Vague

I woke up this morning feeling weird and off. Neither cat slept with me; Leto enjoys his "perch" of the cat-bed on top of the laundry hamper.
The work comes along, slowly.

I ran into my landlord's father the other day while I was taking out the trash. English is perhaps is 3rd language, but he came over and gave me a hug and said he hoped I was well and they loved me as a tenant, and loved my backyard garden, and they (his wife and his kid, my landlord) missed Wash; he was a good person.
It was a nice reminder and good to hear.

My neighbours behind me have taken up on my style and have put up solar lights exactly like mine in their backyard and hanging from their shade/covering. I take it as flattery; my place looks lovely in the evening, and they must have appreciated it.

I had to take today off of really sorting or organizing. After doing the bedroom yesterday; perhaps the most emotional thing, it was a bit much.
Also a shirt of his I found at the bottom of the hamper under the canvas liner. I thought I had emptied the hamper months ago, but that shirt escaped me.
The pillows only faintly smell of him now, but that shirt was like the scent right around his collarbone, the smell I chase in my dreams. The smell that reminds me that when I wake if I keep my eyes closed I can pretend for a second or two longer he is not gone. That one.
It's only been a little bit of sobbing today. Thankfully. Nothing keening or racking.


There is an oddness and stillness within the house. I have to say house, because it does not feel correct to say "home". I've lived here longer than any other place as an adult, but without Wash, it just does not feel like a home. Home ceased being singular to myself (and Aelphie to a degree) when we got engaged and moved in together. I knew many many years ago that with the way I live and prefer to live, and can function... it is not something that is really compatible with the way the vast majority of people prefer to live. I lived on my own, by myself since I was 17. I moved in with Wash right around my 22nd birthday. He was the first person I ever could see myself or could consider moving in with. He accepted me, completely and totally. We had our growing pains the first couple of months, myself getting used to living with someone else; even thankfully under the fulfilled condition I laid out of needing a place with two bathrooms. He had always lived with other people. Wash was an extrovert and someone that I think was easy to love, easy to live with- for the most part. The incidents and adventures he had with all his roommates were told in the form of happy stories, jokes, things that might make myself twitch and scream, but he would only laugh at. That was Wash.
So it quickly became home with Wash. We would be married. If we moved for school for either of us, we would still be together, in a home, even if it was in a dorm room. That was the plan. We could handle renting places for a few years, get established, we even agreed we could deal with a child while renting for a few years before wanting to have our own [SF] home. Wash, being the Architect, had of course already filled two or three notepads with his designs for our future home; how it would be built, the material, the layout, how he could even expand additions on to it for office space, or workshops, or extra guest or children's rooms. He designed a greenhouse for me as well; he wanted me to have the garden of my dreams.
Home became wherever we were together.

Sometimes, often, I talk to his TARDIS urn. Probably at least once a day still. I never expect nor receive any contact back. It is not the same though. It is not his energy that is left around. His things, his memories, my memories, but not his energy.
Once we moved in, once we said our vows, it was to the end. To death.

He promised he would let me go first. He did not often break promises. He really was a 'man of his word', but that time, he broke it.
I did not ask much from him, but told him that I did not want to live out my life waiting to die after him.

I am happy for the recordings I have. For the videos he left for me. The cards he gave me long ago, the notes I still find around the rooms, tucked in books.
There are still days, many day, where I wish I could call his phone and hear his voice. Where I wish I could hear which messages he saved of me telling him I loved him. All of them? Many? I wish I could hear that voice. I wish I could understand why his phone service was shut off the day after his death.
He was not on my plan, but had his phone from his days long long ago in California.

It does not feel like 2013.
It does not feel "right". Things are changing. Some against my will or wishes, some things instigated by me for my own good.
Some nights it becomes about the simplest of things. Remember how it felt to hold hands.
Remembering what it was like to be lying down and staring right into each others eyes. He had soft, wonderful eyes. Happy, large, clear eyes. He was often smiling, but his eyes held most of his expressions.
I remember the texture of his beard. The colours in his hair. The shape of his ear and neck. How his hips drew in just slightly but down to firm thighs and great legs- be it a bit pasty.

He loved to bother me by surprising me in the middle of something to quickly give my nose a wet kiss.

