3 years

Still hard to wrap my brain around the fact that he is gone sometimes. 3 years. So long yet so short. Someone commented to me the other day on how they admired my faithful love for Ted. Just because he died doesnt mean my love dies too. I have this crazy urge to contact the subway restaurant where he bought our dinner the night he died and see if they have any video of him from their cameras. I just want to see him. It would have been the last few hours of his life. And so today, as I do every year, I begin the "At this time 3 years ago game". Not that I want to play but your mind just goes there as the hours of the day go by. I hope he knew how loved he was. I think he did. How sad for people who go through life never knowing what it feels like to be loved. I can close my eyes and feel how much he loved me. Still loves me. 3 years later.

Almost Here

It's almost here. The 3 year mark. Hard to believe. I feel myself hibernating my mind. Like I am preparing for it. I do not know yet what I will do. Release some baloons. Maybe go eat at our favorite place. With family? Maybe not. I do know it needs to be planned. I have learned early on the worst thing is to think you will be ok and the day won't bother you. So wrong. I just feel as if I do not know where to turn. I don't have a direction. I need a direction in my life. I need my lists. I need my things to do. I need structure. There is no structure. Hasn't been any since October 9. I think not having any structure and order is making the coming weeks worse. I pulled out my pen from my wallett today. Something I do all the time. But today when I did it, I clearly heard my Ted's voice saying "That's a nice looking pen you have there. Wonder where you got it from?" And I smiled. He had said this to me many, many times. We had been walking in the mall when we were dating. He stepped on it and picked it up. A very nice Cross pen. Of course I said I liked it and took it to look at and it became mine. Funny how things just come to you like that. I miss him. I don't know what tomorrow will bring but I'm glad I could smile when I thought of him today instead of cry. Then I saw my old boss at the store today. Or someone that loked like him. I stared for several minutes. Very close resemblance. I hope he is doing well. Taking care of himself. Saw an ad for a coffee maker like the one he bought. He tried to make sure I was happy. It was nice while it lasted anyway. Someone said to me it had to happen. I suppose it did. I just wish it hadn't happened when it did. It would have been nice if it had happened in a couple more years. Like someone else says though, you can't unring a bell. Just keep swimming is all I can do.

14 years

Today marks what would have been our 14 year anniversary. I wish he were here. He was such a wonderful husband. Oh sure he had things he did and said I didn't like. But I knew he would do anything he needed to do in order to take care of me and our family. He loved me unconditionally. Even when I made him mad, he still loved me. I loved how he would look at me. I would catch him just looking at me and say "what are you looking at?" and he would say "you are so pretty & I love you so much". Even after 11 years of marriage he was still doing this. He did it the night he died. I miss him. I love him so much. I was so blessed to have had him for as long as I did.

Grief Waves

I have not been functioning well lately. Second guessing my decision to start this office. I am making simple mistakes I haven't made since I started in this business. Wondering if this is where God wants me. I just keep praying. Friday was pretty bad. I had an overwhelming desire to email him, text him, call him. But I am certain he is much better off not hearing from me. I have been contemplating not working at all. Adjusting the budget, tightening the belt and just not worrying about it until the end. Like Scarlett, saying "I'll worry about that tomorrow". Then I was alone Saturday. Woke up, had some coffee, got dressed. Then wandered through the quiet house. And as I wandered, thoughts and memories surrounded my mind. Then the wave hit. Has been a long, long while since I have grieved that hard. I got his coat out of the drawer and just hugged it to my chest. Looked at pictures of him. Oh how I miss him. This is the season of his sickness and his death. Was just looking at a sales paper full of Christmas things. And I thought to myself "It's here again". It is hard not to go back in time and relive these days. But I realized as I was grieving if I did not have the little office to go to, the clients to worry over, the policies to work on, that is exactly what I would do. Grieve everyday. Oh sure. There are lots of things to be done around the house but chances are, if I stayed home, most of my days would be spent sitting, crying, trying to live in the past. That is why I have loved this job so much. For what it is has given me. I wish he knew that. So I will keep going. Try to get my thoughts straight. Try to stop second guessing myself. And just try to keep my head above the waves.

