First written Wednesday, September 30th, 2009:
Tonight, I took Liv to a meeting. It just so happened to be at a place that I haven't been to in 19 months and 12 days. The place Liv was baptised. The place we were married. The place Jeff's funeral was held.
I didn't think it would affect me much. I thought I had grown stronger and more resilent. I knew it would sting a bit, but I hadn't anticipated this.
I had to fill out forms. Forms that had Jeff's name on them. I had to cross out his name. Cross it out. Like I was crossing him out. It felt wrong. I didn't want to swipe him away as if he didn't exist. He did. He was and always will be her father. I wrote 'deceased' beside his name and the traitorous strike in his name. I had to cross out his cell phone number. I had to write a new emergency contact.
It all feels....horribly, sickeningly wrong.
When outside, I stood in the spot where photos had been taken of us in our wedding garb. Now so seemingly frivolous and silly. It is also the same spot that I watched his coffin be driven away. The spot where Liv had waved and yelled, "Bye Daddy!" as the gravel crunched under the tires of the hearse.
I remember standing there. In a sedated state that made time go slower, the thoughts in my head unable to be voiced for others so I may feel some iota of comfort, and worrying, as I did for months after, that I was going to teeter and fall off this shaky precipice I was standing on. That I may just slip and fall.....fall apart. Lose myself. Lose.........more than the everything I already had.
Most nights, I tuck myself into bed and attempt to turn off my head. Tell myself that I am doing okay. That I can do it. I can do it for the kids. Comfort myself with the thought that one day, it will all make sense....where he went. If he is still with me.
But tonight, I go to bed that same scared woman. Alone. Terrified. Lost. Solitary in my own head. Missing my anchor, my love, my best friend with all my heart.
Standing on a ledge. Am I going to slip? Am I going to fall off? Can I convince myself to just stare straight ahead?
Don't look down. Don't look side to side. Just stare at the horizon and keep standing....Please, just keep standing.
I remember when Ifirst had to cross my husband name of the list. It was my first doctor's appointment. My whole self screamed, but he is the one I want to be my emergency contact- he knows me the best. It has been a year of doing this, at all my doctor's and my daughter's doctors too! It still makes me cringe, but it is a little easier every time. This summer one of those times sent me off the edge and I started to miss him all over again! I think we will always have moments like that so I really feel the next person we chose as a partner will have to get that this is not something you get over, but something you live with. They will have to understand we can still love them, but it will be different, becuase we are different.
ReplyDeleteAs I approach the 6 month mark, you've captured my feelings exactly. Thank you so very much for looking back and helping those of us who are early on this painful journey.
ReplyDeleteI have spent a long time wondering where my husband went as I know he is not GONE. I thought I was the only one with this thought. And I wonder when he left did he want to communicate anything to me, was he afraid, is he ok.
ReplyDeleteMay all our husband's souls be with God and at peace.
Wow - thats all I can say, very moving and I totally have those same feelings. I hate the "emergency" forms. Will it ever make sense. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThere. Are. No. Words.
ReplyDeleteWow, you said it all and I too feel the same pain and feelings. I am coming up to the 1st year, and am still deal with these constant reminders whether it be forms or places, a certain car etc. It hurts so bad to make that change. It's funny when family & friends are aware that an anniversary or holiday may be a trigger but they have no idea on how so much of our daily lives are constant triggers of pain, from the moment we wake up in the morning to the time when we go to bed - thanks for sharing it helps to know your not alone in this difficult journey.
ReplyDeleteMy heart breaks for all of us.
ReplyDeleted
So happy to have found your blog. I tried to start my own blog but gave up after a year. I was never consistent. I, too, remember the "forms" and crossing off my husband's name, writing deceased and checking the "W" box. Saying the word, "widow" was harder than saying the word, "forty" when I had reached that age. It's been 11 years for me but I can't get closure because of legal issues with my husband's adult son from his first marriage. Even after 11 years, I question whose name is going to go in the "emergency" contact section for me.
ReplyDeleteThis really hit home for me. I have a chronic condition and the first time I went to the hospital and had to change my emergency contact information it hurt so bad. Every once in awhile I'll still get a phone call - probably sales people and when I say he is deceased, they can't get off the phone fast enough. It happened again over the weekend. A friend of ours still leaves messages on my answering machine when he needs to talk to Jeff. It's weird, but seems to help him so I don't stop it.
ReplyDeleteThis "one year" mark is tough - all the firsts are nearly finished, though.
Lynee