Let It Be

What a weekend. I stayed so busy with my brother, who I don't see but 2 or 3 times a year, that I didn't have much time to think, or sulk, or wallow in my grief. I had my brother and my parents who were spoiling me, and him, because they were so proud and happy to have us all together. I let myself enjoy the moments, soak in the sun, and feel joy. I let myself escape my life and vacation like a rockstar.

Mark was on my mind every day. I remembered our trips to Chicago and smiled. I missed him and cried in the shower. And I felt like with every step I took, with every new memory I made, I was getting farther away from US and that made me sad but I held it all in. No one likes a killjoy on vacation. I got home late last night, put his urn in bed with me, snuggled up to his pillow, and bawled like a baby, like I could finally let it all out.

Today was his birthday so of course I cried this morning before church, bawled like a baby throughout church, and I'm bawling again now that the day has wound down. I put one foot in front of the other and get through the days, I take it all in and try not to take away from experiences, I try to find and feel joy every day, but the reality of it is sometimes it's harder than others. Evenings and nights are worse than days. Weekends alone are worse than weekends with the kids. Weeks suck because I have to push through work and push my brain to get out of the grief fog that I live in these days. Weekends suck because there's so much unstructured time. I look forward to Fridays because it's the end of the work week, but I hate Fridays because that's when he passed. I'm up and then down and I don't know which way I'm  going most of the time. It's been 5 months and it's getting harder instead of easier.

I miss my life. I miss my happiness that I didn't have to work so hard for. I miss my optimism. You know what I thought about this weekend? Death. Dying. Wills. What if the plane wrecks on landing? That's usually when it happens, you know. What if the uber driver gets in a wreck? Do I want a DNR? DNI? I need to write a will. What if there's a terroristic attack? What if a bird flies into the plane engine and we go down? LET IT BE. Don't worry, I'm not suicidal, I'm just not scared. And I miss my husband something serious. And if it means I get to go home to glory and be with him again then that's fine by me so just let it be.

I hate that he's gone. I hate that he left me! I hate that he broke me, broke my heart into a million pieces and broke my spirit. I hate that he took a good portion of my heart with him when he went and what's left behind is worthless. I hate that I feel like a toddler learning how to do life all over again and I'm 35. I hate that I'm 35 and feel like I'm at least...59. Yup, I feel 59.

I hate this. But it is what it is. It's lonely and ugly and up and down and hopeless and exhausting 95% of the time! But it is what it is so let it be. Whatever will be, will be I suppose.

Wait to Move

I keep mulling this over in my head over and over, trying to explain it but I can't, other than to say it's from God. It's too coincidental.

I've gotten things in order since Mark passed. All the loose ends are finally tied up and everything is solely in my name now. It's a relief to have it all done but then again it's sad and lonely. The last decision to be made is whether I stay in my house or move. We were renting but we wanted to buy within the next year or so. I've thought about moving forward with plans to buy so that I'm not wasting money on rent, but then again I think I should stay.

If I buy, it's mine. I can buy something quaint and do updates and upgrades to it and maybe make money on it. But then again, it will be mine, meaning if something happens it's on my shoulders and no one else's, financially. It's nice to have a maintenance man on call and the landlord foots the bill for major repairs. And then I think, what if I buy and then meet someone in the next few years and he has a house too...what would I do with mine? Or what if he doesn't but he has kids and my house is too small? Or what if I buy and don't meet anyone and want to move in 5 years when Issac leaves home? I don't know what to do! So, just like I've always done, when I don't know what to do I turn to God.

I prayed about it last Friday on the way home from work. I prayed out loud and asked God what to do. I told him I was going to wait and listen for him to show me, through signs or through people, and tell me what to do. I said point blank, tell me what to do, sign another year lease or go month to month and try to buy. You've never steered me wrong so I'll wait on you.

Sunday I was serving at church and got to talking with a girlfriend of mine, talking about furniture and jewelry, just making small talk. I complimented her earrings and she said the pastor's wife made them and that she's really crafty, she even refinishes furniture. She told me her name and I kept thinking, 'hmm that sounds really familiar' but I'm new to the church so I don't know too many people yet. And then it hit me. The pastor and his wife lived in my house last year, right before we moved in!

