go.
It's one week til Wash's memorial.
I'm not doing well.
There are so many things going on all at the same time. I feel I am coming untethered.
I am terrified of trying to write something about him with that level of finality. I was not afford the luxury of denial like others around him were.
This is, certain.
Final.
It breaks what is left of my heart.
The cats keep me company in the bed most nights. Either Aelphie takes her place by my feet, or Leto comes over and sleeps on top of me. The tend to switch off.
I wake up everyday with this sense of "wrong". Something is off. Not as it should be.
I remember how we used to fall asleep together. How we would cuddle. How some nights it would be me holding him until he fell asleep, and a long long time ago, he used to hold me.
I remember the first winter we had together; he was working night-shift and in school. We hardly ever saw each other during the week. Except for 30 minutes in the mornings when he would come home from work, waking me up to the smell of coffee, which he'd always bring me a fresh cup.
He'd climb into bed and for 30 minutes the world did not exist. It was just us. Our time.
I miss the spot I'd kiss behind his ear, right above his neck.
I miss his smell. I miss that so much.
I miss his comfort.
I've had people, strangers and friends tell me how "brave" I've been. I thank them, but I don't understand it at all.
Is it really "brave" when there is only one direction to go? One way to move?
I have to go on, because what else can I really do? I don't see other choices, options.
I am happy to have friends coming in to help me say "goodbye" to him.
I know that lives don't stop. Well, only mine, and to a literal degree, him.
I miss the normalcy.
I miss Family Tuesday Dinners. Those started long before Wash, and it was the one day a week I knew I could see someone who knew my name, who would hug me, where I could just be me.
Those stopped.
I can understand. It's painful. Too busy. Out of town.
I am left though, with this feeling of being attached to nothing. I feel this greater distance with my own family than I have ever known.
Quite like a balloon. I had been tied for so many years, able to float out a bit, and now, un-cut, I am loose. I am going higher and farther than ever before. Than I ever imagined there to be.
The problem though, is the inevitable.
Balloons don't stay up forever. We all know.
Eventually, they pop. They burst, high and in a different place.
More and more I keep wondering why I am still here, in this place. What besides him was keeping me here?
I wonder if this is temporary, or if I have lost hope for Arizona?
I am scared for another reason. Well, many. I've been scared a long time, it's just easier to ignore the fears when there is someone else who needs comfort.
I wish I had known how few choices I would have had, before.
This will by my first Hannukah alone. My parents leave again the day after Wash's service.
At this point, I no longer even see a point in putting up my yearly little tree. I love the lights, but, it feels like I already know I'll be alone at the end of the month.
This is part of it. Everyone moves on. It's been almost 3 months! I mean, sure, he was my husband and the person I was intending to spend my life with, have children with, move with, be happy with, and my best friend. But, no, yeah, under 3 months is fine. Move on. Do we just stop saying his name next year?
I really am upset no one gave me this time-table for "acceptable" grief ahead of time.
I'm still back in the days of Judith Martin, apparently.
I'm guessing since this 'new' timeline for grief is something I'm really not familiar with; being of the impression I could go at my own emotional speed, could someone send me a link?
That last part was a bit sarcastic.
I cried myself to sleep this morning trying so hard to remember if I held him til he fell asleep that Saturday night. I cannot remember. I know I was with him, I was next to him, but I can't even remember if I held him.
I am scared of next week. I'm scared of who might show up. I'm scared my anger towards some people and how they acted towards Wash will not have passed fully if I see them. I'm scared that I cannot yet say that,
"I forgive you for hurting him so much while he was dying."
I was hurt too, to be sure. In a heinous and vicious way. But, people have hated me for a long time. I'm kind of used to it.
I know what was done to him, though.
I know exactly how many nights he cried himself to sleep over this.
I know how many tears, how much pain, and worse, how he could not even understand it. Part of that was the cancer, but a bigger part was just the shock and the pain of who it was coming from.
So much pain and sadness.
How do I say good-bye to my best friend?
The person I loved heart, body, mind, past and future.
I wish, I wish I knew.
