Swoosh, gargle, spit.
If the weekends are the most trying times for me alone, then Mondays are the hangover during recovery. My day has been brimming with tempestuous emotional swings set off by the smallest little things. This affliction is exhausting. Peace is a rare commodity in my life and when it comes, it is welcomed. If I were able to nap without ruining any chance of sleeping through the night without pharmaceutical assistance, I would be unraveling the weave in my office carpet to crochet a hammock. EL was fabulous at crocheting things. She made scarves, blankets, and the like... crafty is so many ways. I can't stop here because this is the sort of thing I was talking about sparking emotional breakdown. So, moving right along to my weekend. It was uneventful. I did mostly nothing with mostly no one. I watched some movies to pass the time. I went to church on Sunday. I was lonely for the most part. Time and patience... be strong... pray... have faith. Mantra du jour. I would hate to think that my life has become my own personal Groundhog Day. Rinse and repeat.
Sometimes the events in our lives put us in a rut, but then the rut becomes WHO we are, not just WHERE we are. My brother is afraid to let go of the pain because he sees it as a betrayal to Cheryl, even though he knows she’d never want him to spend the rest of his life alone. They had just moved into a new place when she passed and even though it’s been two years now, his house is still almost exactly like it was the day she died because he just can’t bring himself to go through her things, plus he’s still paying the rent on two HUGE storage rooms that all her furniture and stuff is in. I understand it, but at the same time I see him hurting and in many ways I feel like I’m watching my brother die a little more each day and it feels so crazy not to know a single thing I can do to help him.
Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to this blog. You writeabout things he just can’t say. (His pain is very personal I guess)
Anyway, it always takes me forever to get to my point. You said you would “… hate to think that your life has become your own personal Groundhog Day.” It makes me wonder if his has.
I appreciate the insight your very personal loss is giving me. I want to remind you that Craig and I include you (and Henry!!)in our prayers.
I wanted to writeand thank you for sharing your story. I googled “please God help me” and your story came up. I just want to tell you that God used you and your wife to help a total stranger tonight.
My husband was 27 years old when he was killed last year. He was, like your wife, a wonderful and caring person. I will miss him for the rest of my life. I thought that I was doing really well and the last two days have been...well you know. I miss him. I was reminded by you (and God) that this is the life we have to live and we will make it through. And thank God we will see Erin and Peter in heaven,waiting for us with big smiles.
Someone told me after Peter died that I would never live a “normal” life again. But she said that I would find a new normal and that I would learn to live with that. She said it was like someone who had lost a limb and goes on to live life. That person will always miss their arm or leg but they will continue to live. That thought has helped me many times and so I pass it on to you.
God bless you and keep you safe. You will be in my prayers and I know that God will bless you for sharing your faith with others.
Thanks again,
Rebecca
P.S Thank you also for sharing the pictures of your wife. She is a beautiful person
Post a comment