God, how I wish I could have just one more day. One more day to make sure he KNOWS how much I love him. How much I NEED him. <cue ugly cry on the drive to work this morning>
I can't count the times
I almost said what's on my mind
But I didn't
Just the other day
I wrote down all the things I'd say
But I couldn't
I just couldn't
Baby I know that you've been wondering
so here goes nothing
IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW
BABY I'M CRAZY BOUT YOU
AND I WOULD BE LYING IF I SAID
THAT I COULD LIVE THIS LIFE WITHOUT YOU
EVEN THOUGH I <DIDN'T> TELL YOU ALL THE TIME
YOU HAD MY HEART A LONG LONG TIME AGO
IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G21h08qrbss
I have life decisions that need to be made...in particular, a potential job change, a pour-over will, deciding custody of our children if/when something should happen to me and investing the blood money. (Yes, I think of it as blood money). And there is NO ONE here to help me through these decisions. No one to tell me I'm crazy...to offer a different perspective....to reassure me that everything will be ok. No one to tell me that they'll support me in whatever decision I make. No one to plan a future with. It's just me....standing at the end of a limb wondering if I should cling to it or take the leap.
In case you didn't know....I'm feeling a bit lost and abandoned these days.
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Friday, August 19, 2016
Stuck in the middle
It seems to be an ongoing battle...caring what someone else thinks and not giving a rat's ass what their opinion is. Right now, I'm stuck in the middle.
There was a time...that seems so very long ago, that I told Sam that she was like the older sister I never had. That when I needed to cry and vent, I could go to her. That I could depend on her for anything and knew she'd always be there. She was there when I miscarried, she was there when we lost Will and she was there...kind of...when I lost Sam. But somewhere in losing him, I seem to have acquired a backbone of steel and that has pushed her away. You know....because I called her out on stealing stuff from my garage and then didn't fall into her trap of trying to turn it back on me.
The stealing confrontation was almost a year ago and we haven't been on good terms since. I try not to let it bother me. It takes far too much energy and really....she isn't worth my time. It's become apparent to me that she's only "there for me" when it makes her look good. When there are other people around to see it and she thinks it makes her look important. Like an outstanding SIL and Aunt to the girls. But when push comes to shove....if it's not about her, if it's not her idea or if it doesn't benefit her in any way, she's not interested.
So why do I care? Why do I care that she doesn't message me anymore during the day to vent or share frustrations? Why do I care that she doesn't "like" my FB posts anymore...even when they are of her ridiculously cute nieces (yes, I'm biased). Why do I care that she didn't wish me a happy mother's day? That she(they) didn't make it a priority to be at DD2's birthday party or any of the girls' events this summer? Well...that last one is easy to explain. I care about that because Sam and I spent HOURS of time coaching their kids, following them OUT OF STATE to support them in their events all in anticipation that the support would be returned. Foolish, apparently.
But the rest of it? Why do I let it bother me? It's not like I need her approval or acceptance. I'm a grown adult trying to raise two girls...I don't need a caretaker. I have strong relationships with many friends, with my family, with my MIL. I have a successful, flexible career that provides for us without assistance from anyone. I have resilient kids who like to be busy, active and involved. I'm taken my health and fitness into my own hands and it has empowered me to try to be better, everyday.
But it does bother me. I stalk the "likes" on my posts to see if she (or him) has supported it. And when their name doesn't show up in a list of 100+...disappointment and resentment sets in.
WHY?
I think, at the core, it's because I feel cheated and deceived. Deceived into thinking that I had a sister-like relationship in her and cheated out of the time we spent supporting their family when it's obviously not going to be returned. I feel taken advantage of and it pisses me off.
But maybe, just maybe, they are resentful of me. Because I, obviously, don't NEED them to survive this life. I don't NEED them to coddle me. I've become very self-sufficient. I'm a goal-digger, decision-maker and I do what needs to be done. Is that the problem? That they feel left out of the life I was supposed to have? And if that's the case....how do I bridge the gap without being the one to continuously extend the olive branch? Because, honestly, I'm tired of trying to repair a relationship that has so many weak links. I'm tired of putting myself out there only to be stabbed in the back, once again.