I've moved my pocket-watch to the bedside table. The soft ticking is comforting. It reminds me of Wash, of his heart-beat.

I have to check the office closet, but it looks like I'm missing some key pieces to my bed frame. This now is a bit of an issue as I'd like to sleep off the floor now that Wash rolling or falling out of bed and hurting himself is not an problem to consider.

Time does not make it easier. Not at all. Time reminds me of the future I/we had imagined.
2013 was the point where he should be done with school and into his Apprenticeship. 2013 was going to be my point of finishing my undergrad triple, or starting grad school with a specific major. 2013 was going to be the year we started to make solid plans for long term; looking at careers, looking at places to settle, to build our home, a place with good school for the kids we wanted to try to have in a couple years.
It's not, though. 2013 is the year I'm a widow. It's the year I won't be traveling to Taliesin with Wash for his school.
2013 is the year that I wonder if I will have an anniversary; does it still count if the other party involved is deceased? Is it still my anniversary, or was it my/our anniversary?
2013 is the year I travel alone, because I am alone now. I don't have a husband, a companion.
2013 is the year I wonder if I can watch the shows I/we loved, without it being too painful to enjoy.
I'd like to catch up on Doctor Who, but I literally don't know how without him. It feels as wrong to me as waking up alone in my bed. Same thing with Blood and Chrome. It is hard for me yet to figure out how to enjoy something when all my mind can think of is how much I wish my husband was not dead to see it; to have his fanboy and geek heart enjoy something. Because he lived for certain shows. He loved me, this I know. But he lived for the moment Kara was screaming from the brig "YOU'RE GOING THE WRONG WAY!"
He lived to text me "Morning, Starbuck. What do you hear?"


I miss having an (amateur) astronomer as a partner. I miss being woken up for 15 mins to walk outside to enjoy a full moon directly overhead. Large, and bright.
I miss that on evening walks, he always knew the stars and planets.


It's only been 5 months.
I still miss the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

Struggles

Redbox is giving me a free rental tomorrow.
Going to see Cloud/Atlas with my mum.
Eating dinner with my family at my favourite Mexican food restaurant.
Going bowling after.
Birthday pie.

I am going to try to enjoy it.

In truth, I am struggling a lot with stopping my brain from just constantly re-living the 25th, 26th, 27th of October 2009. When we found the tumor. When my life changed completely, and my world stopped on its axis.
When my future and dreams were stripped away by a connected group of rogue cells 9cmx5cmx3cm.

Tomorrow will be my first birthday as a Widow. My first birthday without my husband.

Today is even one minute at a time.

I have some great friends who sent me a LEGO set and Fringe. 

If anyone is wanting to send me a little "birthday" something, I do have a amazon wishlist, or the Fundly Site is still running for another two weeks. I do still need to figure out some monetary needs for his memorial service, and to cover back the cost of his body removal/cremation. Not surprisingly, his family did not help with that. Thankfully, we found a place to take care of it as "cost" so it was only a bit over $600... but as I still have not even received my $225.00 "funeral" settlement from Social Security...  there are stresses. 

Now is not the time to talk about those issues though. That just leads me to a place of hurt, anger, and betrayal. 

I've been painting a bit more, trying to take a walk each day, get myself out of the house and bed.

I'm starting to forget what he smelled like. 

Breaking Silence

I feel a need for honesty; though my friends know with me that is never really a problem.

Yesterday my husband's family had a memorial service in his name.
I did not attend.
Technically yes, I was invited; when my mail/invitation came Saturday AFTER the service in a different State was over.

I am Wash's next of kin, and his executor. I am his widow.
I heard him every day for 3 years describe in great detail his ideal Memorial Service.
I am working hard to make that happen for him on December 8, 2012, again, in the Winter, as he requested before his death.

I am truly sorry to those who may have been deceived by others, but he did want and had Willed me to take control of the details.

The love of my life, my soulmate, my husband died less than 6 weeks ago.

Please keep it civil. I will be moderating comments on this post.

Wash had asked me not to write about his parents' or his issues with them until after his death.

I complied. 

Lisa Simpson (TM?)