Smiles

Tomorrow will be my first official day in my new office. My dancing flower & I are ready. I am so excited. Tired but excited. I just want to build up a new client base and start helping people. Had an older man tell me today "Don't stop smiling. You are making people feel better when you smile" and he is right. The best thing you can do when you feel down is to smile. Most of the time you will get a smile in return. I am still being run ragged. So much that my legs ache & I just want to sleep. But I keep going. In 5 years all the aggravation and aches will be worth it. God is good even in the trials. I can do nothing without Him. And I will try my best to keep smiling.

Prayers

Her little hands were folded. Her eyes squeezed shut. She said " God, please help my Gammy get her job back ". The things the children pick up on. Just trying to stay focused. Not panic. Not let the anxiety creep in. I will be OK. I am a survivor. Have a very long drive tomorrow. I am not looking forward to the rapid depletion of my money into the gas tank but I am going to try and enjoy the day with my son and grand daughter. The colors have changed back to dull over the last week, after being bright for the first time in years. But I am hoping I will see a glimpse of brightness. Hoping and praying.

Something Different

Different is how the old time wids described their lives to me when I was newly widowed. I hated different then. Couldn't stand it. But now, 2 & 1/2 years later my feelings have changed. Different is good. Different forces you to get out of your comfort zone. Different helps you to see there are other things, people out there besides that which you surround yourself with. I gravitate towards different now. I have a different home. I work in a different job than I've ever had. I dress differently than I used to. My hair is now different. I notice men that are different from the kind of man Ted was. Which I think is good for me. I don't want to be with someone who will remind me of him. I met Ted a long time ago and shortly after I met him, I met another guy who became my friend. But this guy reminded me so much of Ted it was scary. Even down to the way he looked. I think that is why when Ted & I broke up I began dating my friend. I do not want to be laying in bed with someone only to look at their face and see my wonderful, loving husband. And have the grief hit me and knock me down. I do not know how to do this thing called dating. I am finding I am no good at it. I am too self conscious about the way I look, the way I dress, the things I say, to begin to be comfortable. How is this done? How do you get to that place where conversations flow, you have things in common, you can eat messy pizza in front of him, he thinks you look good dressed up or down, you make each other laugh, you want to be there for each other. I am nowhere near ready for marriage. I am perfectly content just seeing who is out there, having a nice time. But it would be nice to have a connection. On an emotional level. I suppose if it is meant to be it will happen. Like Ted. In the meantime I will just ride the grief waves as they come and try to enjoy this different life of mine.

Was fine till I sat with you

Was fine all day. No grief bursts in awhile. No real deep sadness. The day was productive. But right around 6pm I got the desire to go to the cemetery. I haven't been in a week or so and just felt the need to go. So I went. And sat on my bench. And just began to cry. I don't know where these tears came from but they just poured. As I looked at the headstone, the name, dates, I just cried harder. Then I recalled a memory of him sitting at the computer and talking and suddenly there was that disbelief. How could he be dead? He was just here. Talking. Eating. Living. Breathing. Doing. How is he dead? I almost hate when this happens because it forces my mind to go back to the day he died and in a flash relive those moments so I will catch up to the present. I miss him. The ache in my heart is so physical. I love him. As I cried I asked him to please let me see him. So I looked around, scanning the trees in the distance. For a shape. An outline. A light. Anything. I just want to sit with him in real life. I remember the last few auctions we went to. I was sitting next to him and he was so pale and tired from the doctors and hospital. But still so strong. I remember laying my head on his shoulder and how good that felt. It was something I rarely did, I guess because of my independent, self sufficient nature. I wish I had done it more often. It would feel so good to lay my head on his shoulder tonight.

