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.

Sighs

I really really dislike having to tell DES (again) that Wash is (still) dead.
Nope, has not come back. No awesome miracles like that!

I cannot understand why if I tell them I am widowed, and sent them copies of the Death Certificate about 2 weeks after he passed, they still have to ask me and verify he's dead.

WHO IN ARIZONA HAS DIED, GOTTEN A DEATH CERTIFICATE  AND THEN COME BACK TO LIFE TO APPLY FOR  MEDICAL BENEFITS?

I'm assuming this had to have happened to someone because I just cannot imagine why the state would like to traumatize people who have lost their spouse/child/dependent.


What annoys me even more is spending a crap-ton of phone minutes I can't really afford to talk to someone at DES and for 3 straight days get nothing but a busy signal. I call about every 10 minutes to check. From 8am-5pm.


So much to do, so overwhelmed, and so distracted.

I would also note to them that the asthma I have had for 16 or 17 years now has also not "cured" itself. That would be the "chronic" part of "chronic asthma".



Too much going on. I'm riled up.


I'm scared and nervous to leave, and at the same time, I cannot wait to be gone- even for just a 6 week term- from Arizona.

Speaking of, briefly, I'm about halfway to my needed goal to cover costs for Israel! My scholarships are helping out with some things, but I'm still doing the majority of this upfront out-of-pocket. But, I want this, and I know I'll be in a different place when I am done there for the summer. I don't know if it will be a "good" or "bad" different, but I know that I will change. I need some change. I need some personal growth time, some time not defined as "wife" "caregiver" "widow", but as "Tashi". Time to look at my future and maybe see something there for me.
The future hurts. Every day hurts. Every minute and second. It hurts to live without him. It hurts to know he is gone. It hurts to try, to have to remember who my love was; instead of knowing because he lives.
My thoughts, my hopes are that in a new place, around new people, a place defined by my own self- not "us"- thinking and looking at my future won't hurt as much.
It will always hurt. I know this. I knew it before.

But maybe, maybe, it will start to hurt less.

More To Come

Well, there are a few logistical issues to take care of, and a few scholarships to apply for, but it looks like with some help and luck, I'll be in Israel this summer for a college programme.
I am aiming for 6-8 credit hours to earn, and as my school is in the North part of the country, I also hope to be able to visit Jerusalem while I am there.

There is a lot I need to get done, and a lot of support I will need to get through this, but I am excited to be back in a learning environment. Learning and knowledge make me happy.

Thank you Friends, for all your support, prayers, wishes.
I'll have more information in a few days to share.

Here it goes...

Tomorrow I have a video interview (my first!) at 10am.

With a college admissions coordinator in Israel.
I hopefully will find out if I have been accepted into a summer college programme.

Before I go off on premature plans, or more information, I will say this.


I am scared.
Terrified.
Anxious.
Filled with trepidation.

I am also hopeful.
Hopeful I have friends near and far who can help me with logistics.
Hopeful I might get in.
Hopeful I might begin to find the "me" that was given to "we" when I married.
Hopeful this might be a good change for who I am and have been.
Hopeful this might let me start walking again. Looking forward.
Hopeful I may again remember passions, and desire for learning.
Hopeful I could survive (short term) without my cats, my only Companions left.

Hopeful I can adapt to the potential change, the new-ness, the shuffle of my routine.

Hopeful I might make new friends.
Hopeful I may even meet another (young) widow.

Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers tomorrow morning, if you would.

I am hopeful if everything can come together, this might be what I truly need to find life, and begin to see where my own will go.

I have not been able to think about my future for 4 years. It is daunting, but I am growing to see it can empower me.

Down the Rabbit Hole I Go!

Shabbat Shalom!

I have some melancholia in my bones today.

Are anniversaries still something to bring up, to celebrate, if there is no one to celebrate for/with?

My wedding anniversary is next week.
Pi day, of course.


I'm a widow. Am I allowed an anniversary, still? What, if anything is there to celebrate? My husband's death? I'm not that morbid.
The 6 or so weeks of marriage we had before the tumor grew so big it began to change him?
The few months we took to secretly plan an elopement?

Celebrating dreams and ideas that will never happen? The home never built. The children never to be born.



The cats and I have decided staying in bed and crying is the best move.

It doesn't seem real today. That he is gone.


Tomorrow is Sunday. That was his Gaming Day.
Too many memories today of loss.
Too many.

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.

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.

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".

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. 

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.