He was here.....

The other day I picked up a picture that was on my closet floor, it was a picture of Brian holding Tucker when he was a baby.  We were at my uncles farm looking at his horses.

 I looked at this picture and the thought "He was here...." popped into my head.  That thought brought tears to my eyes "He was here....". 

Yesterday Abbie came running into the house asking for the video camera.  When I asked her what she needed it for she excitedly said "Genevieve is learning to ride a two-wheeler!  Mama, she is SO CUTE!!" 

That was a moment that almost brought me to my knees.  Brian was such an avid biker and last summer he desperately wanted Genevieve to learn to ride, but she was afraid.  It really hurts that he is not here to see her ride with no training wheels and that he is not here to teach her.  He would have been so excited and happy.  He should be here! 

Last week Abbie had her first strings concert.  She videotaped herself beforehand saying how sad she was that dad isn't here to see her first concert. 

As I sat in the audience I thought, Brian was here with us last year at this concert for Hannah.  He wasn't feeling well, but there was no way he was going to miss it. 

About this time last year he went on a field trip to Upham Woods with Hannah, they had a great time together and he talked about how he wanted to go with the rest of the kids. He was here......

We are starting to get used to him not being here, to life as a family of five instead of the six we are supposed to be.  I miss him, the kids miss him.  He was here....but he is not here anymore.  Sometimes I get a sense that he is with me.  I get a tingling sensation, most of the time it is on my face, either my nose, cheek or lips.  Lately though, I will all of a sudden realize that the tip of my right index finger is numb and tingly.  The tip itself will be white and it feels and looks as though it is being pinched.  Is he here?  That is my belief.  The last time the finger thing happened I told him I was glad he was here, but could he please do something that didn't hurt?  The next thing I knew, my finger was fine and I felt soft tingles on the side of my lip.  Kisses from Heaven.  He was here.......

Rewind!

I wish there was a rewind button for life.  If there was, what would you do with it?  I know what  I would do with mine!  There must be a rewind button somewhere, because someone has pushed it for me.  They didn't take me back as far as I'd like to go, instead, I have somehow been thrown right back into the throes of horrible grief.  The kind that weighs me down and renders me motionless.  The kind that gives me anxiety attacks.  My eyes sting from crying so much and I am exhausted.  I feel like I can't breathe.  I feel the way I felt shortly after Brian died. It has been 6 1/2 months!  Well, 6 months and 18 days to be exact, and over 8 months since he has actually been in our home. 

I was feeling BETTER!  I was laughing and having fun.  Now, I feel as though I have been slammed into a brick wall and I am so battered from the blow that I can not move.  Thankfully I have the support and friendship of other widows that have walked this winding path of widowhood ahead of me.  Because of the friendships I have with other widows, I know that this is not an uncommon phenomenon, in fact, it would be more uncommon if I DIDN'T feel this way!  I also know, from spending time with them that this feeling won't last.  My winding path through widowhood has taken an unexpected, and VERY unwelcome turn into a deep, dark, scary forest.  I know that as I keep meandering at what feels like a snails pace that I will come to a clearing and there will be sun and flowers.  I know it is up ahead waiting for me, I just have to keep moving forward so that I can get there.

For today though, I miss my Brian.  I miss my husband and best friend.  I yearn for him, to hear his voice and feel his touch, to see him smile, and on days like this it feels like I will never be able to make it through the next 40 or so years without him.  I just have to make my way through this dark forest, into the clearing, and believe me, I will.

Widow Island

Widow Island, it is a lonely and desolate place.  I am stuck on Widow Island and the terrain here is rocky and unfamiliar.  You would think that after 6 months I would know my way around a little better.  I don't.  In fact, it has only been recently that I have dared to venture out of the shelter I have made for myself here.  Even now I wander around this unfamiliar place and wonder "How did I get here?  What just happened to me?  Where is my life?"  There is no place safe here, no place to hide.  Brian was my safe place.  Even in the worst of times he could wrap his arms around me and I could find at least a little comfort.

The weather on Widow Island can go from sunny to thunderstorms in an instant.  As I venture out of my shelter more, I am able to see the sun.  On bright days I can even see the mainland.  The mainland where life is as it used to be, there is safety and comfort there.  I want off of this island, I want to be back on the mainland, but try as I might, I can't get there.  Maybe I can get there, all I have to do is swim, right?  So in I go, on a sunny day and start swimming toward the mainland, toward a normal life, to my safe place.  Then, out of nowhere a thunderstorm comes in and I am being forced back to Widow Island by the crashing waves. I feel as though my body is being ripped to shreds by the sharp, jagged rocks as I am pushed back.  I hurt everywhere.  Each bolt of lightening pierces my heart and every boom of thunder rocks me to the core.  I remember that my safe place is gone and I am again on my knees, crying in the thunderstorm, unable to stand from the weight of my grief.

Sometimes the sun comes out warm and bright for several days in a row and I think "The mainland looks closer today...." but I am not ready to try to swim towards it yet because I KNOW that there is a thunderstorm on the horizon.  Some day there will be more sunny days and less chance of thunderstorms.  Maybe then I will be able to make it past the waves and the sharp, jagged rocks and into the calm water.  I will be able to make it to the mainland, but life will never be as it used to be.  There will be safety and comfort, but my Brian will never again be there.  I know that even once I make it to the mainland there will be times when I will be carried off in a hurricane and deposited right back onto Widow Island.  Hopefully by then I will know my way around a little better and the swim home won't be as treacherous. 