Mr. Sandman bring me a dream

And bring me a dream he did! I was hoping to see Ted on Tuesday when I had surgery and was put under anesthesia. I actually prayed for it to happen. Instead I got a sweet beautiful dream early that morning before I went to the hospital. For some reason he and I were laying on the grass just outside my door. We were kissing and then I was touching his face. It was the kind of dream after I woke up I could still feel his beard on the palm of my hand. He was asking me some personal things. I remember laughing. Then I told him I missed him. He said "I know". I asked him if he liked heaven. He said "Oh yes. So much. And you will too!" There was a sound of excitement in his voice I had never heard before. He had a glow in his eyes. But oh how sweet it was to spend time with him. Now on to other dreams..... I felt very loved after the surgery, many people called to see how I was, the friend I am kind of sort of dating called me before I went in. That was nice. And I got a message from someone I least expected to get one from. Which made me feel so very good. Why is it we tend to fall for people that don't want us? Took Ted 6 years to realize I was the best thing for his life and exactly what he needed. I know I had some lessons to learn in those 6 years as well but it's still a hard thing to swallow. Rejection. But it's all good. Tuesday was a good day.

33

One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do Two can be as bad as one It's the loneliest number since the number one No is the saddest experience you'll ever know Yes, it's the saddest experience you'll ever know `Cause one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do One is the loneliest number, worse than two One is the loneliest, number one is the loneliest Number one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do One is the loneliest, one is the loneliest He would sing this to me sometimes. Believe me he was not musically talented. I would laugh and kiss his face. We liked our number 3's though. He was 32 & I was 30 when we got together the second time around. He was 36 & I was 34 when we had our son. He was born at 3:51pm. Once our oldest moved out it was just the 3 of us. He gave me 3 roses one time. Which I cut up once when I got mad at him and he replaced on our wedding day. I guess it's only fitting I have a procedure done tomorrow on what marks the 33rd month of his passing. I was at work today and saw a picture of Pooh and Piglet holding hands. Pooh says "If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I'll stay there forever". Immediately his face came to my mind and I started to cry. He will be in my heart forever and eternity.

Labor Day

I wasn't able to go to the cemetery until yesterday. Finally. I used to be so good at keeping his grave neat and tidy and changing his flowers for the seasons. It made me feel like I was still taking care of him. Which was all I have known for so long. But since my job has changed and my hours are longer and my commitment has deepened, I seem to have less time to devote to other important things in my life. So when I got there I noticed a big beautiful American flag had been placed on his grave. I looked around and there were similar ones placed on other graves. The caretaker had done it. He is a very nice man and I have spoke with him many times. So the first reaction I have is pure guilt. That I had not thought to come and put and a flag on my own husbands grave. Shame on me. Then I had a feeling of gratitude. That someone had thought to do this. As I sat on the bench with him beneath my feet, I looked at that flag and let my thoughts wander. He was the hardest working "laborer" I knew. And still know to this day. That man would have done whatever it took for his family to have what we needed and wanted. He labored from 5am until 10pm. He would come home from work and be so exhausted and want nothing more than to lay down. Instead he would go into the garage and work on whatever side mechanic job he had going at the time. His poor feet would get so callused from his work boots. I made sure he had good cushioned insoles but sometimes it just didn't matter. Work boots are work boots. I spent a lot of time rubbing lotion on his feet. Spent a lot of time giving him back massages. Walking on his back to crack it. He loved his job too. Was so proud of the tooling he would build. Intricate, detailed designs he would just put together like it was nothing. All with only eyesight in one eye! He labored at car auctions and was so good at knowing which cars to buy. Very rarely did he lose money. Hundreds of times I had to push, pull or follow him home in a vehicle. If it was drivable I would follow behind him and he would be swerving on the road as he checked everything out. The cars didn't sit in our drive long. He sold them pretty quick. He labored at the junk yard. He knew just what items would sell good on Ebay so if he had to go get a part for himself he was always on the look out for things he could sell. He was the hardest working man I know. Happy Labor Day honey!

