A Typical Saturday

Today was a typical Saturday. It almost felt like a normal Saturday, the kind of Saturday that existed before my D day. I slept in a little and then got up and started cleaning house. One thing led to another and I ended up reorganizing closets and cleaning out the car. I got a lot accomplished today. I ended the day vegging out on the couch watching tv and eating a blizzard. I got in bed around 10 pm after a hard day of cleaning and moving furniture. So feel me why I can't sleep. I'll tell you why...

It felt like a typical Saturday. The kind that existed before D day. It felt like Mark was working and then hanging out with friends while I stayed home and did my thing around the house. And now as I lie in bed without him it feels like he's going to come walking though the door any minute. Or he'll call me and say he's okay and he'll be home in a bit. But I know that's not the case.

My heart is playing tricks on me. It starts to float just a bit and then comes crashing down again like some cruel joke. The joke's on me I guess. He's not coming back. I never could sleep until he got home. I worried all the time until he was safe and sound and snoring loudly in our bed. I feel like I'm still waiting up for him! Damnit! Make it stop!

Rings

I've been going to Grief Share, a 13 week grief support group, and during one session we talked about our wedding rings. When do you stop wearing your ring after your spouse dies? When is the right time to put it away? Do you EVER put it away? The mentors said you'll know when the time is right and you'll know what to do with it when the time comes. I've thought a lot about it. Do I pass it down to Bub or JJ? Do I have the diamonds transferred into a memorial piece or earrings for me? Do I just put it in a keepsake box? What do I do with it?

Before all this I had actually stopped wearing my original wedding ring. Last summer Mark bought me a simple infinity band from James Avery because my big diamond ring scratched my kids at work. Then, when he passed, I only wanted to wear my original wedding ring and didn't want to take it off.

Then I took it off because I was mad at him for leaving me and the ring was a reminder that he promised to love me and live with me as long as we BOTH shall live and he didn't hold up his end of the deal.  Instead of my wedding ring I wore an emerald ring he bought for me. It was our birthstone and it was special because he gave it to me so it was still sentimental, just not a wedding ring.

Now I'm wearing it again and don't want to take it off. I don't know when I will and I still don't know what I'll do with it when I do but I have time to figure it out. Right now I just want him to be near me. I wear his ashes around my neck, his ring around my finger, and sometimes I wear his big daddy sized wedding band around my thumb (even though it's still too big) just to have my hands where his hands once were.

There are days I'm okay and then there are days when I come home, wash my hands with his body wash, wrap myself in his cologne stained robe, and sleep with his urn in my arms. Whether I have good days or bad days he's with me. He's always with me. Today I was running late and I forgot my necklace (with his ashes). I didn't realize it until noon when I went to touch it and it wasn't there. But I realized it's okay because he's always with me. I still had my ring on and him in my heart.

I'm rambling.  I guess my point was that they're right. I'll know when the time is right and I'll know what to do when that time comes. And you will too if you're in the same boat I'm in. Whether it's a wedding ring or family photos, you'll know when the time is right.

Pouring myself out

I'm sitting in my car at a neighborhood park, trying to work up the nerve to get out and socialize but the tears won't stop welling up in my eyes and the lump in my throat won't go away.

I'm meeting with other young couples from church in a community group. I met them a few weeks ago and shared my testimony and they were all so gracious and accepting. I'm pouring myself into relationships, moreso than before. I read somewhere that instead of looking at what I need from life, I should look at what life needs from me. So I'm pouring myself out as much as I can. I'm pushing myself to give of myself. And I can't lie, I'm hoping it'll help me move through this grieving also.

It's hard, especially right now as I watch them unload their strollers and their 4 and 5 year olds go frolicking in the field. They're my age. They have the life I wanted: the marriage, multiple kids, good jobs. That's what I signed up for...not THIS. I had Bub so young (21) that he's a teenager now and not up for picnics at the park with the littles anymore. So even though I fit in with the moms and dads age-wise, we are on totally different pages when it comes to the kids and now marriage/life.

It's sad because it's not just Mark that died on January 6th. My dreams died. My hopes for a baby died. My plans for the future died. Part of me died. So as I pour myself out I realize more and more how empty I am. This is hard as hell and I'm worn out. Dear God help me.