Spending my day with cats cuddling in my lap and watching wonderful movies (Director's Cut where applicable) based on books or graphic novels I own;
*Manhunter based on "Red Dragon" by Thomas Harris
*V for Vendetta based on GN of same title by Alan Moore & David Lloyd
*Watchmen based on GN of same title by Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons
*The Dark Knight based on Batman The Killing Joke by Alan Moore & Brian Bolland (with reference to The Dark Knight Returns graphic novel, which I also have)


Showing my geek side today.
Wash loved me in part for this(the geekery), and I loved him back for it.
Sometimes the most powerful moments happen due to Art.



Seeing "Watchmen" in the theatre with him was one of the best moments we had.

Wibbly Wobbly

I grew up with The Doctor.

I even watched the movie of the 8th.

But it was not until I began to date Wash that I learned of the re-launch.
He was SO excited to share it with me, he even did it out of linear order.
The first episode I ever saw with him was "The Forest of the Dead".

Alex Kingston as Prof River Song had me in tears by the end of the episode, with no other context than that one episode.
We were both huge Moffat fans and he wanted a "Grand Moff" episode to reel me in.
It worked.


Then again, maybe there was a reason this was the first episode we saw together.
Things are not always in a ... timeline order.
We saw this before we married. I did not have cable, Wash did. He got BBC and convinced me back in the summer of 2008 to watch an episode.
I was already pretty smitten with Wash by then, but enjoying that episode with him, sharing those moments were so happy. I was able to be myself, to enjoy something "geeky" (it was not NEARLY as popular a few years ago as it is now) and to not be judged but fully accepted.
Wash had some wonderful foresight.

He said I would love Donna. I did.
He said I would love River Song. I did.

"The Doctor, in the TARDIS... Next stop; Everywhere."
"Spoilers!"

4 long years ago. Spoilers, indeed.
So much to come. So much pain. So many happy moments.
A lifetime in the blink of an eye.

I miss him, MY love, MY TimeLord.
It's like living with an echo in my mind.

"You and me. Time and Space. You watch us run."


Doctor: Come on, next chapter's this way.
Song: When you run with the Doctor, it feels like it will never end. But however hard you try, you can't run forever. Everybody knows that everybody dies. And nobody knows it like the Doctor. But I do think that all the skies of all the worlds might just turn dark if he ever, for one moment, accepted...
Everybody knows that everybody dies. But not every day. 
Not today.
Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed. Some days, nobody dies at all.
Now and then, every once in a very long while, every day in a million day when the wind stands fair and the Doctor comes to call...every body lives.



The time I had with you, Wash, I would not have a line of it re-written.
You live on in me.

Walkies

Enjoying this nice moment.
Went out for a walk before dinner and met two adorable dogs; a little Malti-Poo who lives down the street and just LOVES to meet new people, and a cute (but big!) 7 month old Pit puppy with some lovely facial markings. The pit lives in my complex and she was also a sweetie.

Aelphie and Leto seem slightly jealous, but, they'll get over it or pee on my shoes.


Today seemed to me more of me mentally shoring up myself instead of needing support from others. It was a nice reminder that I was independent before, and can be again.

I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but today for the first time since my husband died I felt a little bit of my own strength.

Cannot erase our love

Small Photo break today.

I see these Post-It notes he left every day. I see them, read them, and remind myself of his words often.

I have been feeling hurt, angry, and rage filled lately at the opinion of some who by all seeming means, are literally trying to erase me from my husband's life.
Erase what we had.
What he did for me, what I did for him.
Erase the last years of his life.
Erase his happy smiles.

I am angry, because to me, Wash's love for me was just so obvious. Hopefully as my love was to him.
Clear and ever present.
He was the best thing to happen to me, and often said I was the same to him.
That cannot be taken away.


Love find ways to stay, even if the person who loved is no longer around.
His words are. His message. His intent.
His love.

***********************************************************************************

"Future me:
Be excellent to Tashi Today!
Past me"

"Is it possible for me to love my wife... more than I do?
I do hope so."

"Tashi, you deserve far more than what I have to offer. But I'll give you what I can for as long as I can.
Because I love you.
Wash"

Engineer's Thumb

I ended up getting physically ill late yesterday.

Might have been some bad second-hand news I received late in the day, or maybe some spinach I ate which was not fully washed.