A stranger

I am so needing to feel close to Ted tonight. Missing him, thinking of him. Came across some pictures I took of our home not long after he died. Each room just the way it was when he was alive. There was the living room. The couch he sat on as we ate that night. The front door the paramedics came through. The floor they laid him on where they cut his shirt off. My chair I was sitting in that night. The chair he was sitting in when he died. It is like looking at a strangers house tonight. I feel emotionless when I look at it. I guess I should be glad. I look at the one of him laying in the casket. His orange, grease stained shirt he wore so much. His face I caressed a thousand times. His strong arms. His ears... Same thing. Emotionless. I need him. It is lonely tonight. Too quiet. Health issues are weighing me down. I want him here to be my shoulder to lean on. To tell me it will be alright. To tell me I am making the right decision. Many friends yet I never seem to have one at the moment I need one. Just to listen. Everyone is asleep as I should be. What do you do when your mind just won't shut off? Write. I think of when we first met. He asked me if I had any potentials. I said What? He said potential boyfriends. He was funny. He drove a big blue Ford van named Big Blue. His hair was long and always uncombed. He reminded me of Hulk Hogan. He had the most beautiful smile and laugh. I am such a better person just from knowing him and having him in my life. I think he died knowing he was loved unconditionally, faithfully, eternally by me. What more could anyone ask for?

Sometimes It Takes Another...

To remind us of everything we have and how life really is sweet and that God does provide for all of our needs. Went to my parents church this morning to surprise them. I was the one surprised because they weren't there. I haven't felt very spiritual lately. Have really been slipping. Farther and farther away. They had a guest preacher today and his message was simple. God does provide. He then went on to tell how he just lost his son a few weeks ago. It was his second son to die. They died within a few months of each other. They were in their 40's. I lost my husband but I can't imagine the heartbreak of losing a child. No matter what the age. The funerals wiped out every bit of savings he had. Then he suddenly had money trickling in. $500 from a widow at his church, $1200 collected by his church family, $2200 collected from his family down south. He had enough to be able to pay his taxes and insurance on his home. God always comes through. Just when we think we are at the very end, something happens. I requested prayer for a friend who recently got the gift of life. I'm so happy for him but at the same time it's sad that one person had to die so another could live. Makes me think of Christ. And the sacrifice He made for us. I want to get back to that spirit filled faith I used to have. I think though, when things happen in our life such as sickness, death, financial worries, depression, it can make us become jaded. Start thinking "Why bother". Then sometimes it just takes another to remind us of just how rich in love, family, friends, health we truly are.

Feeling.......

Not sure what I'm feeling. It comes and goes but most is all good. I'm rediscovering myself. I'm discovering it's ok to have fun. I'm feeling excited about life again. Not sure if I will ever find love again but I'm ok with that. Feeling like writing again. And that excites me. Stories keep popping up in my head. I haven't felt creative in such a long time. Now if I can only find the time. 32 months today. I went and visited him today. Sat for awhile. It was nice. I asked him yesterday morning to give me something just to let me know he was still around. After getting home from work in the evening I started walking down my driveway and happened to look down and there in the dirt was a big old dirty quarter. Usually it's a penny. I guess he wanted to make sure I know without a doubt he is still here.

Weekends

Had a perfectly fine day. Work is going well. Family is doing well. Spent quality time with my son today. But every Friday it starts. At around 5pm. Most people love it. They plan things for it. The weekend. The long, drawn out, slow weekend. It seems to be never ending. When he was alive that's how I used to be. Couldn't wait for the work week to be over, school to be over so we could sleep in, go to the flea market, yard sales, catch a movie, just do whatever. Sometimes together. Sometimes not. Not anymore. I can't wait for 6am Monday morning. Weekends have become unbearable. Don't know why but today the grief has just come crashing down. Sitting outside crying, cars driving by. I do not even care. My chest hurts. Sometimes I want to check myself into a hospital just for the weekend. Just so someone can take care of me. I miss him. I hate this loneliness. Keep busy. Bring work home. Clean the house for the 10th time. Only so much you can do. So many games you can play. Just keep going. Monday will be here soon. The weekend can't last forever.