There was a time...that seems so very long ago, that I told Sam that she was like the older sister I never had. That when I needed to cry and vent, I could go to her. That I could depend on her for anything and knew she'd always be there. She was there when I miscarried, she was there when we lost Will and she was there...kind of...when I lost Sam. But somewhere in losing him, I seem to have acquired a backbone of steel and that has pushed her away. You know....because I called her out on stealing stuff from my garage and then didn't fall into her trap of trying to turn it back on me.
The stealing confrontation was almost a year ago and we haven't been on good terms since. I try not to let it bother me. It takes far too much energy and really....she isn't worth my time. It's become apparent to me that she's only "there for me" when it makes her look good. When there are other people around to see it and she thinks it makes her look important. Like an outstanding SIL and Aunt to the girls. But when push comes to shove....if it's not about her, if it's not her idea or if it doesn't benefit her in any way, she's not interested.
So why do I care? Why do I care that she doesn't message me anymore during the day to vent or share frustrations? Why do I care that she doesn't "like" my FB posts anymore...even when they are of her ridiculously cute nieces (yes, I'm biased). Why do I care that she didn't wish me a happy mother's day? That she(they) didn't make it a priority to be at DD2's birthday party or any of the girls' events this summer? Well...that last one is easy to explain. I care about that because Sam and I spent HOURS of time coaching their kids, following them OUT OF STATE to support them in their events all in anticipation that the support would be returned. Foolish, apparently.
But the rest of it? Why do I let it bother me? It's not like I need her approval or acceptance. I'm a grown adult trying to raise two girls...I don't need a caretaker. I have strong relationships with many friends, with my family, with my MIL. I have a successful, flexible career that provides for us without assistance from anyone. I have resilient kids who like to be busy, active and involved. I'm taken my health and fitness into my own hands and it has empowered me to try to be better, everyday.But it does bother me. I stalk the "likes" on my posts to see if she (or him) has supported it. And when their name doesn't show up in a list of 100+...disappointment and resentment sets in.
WHY?
I think, at the core, it's because I feel cheated and deceived. Deceived into thinking that I had a sister-like relationship in her and cheated out of the time we spent supporting their family when it's obviously not going to be returned. I feel taken advantage of and it pisses me off.
But maybe, just maybe, they are resentful of me. Because I, obviously, don't NEED them to survive this life. I don't NEED them to coddle me. I've become very self-sufficient. I'm a goal-digger, decision-maker and I do what needs to be done. Is that the problem? That they feel left out of the life I was supposed to have? And if that's the case....how do I bridge the gap without being the one to continuously extend the olive branch? Because, honestly, I'm tired of trying to repair a relationship that has so many weak links. I'm tired of putting myself out there only to be stabbed in the back, once again.
Monday, August 1, 2016
They're Back
They're back. The vivid, real-life dreams that leave me breathless and yearning for more only to wake up to find myself back in reality. The dreams that live in the back of my mind for two days later...tugging at my heart and my memories. The ones that threaten to send my mood into a downward spiral. The ones that make me feel like maybe he really is here with us.
Two nights ago: We were at a party, pre-kids. And by party...I mean we were hanging out at a friends' house me patiently waiting for the beer supply to dwindle so we could go home. He didn't get obnoxiously drunk often, but when he did...oh boy. And it was like that this night. Emotions were high...he got pissy and stalked off. And we didn't speak for a couple hours. And then I approached him and heard myself say, "I can't do this" to which he replied "me either." And he kissed me with such passion. I swear I could feel his lips...feel his touch, smell his cologne. And I could see him plain as day, sitting in front of me in his old brown pickup. And then it was gone. I was awake...alone in bed and wanting more. Wishing for everything I had to be able to mutter those words "I can't do this" and have him come racing back to me.