I've told people if I could LIVE at church right now I would. I want to be so close to God I'm rubbing shoulders with him if I can. Since I can't, I want to rub shoulders with those that have more faith than I do. I want to surround myself with the word and other believers to help me through this. All this time I've been living here in the very house they lived in. These walls have heard so many prayers, hosted so many believers, and the holy spirit has been in this place. To me, us coming to live here, following in their footsteps without knowing, walking where they have walked, is another way that God is protecting us. Like we're under his arm, right next to his heart, like a good father would protect his child from torrential rain.

I know they're human and broken and they have baggage and sin too but they've also got serious faith and are obviously called to a higher purpose and that's what I admire. And with that kind of faith I know God has been and continues to be in this place. So I don't have to live at the church, the church lived here and now I do too. If that's not God telling me to stay I don't know what is. He's saying, "Stay and rest a while, I've got you. You can feel me, I'm with you here, we'll figure out the rest later. I've got great plans for you."

So I'm staying for another year. Then I'll see what he wants me to do, where he wants me to go from there. How cool is that!?! Ask and you shall receive, you just gotta learn to wait and listen.

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.

On the other side

I haven't written in a while. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it means I'm getting through this. It definitely doesn't mean I'm forgetting him or moving on although it is hard to remember every detail about him and that makes me sad. It's almost as if it wasn't really real, like it was just a dream being with him and being loved that much. I remember the big things but I can't remember everything like I want to. I guess that's the way it goes.

I made it through Valentine's day. I sent up a balloon with love notes to Heaven on it. Issac and I released it at the church and the youth pastor took pictures for us. That was a good day. I didn't have him here on earth with me but I felt his love. And it made me happy to see people showing their love the way Mark did on a regular basis.

The day after Valentine's was my crash day. I couldn't hold it together. It's like my systems were overwhelmed. But I pushed through it and made it through. Since then I've been doing better. I've gotten the kids on our weekend, even JJ, and it's been good to be with them. JJ is good for me because she reminds me of her daddy and I'm good for her because I help her process her pain and move through it. She's having a hard time getting through it and becomes paralyzed by sadness at points but I'm trying to teach her to keep God at her center, talk to him in those moments and say a short prayer to him, and literally move through the pain to the next moment, and then the next, and then the next. We walked through some things this weekend and it was great therapy and practice. And of course Bub made us laugh and enjoy life like he does.

Today is week 2 of Grief Share. My friend and I have invited other moms/widows that would benefit and like to go. It'll be fun to connect and share and hug the hurt away for a moment. I'm glad they're coming. I really feel like it'll help me, and them. I really wish JJ could do something like that but for teens because our meetings are geared towards adults and she would be out of place. I'm thinking about doing the workbook questions with her like I did this past weekend. It'll help her process her grief. Maybe I can find something for her.

That's the thing about grief...you can't deny it or stuff it down because it'll explode like a shaken up soda when there's too much pressure. You have to process it and move through it to the other side of each moment. If you sit in it for too long it will consume you and you'll fall into the pit of despair, unable to dig your way out again. I'm paraphrasing but I read this in my Jesus Calling devotional last week, "Be careful not to fall into the pit of self-pity. Don't even go near the edge because the edges crumble beneath your feet. When you feel yourself getting close to the edge because of circumstances in your life seek Me (God) and find peace in me." Being sad or troubled is normal. Life sucks sometimes. But the good thing is that God meets us where we are, right in the middle of it. BUT, he loves us too much to leave us there. If you're struggling with something, grief or otherwise, let him hold your hand and walk you (or pull you) through. Don't just stay there, there's so much more on the other side. Love you!

My Prayer

Lord help me through this journey. Help me to relax and trust in you to be my provider and protector, you will be my comforter and my strength. Even when I have cancellations and finances stress me out, or when home repairs or technology stress me out and my man isn't here to help.

Remind me to just trust and you'll take care of me and send people my way to lend a hand. You'll be the father to my son in our home, and he'll learn from your example and the example I set for him as you guide my steps.

Help me fill the quietness in my home with meaningful productivity, not just noise. But also help me not to fear the quiet but to embrace it and seek you in the stillness. It's hard to do and it's excruciating but I'll get there.

I pray for your continued blessings and thank you for never leaving me, especially now. I love you. Amen.