Gossip.....

I love where I live.  I love the people here and feel so lucky to have made the friends here that I have.  I am fortunate that so many people here have gone out of their way to do something caring for me in my kids, whether it is a neighbor shoveling my sidewalk or someone bringing us dinner.  But sometimes it is hard to live in a small community, especially when you are someone that had an active role within that community.  Brian was that active person, and so many people knew him or at least knew of him here.  Being in that "public eye" isn't always easy, and it is amazing to me the things that I have learned about myself through the gossip of others......

A friend of mine told me one day that she had been on the phone with someone who knew me.  That person referred to me as "the devil"....really?  Me?  The devil?  Of course, my friend wouldn't tell me at that time WHO had said it, so here I am walking around my small community looking at people and wondering if THAT person thinks I'm the devil?  It is NOT a good feeling......Later my friend told me who said it, and it came from someone I never would have expected, someone with the capability to really hurt me, and this comment succeeded in doing just that.  The worst part about this situation is that this person got "misinformation" and by that I mean she was basing her anger towards me on something that she had been told that was completely untrue.  She had heard that I asked a local organization for money so that I could buy coats and boots for my kids.  Mmmmm, no, not even close to the truth, but instead of coming to me and asking about it she chose to believe the lies that were being told. 

I learned today from another good friend of mine (who had heard this from her neighbor) that I am "shopping" for a husband.  Apparently I have a goal of being married in the next year so I am working towards that.  Oh by the way, I am also looking for someone who makes a lot of money.  Huh?  Okay then......For anyone reading this I am NOT looking for a new husband, shoot, I'm not even looking for a DATE!  Now, don't get me wrong, if the opportunity presents itself to go out, I might just do that, but often the thought of dating gives me an anxiety attack.  I do hope that SOMEDAY I will find someone who is able to fill Brian's very big shoes, but that day is not today, and probably not any time soon.

Gossip.  With just these two situations (and I am guessing there are more out there) I am being portrayed as a lying, selfish person with a helping of promiscuity and gold digging on the side.  Yep, that sounds like me...NOT!!  I don't know how these things get started, but it only takes one person to say something untrue and in a small town that spreads like wild fire.  It is frustrating.

For those of you in my community that hear these things, thank you for not believing them.  I will admit though, that gossip hurts and now that my widow bubble is starting to fade away those rumors hit a little bit harder.  Unfortunately, gossip won't go away and I will just have to try and shrug off those untruths as best I can.  In the mean time, I will just continue to be me and continue down my path of healing.  I guess gossip is just one more fork in the winding road of widowhood that I will have to deal with.  Rats!

Goodbye Winnie

Sometimes grief takes on a new shape.  Just when you think you can not handle one more thing, that one more thing comes along and has to be dealt with.  Then your grief expands to let in this new sadness.  I think my grief is about as full as it can get at this point.

Today I had another first, though one that was not something I had previously thought of, and it was a first that ripped my heart in two.  I had to put our oldest cat Winnie down today.  Though Brian and I had cats our entire lives together, I never had to put one down.  Brian always did it.  Mello (his from before we even lived together), BooBoo a little black kitty that we got when we first moved to Iowa.  I was so depressed living in Iowa that Brian looked at me one day and said "Let's go get you a kitten", we came home with this little black bundle of fur.  She didn't really like Brian for some reason, but when she got sick he took her to the vet and held her until she was gone.  Then our favorite cat, Fred.  He definitely belonged to both of us, he never picked sides.  Fred was the most awesome orange cat ever.  He originally belonged to our two very young next door neighbors in Iowa.  I actually almost stole him once, no lie, because he was SO cute!  One day Brian woke up and realized our neighbors were moving out!  WooHoo!  No more loud parties and stupid kids peeing in our yard!  Then the youngest of the sisters came over and asked if we could keep their cat.  She said if we didn't take him she would just have to let him go, well, it was December and there was snow on the ground, so we added one more cat to our home.  When Brian was sick he would lay with him for hours.  If Brian moved from the couch to the bed, Fred would follow.  It broke our hearts when we had to put him down.  Again, Brian held him until he was gone.  Today it was my turn.

Like BooBoo and Fred, Winnie was an Iowa cat.  I had stopped at a pet store to look at something on my way home from work one day and here was this adorable little long haired calico kitten.  She was so cute that I called Brian from the store and asked him if I could bring her home.  He said no, we had enough cats.  I was pretty disappointed and I talked about her for the next several days.  One day I got home from work and immediately got a phone call.  I was walking all through the house as I talked and finally Brian said "Sheryl, turn around!"  I turned around and here was this little kitten following me.  He had gone and gotten her for me.  She was definitely my cat, though she also loved Brian.  She would sleep between our pillows and Brian would always complain that he got the butt every time.  She would give me little mini-massages as I went to sleep.  So, today I had to put my little kitty down, and it was so hard.  I held her until she fell asleep and I cried wondering if I was making the right choice.  I know I did, but that didn't make it any easier.

Before I had this done I talked to Brian and told him that Winnie was coming and that he needed to be ready for her.  I told Winnie to give Brian extra love for me.  My theory is that Winnie fell asleep in my arms and woke up in Brian's.  That thought makes me smile.