I did not sleep well last night for the most part; a lot of digestive issues and mental ones. I tried sleeping on the couch, and on the little bed in the library. Leto, to his lovely credit was doing his best to cuddle with me and make me feel better all night.
At about 3am I got a little manic and did some very light cleaning in the bedroom, and put down the heavier comforter on the big bed.
I also did a load of laundry.

I finally crashed out in the big bed around 4am, pressed tightly to Wash's pillows on his side of the bed.
It still smells like him, since I have not been able to bring myself to Wash his pillowcases yet, or replace the pillows that hold his scent.
It might be a while before I do that. I'm ok with this; I keep the little bed clean, and my pillowcases on my side.
I slept with no bad dreams the few short hours I was down in our bed. Aelphie was right by my chest, Leto was keeping my feet and legs warm. They both seemed to know I needed both of them.

I woke up for my morning Physical Therapy and felt so awful. After spending almost an hour in the bathroom I threw in the flag and cancelled PT for today.
My mum has been checking in on my throughout today.

Thankfully, I manged to keep some (vegan, non fish) miso soup down this afternoon and then had another long nap in the big bed.
It's easier to sleep in our bed when I can smell him. I miss holding him, as I used to do every night. I miss saying "I love you." and hearing it back every night before I fell asleep. I still tell him, but I don't hear it back anymore.

I tried to be kind to myself today.

5 weeks. Both a lifetime, and a second. Closer to a lifetime.

The Belchies

Friday was pretty ... intense.

I spent the first few hours of the day just sobbing.
Could not stop crying.

I kept seeing his last few conscious hours over and over.

My friends (Wash's frat brothers) sent me a text in the early afternoon to the effect of "We love you, and know it's a bad day. Can we still take you out for distractions?"
I said yes.

We had a nice time getting out for some frozen yoghurt. That was a nice break.

We were attempting to go as a whole group to a "movie in the park" event; a free movie on a greenbelt/lawn. With our weather this is a common activity.

Sadly it was like a coming together of all kinds of "worst case" scenarios.
Some members were running late... we did not have enough blankets to grab space for all of us, there were dogs running loose around, the folks behind us kept spilling pizza on my blankets and pillows.... It became obvious before showtime there were FAR too many people who came to see the movie than the venue really had space for.

To their immense credit my friends cared. About me.
Wash used to be my rock and calming presence when I went out. I do not like going out, really, I do not like crowds, or uncontrolled animals (even at an animal friendly venue), wayyyyy too many toddlers walking around with no parental supervision... my brain was going into overdrive.
Too many noises, too many sensations, too many variables for me to calculate, which is what my brain does when I am outside or in a crowd.

My friends said... "Tashi? You look really uncomfortable. Let's go."
And we did. And they did not make a big deal of it, or make me feel bad for having to leave a planned event due to me.

We went over to C* & R*'s place and ended up getting pizza, and lots of beers, and watched "Clue".
It seemed liked a much calmer (and to me, more enjoyable) evening.

I was still missing Wash, so much, but they really helped to distract me and get me through a bad day.


Today, it's suddenly Fall.
Cold weather, cats wanting to cuddle, and an extra blanket needed for the bed.
I like this. It also means in a week or so I'll have to switch the fish around some; the babies need to be moved to a larger and warmer tank, and the big tank needs to have a heater put in it so the big Molly I'm a Fish Foster Mum for stays warm at night.

I've been watching "The Belchies" this morning, so far about 3 times. I think it might be my favourite episode of Bob's Burgers. Which also means I will be watching 'The Goonies' later, because we did not see it last night.


Everything is different and new at the same time is it familiar to me.


Lately, I've just really missed in so so so many ways getting to be geeky around someone else.
I miss making a reference out loud to a show, a book, a movie and having that person (Wash) who got it.
I miss talking about George Lucas.
I miss talking about geek cons and panels.
I miss gossiping and guessing about movies to be released.

I don't have anyone to talk to anymore like that. He's gone.
I find myself still having conversations; as if he could hear.


Cleaning today. Doing some laundry; clothes and the sheets on my little bed I sleep in, and washing the winter blankets (heavier than the summer ones). They're clean, but they kinda smell like the linen closet.


Just trying to tread water today, keep breathing.







*Not their real initials

Feet on the ground

I had dreams last night about the last night Wash was ever conscious and it was pretty horrible.
It was basically re-living it in my dreams.
I could not wake up.