2 & 1/2 years

Today. Exactly two and a half years since you died. I was sad most of the day and cried a few times. Especially when me and our son went and put your Dad sign on your grave for Father's Day. He didn't deserve for you to die. He needs you. He will be promoted from 5th grade tomorrow. Another milestone that I will have to witness alone. Without you. Things are different yet the same. We live in a different home, I finally put your boots, jacket, toothbrush away. Yet I still feel you. I feel your laughter when I do something silly. I feel your smile when I accomplish a tough task. I feel your love when I'm lonely. It's still so very hard. I wish you would have told me who to call to fix things. Set me up with a handy man. Someone you trusted. I'm trying to go on living. Some days I feel like you are only in Canada on field service and will be home any day. That's how much we have kept your spirit alive with us. Then there are other days it seems we were never married or that life was long, long ago. The grand kids still talk about you. Especially your namesake. Your big son still goes to your grave and doesn't want me to date or remarry if you can believe that. I'm going to step out of my comfort zone and actually go out this weekend. With people who aren't my family. Strangers that I've known since you died. I'm afraid. But I know I need to. I think it will be good for me. I know they will get it. Get me. I think you would be proud of me and how I have kept going despite the grief, the problems, the anxiety, the loneliness. I just keep doing what needs to be done. For our son. For me. I look at pictures of me pre widowhood and notice my eyes. How they sparkle, seem to be filled with life. The pictures of me post widowhood are different. My eyes are dull, lifeless. I want to change that. I want them to sparkle again. I think you would want that too. I think of how you used to look at me. I would catch you just staring at me. With so much love. So many people never get to experience what we had. I am so grateful I had the years I had with you. I miss you so much. I love you.

I saw him

At the gas station. He was in front of me. I couldn't see his face, just his back. It looked just like his back. It hit me smack in the face. I wanted to reach out & touch him. This man. This stranger. Next thing I know I'm driving down the road, sobbing, trying to see with blurry eyes, tears streaming. I stopped at his grave and just sat on the grass and cried till my chest started physically hurting. Burning pain. Just when you think you have a handle on your life, the grief, it jumps out at you. I miss him so much, moments like these make me wonder how I have been able to breathe as long as I have without him. Just to touch his face. His arm. His hand. His toes. Anything. Just to see him in the flesh. As I sat on the grass crying looking at his name chiseled in the headstone, I kept thinking "He's right beneath my feet. Right under me." So close. Yet he's not. Then as I left the cemetery I found myself behind a bus. Still crying I noticed the number on the bus. 13. Our number. Usually these little signs bring me comfort. Not today. I cried harder. I don't want signs. I want him. That's all I want. Just bring him home God.

Memory Scents

It's funny how certain scents remain with you. Sometimes for a lifetime. I have many memory scents. When I use one of my favorite body sprays, Pomegranate Apple, it takes me back to the first time I smelled it. I was at our favorite Chinese restaurant waiting to pick up our food. For some reason I was always selected to go pick it up. It was early summer time. A lady came in wearing the scent and it smelled so good on her I had to ask her what it was. She told me and said she got it at CVS. So of course on the way home I had to make one last stop to buy some. Now every time I wear it, I go back to that day when he was alive & waiting for me to return home with our dinner. The scent of pines always take me back to my childhood. In May we always went to the U.P. to visit my grandparents. We had wood swings tied with rope to a very tall beautiful pine tree. When I smell pine, I feel like I am under that tree, swinging, with not a care in the world. The smell of a gas powered small engine running, such as my rototiller, makes me think of snowmobiling as a kid. My Dad & his brothers were snowmobile men. We rode in the winter a lot, me hanging on tight to my Dad, the smell from the engine drifting back to me. The scent of burning metal makes me think of the many times I would catch Ted under a car torching off bolts & things, sparks flying everywhere and him with no goggles or safety protection at all. I would watch him doing what he loved & tell him he was going to get hurt. His response was to turn his torch up higher. I think my absolute favorite memory scent is coconut shampoo. Every single time I use it, I drift back to my little trailer I had. I loved that trailer. It was old, falling apart and had many weak spots on the floor through out. But it was mine. Money borrowed and paid back, it was my very first home. I raised my older son there, just him and I for five years. It had an enclosed porch that I loved to sit on and watch the sunsets in the field behind us. Many happy memories from that time. Rough, lonely, struggling years, but still happy. That was when I first discovered the coconut shampoo because it was cheap. I'm glad I have memory scents. Sometimes when we just need a little break from the day to day struggles, it's nice to go back in time and smell the .......