And so I've sat and stewed about it and felt sorry for myself for the last two days. Felt sorry for the girls who are missing out on knowing this fantastic man. Felt sorry for myself for having to face the rest of this life, alone.
Two nights ago: We were at a party, pre-kids. And by party...I mean we were hanging out at a friends' house me patiently waiting for the beer supply to dwindle so we could go home. He didn't get obnoxiously drunk often, but when he did...oh boy. And it was like that this night. Emotions were high...he got pissy and stalked off. And we didn't speak for a couple hours. And then I approached him and heard myself say, "I can't do this" to which he replied "me either." And he kissed me with such passion. I swear I could feel his lips...feel his touch, smell his cologne. And I could see him plain as day, sitting in front of me in his old brown pickup. And then it was gone. I was awake...alone in bed and wanting more. Wishing for everything I had to be able to mutter those words "I can't do this" and have him come racing back to me.
And so I've sat and stewed about it and felt sorry for myself for the last two days. Felt sorry for the girls who are missing out on knowing this fantastic man. Felt sorry for myself for having to face the rest of this life, alone.
Thursday, May 26, 2016
Anniversary
Tuesday, May 24th, should have been my 8-year wedding anniversary. Instead, it was one day past the 16-month mark of my husband's death. And so Tuesday was just another ordinary day with the added sparkle of tears, pressure of heartache and thoughts of what should be. It's been a LONG time since I've had the sparkle of tears in my eyes consistently throughout the day.
Saturday May 24, 2008 was a rainy, cold and overcast day. We shuffled in and out of the hairdresser under rain coats and umbrellas. Dresses were transported to the church in double-layer garment bags and plastic. And then the clouds parted and gave way to the most beautiful late afternoon sun I think I have ever seen. I had insisted on pictures before the ceremony and our timing couldn't have been better. My photographers (two friends) captured these images of us as I was "revealed" to my soon-to-be-husband.
And these are the things I remembered about my soulmate, best friend, lover and the father of my children on what should have been my 8th anniversary. There were no last-minute runs to town for the card he forgot to buy ahead of time. No card telling me how much he loved me, how much more "action" he wanted or telling me that "as long as we have each other, we can make it through anything, Babe." Nothing. There was laundry and dishes and fighting toddlers and the sparkle of tears in the deafening silence and loneliness that surrounded me. Hell, my own family didn't acknowledge that it was my anniversary. (His did, by the way, which was a welcome surprise). Just another day in single-mommy widowhood. I try so hard to try to remind myself of this part of our vows when I'm struggling.
Saturday May 24, 2008 was a rainy, cold and overcast day. We shuffled in and out of the hairdresser under rain coats and umbrellas. Dresses were transported to the church in double-layer garment bags and plastic. And then the clouds parted and gave way to the most beautiful late afternoon sun I think I have ever seen. I had insisted on pictures before the ceremony and our timing couldn't have been better. My photographers (two friends) captured these images of us as I was "revealed" to my soon-to-be-husband.
For MONTHS prior, I had made multiple trips to multiple dress shops searching for the perfect one. And he had complained. After all, it was "only a dress." But I will never forget how he looked in my eyes, told me I was beautiful and that I had found the perfect dress. He made me feel like a million bucks.
Our ceremony was small and simple. My sisters as bridesmaids, his brother and best friend as groomsmen. We chose the shortened (still too long in his opinion) Catholic ceremony and it was perfect. The emotion I felt feel for this man is unsurpassed.
He wasn't one to express emotion freely, but on our wedding day he told me countless times how happy he was, how much he loved me and how excited he was to share the rest of our lives. I know he was happy...and now I pray that he died a happy man.
I haven't felt the level of happy shown in this picture in just over 16 months. Sure, the girls and I have had many happy moments but it's a different kind of happy, you know? Sam and I were perfect for each other. Marriage was easy. Don't get me wrong, we had our little spats but very few knock-down-drag-outs. Because we understood each other, had the same values and beliefs, agreed on budgeting and child-raising and all those big-ticket items the experts say cause divorce. I can't count how many times we remarked that we were lucky to have each other and not go through some of the fights our friends were experiencing.