When I did, I spent the first 30 mins or so just sobbing in my bed, I could not even move.

Yesterday, distractions helped.
Today, not so much.

I even got notified that DES won't cancel my health insurance now that Wash is gone, but that is not 'cheering' me up like it should.

It's like his last few hours are burned into my consciousness and it's a record player that won't stop; over and over again I see him, hear him, but just those words.

I don't even know right now, breathing hurts.

Untitled

In some moments it hits me like a car going 35 MPH.

I just had a conversation out loud.
With myself.
Because I live alone now.
My husband died. I can talk, but he's not going to answer anymore.

I'm so used to telling him everything.
Now, I'm talking to myself/the cats.

Part of my new "normal".

Leto, being adorable

Had some nightmares again last night, but I was able to control them more.
I woke up feeling better than I have in a while.

Still broke down and sobbed for a bit in the shower this morning.

The cats have been cuddly lately. Super cute. Needy. I'm ok with this, and spoiling them right now. Maybe we all need it.

My friend R* is here from the Pacific North West on work, and then she's spending the weekend with me before she leaves.
We've known each other for years.
She knew Wash.
She's also lost someone close to her to (a different kind) brain cancer.
So, she knows.

Hour by hour, some worse than others, but I just hold on to Hope that somehow it will start to get better, at some point.
I still Hope it will.

Analogies

Trying to remember to stay in the moment.

I keep expecting to see or hear him. To have him respond to me, only to realize I'm now actually talking to myself.
I miss his wit. Even after the cancer, I miss his wit.

I miss having someone to watch X-Files, Firefly, Freakylinks, Drive, Twin Peaks, Fringe, or Torchwood on a Friday night.
I miss the little routines we had together as a couple. As partners.

Rationally, I know he is not coming back, in his old form, through our front door. Never again.
There's a part of me that still expects him to, though.

Grief is not waves; it is a riptide taking you suddenly to new places you never knew about yet the instinct is to struggle against.

I painted some today; depending on how many more hours I stay up tonight, I might get my first (basic level) paint-by-numbers kit completed. I will post pics when it is done.

I have managed to eat at least one full meal each day. Progress. Cleaning the kitchen with Fraternity help tomorrow. 

I'll try to be more articulate in a new post. This is more just a way for me to vent tonight. 

Spoilers, Sweetie

Kevin Pratt-King came home today; for the last time.

As per his wishes he will have a part of himself shot off in rockets(details to come); the rest he wished to travel in his custom made TARDIS urn.

Only Kevin "Wash" knows how much bigger it is on the inside, or how big the pool in the library is, but he is where he wanted, and hopefully starting amazing new adventures.

Thank you to everyone who has shared his story.
Thank you to everyone for your amazing show of support for his family.
Thank you to his fellow Browncoats for carrying him, and thank you to his Whovian brethren and fellow geeks (and CF4L) to help make sure his final wishes would be carried out.

His energy was only in this form for 28 short years, but his love touched the world.

I'm not sure what his next regeneration would look like (he'd hope for Ginger too) but I know he'd tell me, "Shh, Spoilers."

You are now a Leaf on the Wind Wash; we will watch how you soar.

Waiting on the Giggle Loop

Hard morning.

First Monday; first start of a week (and New Year) without the man I expected to spend my life with.

I'm hoping to bring him home today.

I feel too young today. Too young, too hurt.

It's like the most perverted cultural opposite; this time I will be carrying his ashes over our threshold.

How does one even prepare for that moment?

I've been trying to be/sleep at home more. Some nights I can do it, some nights I cannot.

It hurt waking up today.

It hurt to hear the kitties cry. They have food, water, litter.

They just miss their Dad. I do too.

Aelphie and I had each other for a few years before Wash came around. It took her most of a year to even accept him.

Leto has only EVER known life with his dad. His whole existence has been keeping his dad company through the day. It hurts to see them confused and not have the words to let them know he is not coming back.

I have good moments and bad. Good minutes, bad hours.

I hear the ticking of Wash's pocketwatch. I've been keeping it wound for him.

Tick-Tick-Tick-Tick.

One, two, three, four.

He still carries my heartbeat.

I'm wondering if I should watch Firefly, BSG, Doctor Who, or Torchwood for him today.