The Cuddler

I read an article about a woman who is being criticized for her new profession and business she created. She is a professional cuddler. People pay her a set rate and she will lay in bed with them and cuddle. No sex, just cuddling. A warm arm around you all night if you have the money. I so get this need. There are many things I miss about him but the loss of his touch is hard. A simple hug from the one you know loves you more than anything is worth so much. It can't compare to hugs from your kids or parents or the sweet ladies at church. It just can't. The loss of just being able to come home and tell him about your crappy day, even if he doesn't see your point of view. I email him occasionally. They never come back as undeliverable so I like to think he gets them. I used to call his cell phone just so I could listen to his message but eventually I did let his service cancel. Then one day I had forgot and called his number. My heart stopped. A man answered. I hung up. So a few days ago I texted him. I just wanted to tell him I love him. I miss his companionship. I miss loving him and having him love me back. I have discovered in the last few months one thing I thought was impossible. There is room enough in my heart for him and someone else. Which I'm relieved to know. It doesn't mean I have to forget him. He is part of the woman I am today. I was so blessed to have my own cuddler for so many years, I wish I had appreciated it more. Hmmmm a cuddler. Would be nice but I would settle for paying someone to at least rub my feet for an hour.

47

Had he lived he would have turned 47 years old today. Today is his birthday. So much drama and stress in my life right now I could barely think straight today. I felt distant. We did release some balloons and have cupcakes with the family. I like to hear the kids as they watch the balloons climb higher and higher in the sky and yell "Happy Birthday"! Was finally able to go to his grave just before dark and as I sat on the bench I wanted to cry but just felt empty. Drained. I miss making a cake for him. Buying his present. Making a fuss over him. Making him feel special. I just miss him. I wish I could have put myself in the balloon and floated off high in the sky to find him. I like to think he gets our balloons with all of our messages of love. I looked at the group of people who stood in the field watching until the balloons were a tiny speck. Just a handful of us but what more could you ask for after you're gone? I hope I have at least a few people remembering me. He was a good man. A kind man. A loved man. Happy Birthday Ted! I love you!

The Raccoon vs. The Wids

This is why I love my job. A call came in at work yesterday. The woman sounded distraught. A raccoon had got into the attic of a rental home she owned and she wanted to know if the clean up was covered. I told her I would get back with her. After pulling her file and talking with a co worker about it I called her and advised her to possibly find someone to help her do this. As she clearly became more upset I asked if she had seen the damage. She said no she didn't know where to look to get in the attic. I suggested possibly her husband could find this. She began crying. She told me she didn't have a husband. She was a widow. With three kids. My heart melted. I can't count how many times people have said to me "Why doesn't your husband do this?" "Well, maybe because he is buried in a box in the ground and just can't get out at the moment" is what I feel like saying but don't. I know people don't know. But when you are having one of those days where everything falls apart, as she clearly was, even a simple question like that can get the grief waves to start rolling. So we talked. I asked her how long since he died. She said 7 years. My heart sunk again. All I could think was I do not want to be there in 7 years. I want to love again. Be married again. Share my life again. If it's in God's plans. So the wheels in my head began to spin. I told her I didn't want her to worry about this the rest of the day. To just relax. I would call her tomorrow and we would get this taken care of. So my intentions this morning were to call her, meet her at the house with my ladder, flashlight, shop vac and a mask and see what this little creature has done to her attic. When I called she sounded so much better. She said she had called her Dad and father-in-law and they were going to help her. I told her I was ready if they couldn't. I told her to call me anytime day or night if she just needed an understanding ear from someone who truly gets it. I said I am sure you're husband is very proud of the job you are doing. She said I think he is too. I hated the word widow for a long time. I couldn't even bring myself to say it. Sometime around the one year mark, it became a part of me. That word is like a badge. Of courage. Of strength. Of resilience. Of love. In my mind it says My husband did not leave me, walk out on me, divorce me. He died in the middle of our marriage. I was loved, respected, adored by someone. I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed and rather looking forward to climbing up in the attic and helping her. Doesn't matter though. The Wids won, hands down.