I have always been a serious, no time for silliness, person. But somehow, Sam was always able to break through that and help me let go and have FUN. Again...none of that FUN for me in far too long. He was a big kid at heart, always joking and teasing to the point of being irritating but loveable. He didn't hold grudges, loved wholly and laughed easily.
And these are the things I remembered about my soulmate, best friend, lover and the father of my children on what should have been my 8th anniversary. There were no last-minute runs to town for the card he forgot to buy ahead of time. No card telling me how much he loved me, how much more "action" he wanted or telling me that "as long as we have each other, we can make it through anything, Babe." Nothing. There was laundry and dishes and fighting toddlers and the sparkle of tears in the deafening silence and loneliness that surrounded me. Hell, my own family didn't acknowledge that it was my anniversary. (His did, by the way, which was a welcome surprise). Just another day in single-mommy widowhood. I try so hard to try to remind myself of this part of our vows when I'm struggling.
Yes, faith, hope and love remain. But it's not the same. And I'm not sure it ever will be.
Sunday, May 15, 2016
Then what?
It's times like right now that send me into a tailspin. Times when the girls are at a sleepover with Grandma, the house is eerily quiet and I'm here by myself. A million things to do, yet hardly any ambition. Times when I finally let out that seemingly endless breath of air I constantly hold and just sit. And think. What am I going to do with my life?
Will I always be alone? Do I want to be alone? Do I want the girls to grow up without a constant father-figure in their lives? It is so very apparent at get-togethers that they relish the attention of other Dads...their friends and Uncles. But we do ok on our own, I think? Do I want to try to incorporate an "outsiders" point of view into my child-rearing, plan-making and daily routine? Do I want to sit here, by myself, when the girls have graduated and moved out...wondering what to do with myself?
I don't think I want to be alone, but I don't seem able to open myself up to anyone. I'm guarding our hearts and being selfish with my space and my time. I don't want to have to consider relocating (because it's not even a consideration), leaving my home to move elsewhere in town, disrupting the girls' lives as they know it yet again. And those are selfish thoughts to have in a relationship. So...it's just easier if I don't allow the relationship.
But then what? You know, it really sucks to have nobody to discuss the future with. Make plans with, spend time with, lounge around the house with. And there will come a day (all too soon), that the girls will be off doing their own things, with their own friends and I'll be left here alone, again, with no little girls constantly underfoot. Then what? What am I going to do with myself?
Will I always be alone? Do I want to be alone? Do I want the girls to grow up without a constant father-figure in their lives? It is so very apparent at get-togethers that they relish the attention of other Dads...their friends and Uncles. But we do ok on our own, I think? Do I want to try to incorporate an "outsiders" point of view into my child-rearing, plan-making and daily routine? Do I want to sit here, by myself, when the girls have graduated and moved out...wondering what to do with myself?
I don't think I want to be alone, but I don't seem able to open myself up to anyone. I'm guarding our hearts and being selfish with my space and my time. I don't want to have to consider relocating (because it's not even a consideration), leaving my home to move elsewhere in town, disrupting the girls' lives as they know it yet again. And those are selfish thoughts to have in a relationship. So...it's just easier if I don't allow the relationship.
But then what? You know, it really sucks to have nobody to discuss the future with. Make plans with, spend time with, lounge around the house with. And there will come a day (all too soon), that the girls will be off doing their own things, with their own friends and I'll be left here alone, again, with no little girls constantly underfoot. Then what? What am I going to do with myself?
Friday, January 29, 2016
One Year
We did it. We've made it an entire year (plus a week now) without him. How can it be? Time has gone so fast...yet so slow. It seems like yesterday that I opened my door to a County Sheriff and it seems like forever since I felt the touch of my husband. It's like living in two worlds. One that keeps pushing me forward and another that longs for the past.
