A heavy heart

It's a Saturday morning...GiGi is at work and I am sitting on the couch wondering what the hell has happened in my life.

I have a steaming cup of Salted Caramel coffee at hand and my laptop on me knees and I'm looking through the many job boards I have on my desktop...I'm coming to realize I'm not qualified for much.  I am not a nurse, I am not a physician, a social worker or a teacher.  Nor am I a truck driver...the boards are loaded with opportunities for these fields, but not much else.

I saw some listings for Fall River, so then in my head I was hearing how you used to say it and then I am crying...crying for you David.  Asking what happened and where are you.  I know this is real, I know you are gone and won't be walking through the door ever again, but my heart is really struggling with accepting it all. 

I can't stop seeing you that day babe...the last moments of your life are burned into my eyes and my brain and it's tearing me apart each and every day. Don't get me wrong, I've traveled far but that doesn't mean what people think it does.  It only means I have learned how to walk these many many miles carrying tons of hurt and pain.  The alternative I guess would have been to lay there and let it bury me.  Well, I didn't do that.  I got up and figured out how to put one foot in front of the other with the weight of the world on my back. It's so damn hard and so damn exhausting.  Many days I don't think I can do it for one more freaking second, the thought of doing this forever is so overwhelming and that in itself wants to bring me to my knees.

The mask I wear... the smile you see, the steps I take, it's not genuine.  This grief threads itself through every aspect of my life and right now my life is just about going through the motions of getting through the day.   I have to remind myself to breath all the time, something I never paid attention to before...now it's all I can think of.  Everything is a huge and tremendous effort.  I'm afraid all the time.  How do I return to my life, clean the house, cook the meals, pay the bills, make the decisions, help the kids...it all feels like the most torturous task ever.

I have never been afraid of being alone, I had my life in good working order...A home, a small but steady income, family...now everything is upside down and it's very frightening.  Now everything is just so very upside down...

Well, I guess that was my boo hoo session for today.  I'm sorry to burden you with it all but it's your job...you have to listen to me and you have to love me no matter what, right?!?  Please send me strength to continue babe, I seem to need it now more than ever.  What I thought would get easier only gets harder.

I love love love you - Me

The Ride

As I do every day, I check the posts on the Widows bereavement sites I am a member on...there are two of them.  

Some days there is nothing said.  All is calm?  Maybe.  Hopefully.  But I know that it could also mean that today is just too much, today is so very overwhelming that there are no words...oh, they're in there.  The words are in there, flying around our heads slamming against the edges of our minds wanting out...needing out.  But the pain is too great today to let the words come.

Some days one of us, or several of us, has reached out for comfort or advice or just to share a milestone, a thought, a prayer.  And some days there is a new 'recruit', a new member to the club none of us signed up for or ever wanted to be a part of...some days there is just that tentative, bleeding sentence that says something like 'I just lost...I just found this group...thank you for listening'.  And just like that we remember we are not alone even though ALONE is the second strongest feeling we women, we widows, feel.

Today there was a post from a new member to the group, a woman who joined the 'club' only three months ago...She is wondering if any of us has ever gone through what she is going through the last few days...no crying...no living, just existing,  sleeping yet waking exhausted. Working...chores...bed, working...chores...bed...is this a phase she wants to know.  Those of us a little, or a lot further along in the journey know it is not a phase.  It is just another kind of day, or several smooshed together to create a 'phase'.  It is delicate territory.  It is a welcome reprieve, it is a survival technique that our body knows is desperately needed at precisely this moment.  It is a day or a few given to us in order to take a deep breath, get our bearings, readjust.  It is just enough time to grab hold and climb up a little further on our journey, enough time to grab hold before the ride begins again.

It's not a phase, I tell her..."it's just the ride. Not a car ride either. It is what I would think a roller coaster would be like if I had ever been on one...great highs, fast and furious lows with lots of sharp yanks around every corner. On this ride I never know what each day will bring, a high, a low, a rough corner? I open my eyes and try to gauge but can't, I head to the kitchen for coffee almost in fear sometimes...is an arm going to reach out and pull me back down to where I have just worked so hard to climb up from? Am I going to be yanked around a corner I'm not ready for? All I can do is hold on and hold strong. There is a very good reason that at age 47 I have never put myself on a roller coaster, that kind of ride is not for me...yet here I am. Thrust on here by a horrific tragic event that lasted no more than 10 minutes. I have been sentenced to a lifetime of this ride I never wanted and all I can do is hold on, hold strong and learn how to get my feet back on solid ground once again while life spins around me at such a fast and furious pace. I do not believe it to be a phase you are in...I believe it to just be the ride you are on...you are not alone though, all of us here are sitting in the seats next to you, in front of you and behind you, and we say to you hold on tight sister..."

August 7th

Extreme highs
Immensely low lows
lost time 
lost love
lost
lost
lost
smiling 
then not
crying
then not
alone
but not
yet am
breathing
but not
alive
yet not
but trying

I'm trying love, and I'm doing, and I'm inching my way through.  I just pray you will be by my side through this journey, you said you would be by my side for the rest of my life...I know I can't see you now, but I hope you are still there.

I love you David and I miss you big.