Pi Time

My fundraising for school is going well. I'm at the halfway point and hope to leave in about 3 weeks.
I'll have more to say on that later.

Tomorrow morning I again do my best to contact DES and have a long appointment with my Hospice counselor to talk about some of my issues leaving for Israel, leaving Wash/TARDIS "home", leaving my sweet kitties...
It's a lot.
Aelphie has been my animal companion since I lived alone as an adult. I know she is getting older, she has some grey now on her, but I still see her as my little girl. It's hard for me to think of being away from her comfort for the summer. It's hard for me to think of what she might be feeling while I am gone. To them, Wash was here and then he was gone. I don't know how to explain to them I'm coming back.
Leto, well, he's my baby boy. He is the last living connection to my husband I have. I'll never have his children, but we had Leto. He had Leto. And Leto lost his dad. The human he loved most. Now I'll be leaving him too. I'm coming back, but how will they know?

It's hard to think about. I can't help but cry. When I was so alone, the house empty but me, my family all busy with their own lives, my friends not close enough to comfort, or not able to be there... my cats were there for me. They let me hold them for hours while I just sobbed. They purred in my lap. They slept in the bed, making it feel less empty- less alone.

I'll be without them.

And I want this. I want this chance. I need to do this. I need to go.

But it hurts.
It hurts to not know. It hurts to know I will be so far away, without my support, without the few living things that love me around. I know Wash would want me to go. I know.

I'm afraid of something happening and I cannot be there.

I've been trying to work on a "normal" or regular sleep schedule, but the stress is making it hard. So much to do, but no real routine to help me function to do it.
I've been able to catch 03:14 on the clock every 12 hours for the last full week or two.
I see it and I say "Happy 3:14" or "Happy Pi minute my Love". Wash made a point for as long as he could remember to, to tell me that everyday- at 3:14(am/pm).
"This way, every single day can be our anniversary."

I miss him. I miss his voice. I miss his hugs. I miss his love. I miss his jokes- all of them, I miss him telling the stories he told over and over.
I'm not good at saying "Good-bye". I'm not. I don't think I ever will be.
So leaving is hard. Knowing it will be months before I see my friends again. My family. Being around people who love me, or my pets who do.


I apologize if this is incoherent. I am mostly just sobbing and crying tonight.

It has been a while since I have had the flashbacks, since they were uncontrolled. They are coming again. That night, over and over. The day he went into the hospital, over and over. The months of warning signs all flashing before me. The questions, always plaguing, 'Could I have done more?' 'What if?' 'Did I do everything I could have?'

The biggest one. The most evil. The one that never really fades, or really goes quiet.
"Was there a chance I could have saved him? Was there a way to avoid his cancer? Why did I not see it so much sooner? How much of this pain is mine to bear?"

The question that I will never really be able to answer; "What happens now?"

I never thought I would be a Widow this young. I'm angry, because when we got engaged, he promised- swore he would let me die first. I know it's not exactly something he could really promise, but I hate it all the same. I hate the loss. I hate the Silence now. I hate how empty my bed feels. I hate having to cook for one, not two. I hate that I am entombed with his things, his life, but not him. 
I miss being held by my husband. I miss my best friend. I miss him so much. It is more than a void, it is my own self, my own soul, broken in half and gone. Not missing, gone. Not lost, gone.
He made me better, and left.
He left me.

That hurts. "Pain" is not a comprehensive enough word for this. English has no real word for the feeling of desertion by way of grief.
I miss having a reason to smile. Something to be happy about. Someone.



There is no potion. No drug. Nothing instantaneous. No wave of a wand, or hat-trick.
Time does not ease the pain, the hurt. My wound may not bleed as much now, but time makes it grow deeper, makes it into a keloid scar- ever growing, not healing.


I was stronger with him. Better.
I just feel so small and helpless right now.
I am so very tired. I feel I should be nearing the end of my life, not the start of my adulthood.
I've lived so much already.


I miss my Love. I miss our Love. I miss being loved.

I miss being loved.

John Johnson

I am lonely/
It's really hard/
This poem...
sucks.

Android Sheep

Another bad night for me.
Adjusting to Widowhood is not easy. For every reason.

I am sad and missing my husband, my late husband, very much.

I will not be shamed about my choice to be more open and public with my grief.
It is far too stigmatized and misunderstood as is, despite almost all the human population feeling it at some point in their life, or several.

Did I laugh today? Yes.

Am I still sad to be going to bed alone tonight, without the person who should be there? Yes.

Grief is complicated, and unique to every person.
This is mine.

I went grocery shopping today.
I cleaned. Did dishes. Took care of laundry and my cats.
I also spent a half hour sobbing on my kitchen floor. Later on, more tears with a pillow.

There have been more functional days, and days where I've started to have more intense emotions, often overwhelming.

It is a mix every time I wake if I think I'm still dreaming, or if I recall right away that he is gone.

He is my husband. He was my late husband.
Such difference in emotion in those phrases, what information it conveys.

I see time like I never have before.

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.

Before/ After

Every time today a commercial has come on for gardening etc I've almost started to cry. Going through the photos is so gorram hard.

This is one of the best shots I have of the complete raised garden BEFORE (I have plenty of others showing off all my plants and backyard)

And of what my "raized" garden looks like NOW.

All of my work, all of Wash's, all of our love and nurture for things to grow... just gone.