I'm not sure what I was expecting with this "angelversary." I know others were expecting a major meltdown from me, an epiphany of some sorts, some major life change. But it wasn't major, for me anyway. I mean...it's not like I don't think about this every minute of every day. The one-year mark is just another day on the calendar without him. It isn't some benchmark of the grieving process or some goal that says, "hey...time to move on!" It's just another day. And that's what I made it for me and the girls. Just another Saturday watching their cousins play soccer, some grocery shopping and our Saturday evening movie.
I think for Laura, though, it meant more. My little three year-old is very intuitive and in the days leading up to the angelversary, started asking some really hard questions with information I've never given her. I don't know where she came up with it...but she knows more than she probably realizes. And she is S.T.R.U.G.G.L.I.N.G.
Why couldn't the doctors fix him?
Why did Daddy like the ice?
He needed a boat to help him Mama!
How many owies did he have?
He just needed a band-aid...a really big band-aid!
Why did the ice break?
Why can't he come back?
Why can't we go to Heaven? Will you take me someday Mama?
I miss my Daddy. I just want to give him a super big hug.
And this conversation happens every night, as we're going to bed. (Yes, we're co-sleeping...all 3 of us. No advice needed.) I want to shield her from the pain, but refuse to hide the truth. So I answer as simply and best I can...and a lot of times, my answer is "I don't know, punkin." And we both have a breakdown, a release of tears and emotion and fall asleep in each other's arms. I know the questions will keep coming, with more detail each time...until she can somehow find resolution and peace in her little heart.
People still ask how we're doing. The answer is still "ok...fine...hanging in there" or some other variation that slides out of my mouth. The truth? See above. It's a daily struggle. Often times, it's like standing outside a window watching everyone's lives go on while mine is at a standstill. The world is one big blur moving around me, no decision is ever easy and it's lonely. So very lonely. And until you are wearing these shoes, you don't understand how there can be people surrounding you...and it's still lonely.
But when we lost Will, I promised Sam that I wouldn't give up...give up on me, us, our plans, our future. And I'm doing my best to hold true to that promise.
I'm not sure what I was expecting with this "angelversary." I know others were expecting a major meltdown from me, an epiphany of some sorts, some major life change. But it wasn't major, for me anyway. I mean...it's not like I don't think about this every minute of every day. The one-year mark is just another day on the calendar without him. It isn't some benchmark of the grieving process or some goal that says, "hey...time to move on!" It's just another day. And that's what I made it for me and the girls. Just another Saturday watching their cousins play soccer, some grocery shopping and our Saturday evening movie.
I think for Laura, though, it meant more. My little three year-old is very intuitive and in the days leading up to the angelversary, started asking some really hard questions with information I've never given her. I don't know where she came up with it...but she knows more than she probably realizes. And she is S.T.R.U.G.G.L.I.N.G.
Why couldn't the doctors fix him?
Why did Daddy like the ice?
He needed a boat to help him Mama!
How many owies did he have?
He just needed a band-aid...a really big band-aid!
Why did the ice break?
Why can't he come back?
Why can't we go to Heaven? Will you take me someday Mama?
I miss my Daddy. I just want to give him a super big hug.
And this conversation happens every night, as we're going to bed. (Yes, we're co-sleeping...all 3 of us. No advice needed.) I want to shield her from the pain, but refuse to hide the truth. So I answer as simply and best I can...and a lot of times, my answer is "I don't know, punkin." And we both have a breakdown, a release of tears and emotion and fall asleep in each other's arms. I know the questions will keep coming, with more detail each time...until she can somehow find resolution and peace in her little heart.
People still ask how we're doing. The answer is still "ok...fine...hanging in there" or some other variation that slides out of my mouth. The truth? See above. It's a daily struggle. Often times, it's like standing outside a window watching everyone's lives go on while mine is at a standstill. The world is one big blur moving around me, no decision is ever easy and it's lonely. So very lonely. And until you are wearing these shoes, you don't understand how there can be people surrounding you...and it's still lonely.
But when we lost Will, I promised Sam that I wouldn't give up...give up on me, us, our plans, our future. And I'm doing my best to hold true to that promise.
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