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.

Cracking

I feel as if could crack at any moment. I try to keep it together but I am teetering on the edge. School starting soon and I know I must put on a happy face. Just so tired.

No Change

So things are still the same. How do you make change? How do you create a new path, new journey from the one you were on for the last 12 years? I do not know. I think i am trying only to realize I have not made any progress. I miss him. I cry for him. I cry for our son and what he has lost. I have flashbacks of that night. Yet I get up, go to work, buy groceries, make appointments. Do what needs to be done. I need a new path. Soon.

Empty

I feel so empty. Void. I am functioning. Doing things automatically. I may smile. I may laugh. But deep down inside I am just empty. I want to feel again. I want to feel like there is a point to life. I don't know how to make a new life without him. How do you go on? I feel as if life and our routine is the same. I think I want change. But I am terrified of change. No one gets it. I am not being selfish when I say I want to die. Part of me has died. People really really do not understand the depth and connection of what my husband and I shared. I could never harm myself. But I have a right to feel as if I don't want to exist anymore. I want to be better for my family. My little boy. I just don't know how. I miss him. The very depths of my soul just can't take it anymore. I feel so panicky today. Anxiety. I want to run but I don't know where. I want to.... I don't know what I want. It changes from one second to the next. I pray. I beg God to help me. I know I am not the first person to ever lose a spouse. I don't want to live the rest of my life in such a sorrowful state. I just can't climb out of this hole. I can't breathe when I think of him sitting in the chair, dying. I don't want to think of it but I know I must. I just want my husband to come home.

Run Forest Run

That is how I feel tonight. Like a caged animal. Like I could just get up & run & never look back. I want change. I crave change. Yet change scares me. Makes me feel like I am erasing him with the new change. I feel as if my heart will explode from the pain. I want to scream HELP ME! But there is no one to hear me. I want someone, anyone to call me so they can just listen as I cry & ask WHY. But no one does & I am too prideful to reach out. Don't want to be a burden. Don't want to bother people. But people need to know I am not better. I am still in so much turmoil. I feel as if the whole world is crashing down. I just want him home. I HATE my life. Absolutely HATE it! When is it going to get better? When will I feel like I have direction? I am inpatient. I want it now. But I know I must do the work. Feel the pain. I just don't know where to turn, what to think, what to do. I just want my old life back. NOW.

6 months backwards

Why am I going backwards? Why is this grief consuming me? Over a week now & I can't take another day. Crying, looking at his picture, hitting myself because I can't take the pain anymore. His garage makes me ache. His things make me sad yet I can't let them be removed. I just feel so lost. Where are you? I asked him this morning as I was driving to work if he could see what he was doing to me. What he did to me by not taking care of himself. By dying! I can't breathe without him. But somehow I know that I am. It's just not fair. I want to move far away. I want to stay here in our home filled with memories. Am I going crazy? Have I already got there? I cry out to Jesus to help me. This pain must be what God felt as He watched His only son being crucified. Just come home Ted. I changed the doorknob & got a new set of keys and for a moment I was worried because if I changed it he wouldn't be able to open the door. But then I thought "he doesn't have his keys anyway. I have them."

Reality FaceBook

I am going to create a new social media connection site for those of us who might sometimes just want to be real & let people know exactly what we are feeling. No more "My son is so great. He got a promotion!" Instead it will be "My son quit his 4th job in 3 months and I am tired of helping to pay his bills to help support him, his wife & 5 kids " Or instead of "I love sitting on my deck watching my hubby do yard work" it will be " I hate doing yard work while my hubby's body rots & decomposes in a casket in the ground"
16 months later & I feel like it is starting all over again. I hate the warm weather because everyone is outside. I just want to hibernate in my house & never come out. But when you have children you are not allowed that option. When will it get easier? I cry & beg God to just bring him home but it still isn't happening. I want to be happy again. I want to live again. I just don't know how to get past this pain. This horrible pain. Eyes burning, puffy & red today as I have been crying for 2 days. Where are you Ted? I need you here with me. You don't belong in Heaven. You belong right here next to me and our son.

Friday Night Trans

So my main vehicle's trans starts acting up, took it in, had to have it rebuilt, cost much more than I can afford but there was no choice. So I picked it up today and as the guy is explaining what they did to it all I could think of was my wonderful husband and if he were here I would not be standing there. He would have done it himself. Of course I started crying & then told the trans shop guy about my husband, his mechanical abilities & that he passed away 13 months ago. To which he replied "Oh I am so sorry. Your pain is still raw" I was surprised. He was actually the 2nd person this week that had that same mentality. The other comment was that it was still fresh. It's nice to know not everyone thinks you get a year to grieve & then you should "be over it". I miss him. Everything about him was perfect. I wish I would have told him more often.

It's Different

I hate New Years. Every year we ring in the New Year and I just never liked it. Change. It's the change into another year. It was bearable with Ted. He made it ok but I still wasn't fond of it. But this year I really felt nothing. It doesn't matter anymore. 2011. 2012. It is all the same. Empty. He is not here. He wasn't here in 2011. he won't be here in 2012. Who cares anymore? I am dealing with the biggest change in my life and a simple tiny thing like changing into another year is nothing. I miss him so much. I hurt for my little boy when he has his meltdowns. He misses his Daddy more than anyone will ever know. I wish I could take his pain away at least. But I can't. He needs to feel it. In order to heal. Even after 12 months and 23 days it still hurts just as bad and still seems like its not real.

Crazy Train

That is how I feel. So many thoughts running through my head. I want to be a better mom. I don't want to be sad anymore. I don't want this grief anymore. But it's mine. It belongs only to me. Ted can have it back. If he was here right now I would be letting him have it! That's not really true. I would beg him to hold me. Just hold me. My mind is screaming. Is the pain I feel in my chest as I sit on the floor & pound my fists into anything the same pain he felt as he sat in my chair dying? I can't breathe. I have not one single person in my life that I feel like I can call late at night as my body is curled into a ball and the tears pour out of my eyes. Why? It has been a year. Shouldn't I feel a bit better? I feel madness. I try to go through the day to day routine. I smile. People say how are you? I say I'm getting by. Fake. Its all fake. If I felt like they really wanted to know I would tell them. How can you tell them when its a short brief conversation in passing? Crazy. That's how it goes.I'm going off the rails on the crazy train. I just want to be healed. I pray & beg God to help me. I just want my life back. I feel like a complainer. So many others have it worse than me. So how do I get through this god awful grief? When all I want is to stop feeling. Anything. Except his love. I would give anything to touch his face. Just to touch him. See him smile and look at me the way he used to.

One Year

It is so very hard to believe he has been gone for one whole year. I still feel like he could walk in the door at any moment. His coat & boots are right where he left them. His wallet & change still sit on his dresser. I pull out his clothes once in awhile to smell or just breathe in the faint traces of him. Yesterday was harder than today because it was a Friday. He died on a Friday. So my son & I made cupcakes & took to our local fire department. It was very healing for me because I think I have held a grudge against the paramedics/firemen that came that night. Feeling as if they didn't get there fast enough. I felt a sense of renewing wash over me as I hugged the 2 firemen that were on duty last night. They weren't the same ones but it didn't matter. They said they would make sure those 2 firemen got the card & tell them we came by. They let my son climb in the trucks & ambulance & they let me talk. It was good. I miss him so very much. So tonight we will mark this date with a celebration of his life. I hope many people will be here to remember him with us. I can't help but think of tomorrow also. Now that my year of firsts are over, what next? I see a long tiring road ahead of me. I miss you & love you my husband Ted.