29 months

Anxiety with me all day long. Heart racing. It was a Friday 29 months ago. By this time he was already gone. Laying on a table in the hospital, body cold, as I rubbed & kissed his face & still kept hoping for a miracle. I look back and wish I had done more. More holding his hand, cooking his favorite meal, rubbing his feet, telling him I loved him, praying with him. But for each of the regrets there are twice as many things I am grateful for. His love, his trust, his devotion to us, the financial stability he provided, his humor, his intelligence, his desire to take care of his family. A lady at church recently lost her husband. They were married over 60 years. She said to me God has given her peace about his death. For the first time since he died I realized I think I have some of that peace. I still cry, I still miss him, but I know he's not scared anymore. He's not in pain anymore. And that gives me peace. God has helped me travel this long road and I have discovered many things about myself along the way. I am strong, I have more faith than I ever thought I had, I am smarter than I gave myself credit for. I think Ted would be proud of me. That I didn't give up. That I kept getting up and doing what needed to be done. 29 months. A long time yet just yesterday in memory.

That Old Anxious Feeling

The anxiety is creeping back. Too many issues at hand draining me. Sucking my energy out. My heart has been racing all day, crying on & off all day. Feels like I can't get air in my lungs. I think I am on track and headed in the right direction, then BAM! I realize it won't work. Then one phone call sets my stomach in knots. This whole week has been a nightmare of emotions. Why can't people treat other people with love and respect and kindness? I just don't understand why people can't see what they have in front of their faces and just be grateful for it. Look up at the skies and thank the good Lord for what you have! People give up too easy. Don't want to make the effort. I'm tired, oh so tired. Just want to lay down. I hear Ted now. "Then lay down. Stop worrying about everyone else." He saw things so differently. How do you get things to work when it seems hopeless? Pray. Then pray some more. Then pray even more. It's all I can do right now.

Still surreal

So I'm driving in my car. Talking with my son about video games and laughing. I suddenly have a thought flash in my head that this was wrong. How can it be possible to laugh and talk about normal every day stuff when Ted has died? It just felt so strange and bad. Sometimes I just feel like I slip backwards to the first few months. We went & saw "their" movie, Iron Man 3. When the song would come on the radio, Ted would turn it up loud & they would jam out, just the two of them. Of course I was excluded from seeing the first two movies, it was a guy movie, I was told. So it felt kind of strange to take him to see it. But I am glad I did. Sitting there in the theater, in a spot they would have sat in, half way through the movie, I swear I suddenly smelled his cologne. For a few brief seconds I inhaled & could smell him. Then it was gone. So naturally I cried silent tears on the way home. Thinking the What If's. What if he wasn't dead. I would be at home, enjoying the peace and quiet. They would stop at McDonald's and pick up dinner. He might call and ask me what I wanted. Or he might just surprise me. They would come in, excited, talking about how good the movie was. Ted always picked up on one phrase from the movies he would see and then for months afterwards, I would listen to them both use "the phrase", for every situation. I'm glad I can at least now, smile at those memories instead of break down in sobs. But it still hurts.