It's one week til Wash's memorial.
I'm not doing well.
There are so many things going on all at the same time. I feel I am coming untethered.
I am terrified of trying to write something about him with that level of finality. I was not afford the luxury of denial like others around him were.
This is, certain.
Final.
It breaks what is left of my heart.
The cats keep me company in the bed most nights. Either Aelphie takes her place by my feet, or Leto comes over and sleeps on top of me. The tend to switch off.
I wake up everyday with this sense of "wrong". Something is off. Not as it should be.
I remember how we used to fall asleep together. How we would cuddle. How some nights it would be me holding him until he fell asleep, and a long long time ago, he used to hold me.
I remember the first winter we had together; he was working night-shift and in school. We hardly ever saw each other during the week. Except for 30 minutes in the mornings when he would come home from work, waking me up to the smell of coffee, which he'd always bring me a fresh cup.
He'd climb into bed and for 30 minutes the world did not exist. It was just us. Our time.
I miss the spot I'd kiss behind his ear, right above his neck.
I miss his smell. I miss that so much.
I miss his comfort.
I've had people, strangers and friends tell me how "brave" I've been. I thank them, but I don't understand it at all.
Is it really "brave" when there is only one direction to go? One way to move?
I have to go on, because what else can I really do? I don't see other choices, options.
I am happy to have friends coming in to help me say "goodbye" to him.
I know that lives don't stop. Well, only mine, and to a literal degree, him.
I miss the normalcy.
I miss Family Tuesday Dinners. Those started long before Wash, and it was the one day a week I knew I could see someone who knew my name, who would hug me, where I could just be me.
Those stopped.
I can understand. It's painful. Too busy. Out of town.
I am left though, with this feeling of being attached to nothing. I feel this greater distance with my own family than I have ever known.
Quite like a balloon. I had been tied for so many years, able to float out a bit, and now, un-cut, I am loose. I am going higher and farther than ever before. Than I ever imagined there to be.
The problem though, is the inevitable.
Balloons don't stay up forever. We all know.
Eventually, they pop. They burst, high and in a different place.
More and more I keep wondering why I am still here, in this place. What besides him was keeping me here?
I wonder if this is temporary, or if I have lost hope for Arizona?
I am scared for another reason. Well, many. I've been scared a long time, it's just easier to ignore the fears when there is someone else who needs comfort.
I wish I had known how few choices I would have had, before.
This will by my first Hannukah alone. My parents leave again the day after Wash's service.
At this point, I no longer even see a point in putting up my yearly little tree. I love the lights, but, it feels like I already know I'll be alone at the end of the month.
This is part of it. Everyone moves on. It's been almost 3 months! I mean, sure, he was my husband and the person I was intending to spend my life with, have children with, move with, be happy with, and my best friend. But, no, yeah, under 3 months is fine. Move on. Do we just stop saying his name next year?
I really am upset no one gave me this time-table for "acceptable" grief ahead of time.
I'm still back in the days of Judith Martin, apparently.
I'm guessing since this 'new' timeline for grief is something I'm really not familiar with; being of the impression I could go at my own emotional speed, could someone send me a link?
That last part was a bit sarcastic.
I cried myself to sleep this morning trying so hard to remember if I held him til he fell asleep that Saturday night. I cannot remember. I know I was with him, I was next to him, but I can't even remember if I held him.
I am scared of next week. I'm scared of who might show up. I'm scared my anger towards some people and how they acted towards Wash will not have passed fully if I see them. I'm scared that I cannot yet say that,
"I forgive you for hurting him so much while he was dying."
I was hurt too, to be sure. In a heinous and vicious way. But, people have hated me for a long time. I'm kind of used to it.
I know what was done to him, though.
I know exactly how many nights he cried himself to sleep over this.
I know how many tears, how much pain, and worse, how he could not even understand it. Part of that was the cancer, but a bigger part was just the shock and the pain of who it was coming from.
So much pain and sadness.
How do I say good-bye to my best friend?
The person I loved heart, body, mind, past and future.
I wish, I wish I knew.
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