Tonight was one of those moments and it had me in internal tears, I felt like my soul was screaming for help and, right or wrong, I was angry that Brian is dead. As I sat with all four of my kids, having a discussion that I have had with them umpteen times just this summer alone, I felt that feeling of despair creep in. I just want a clean house. I'm not asking for a miracle (though I guess that is relative, if you saw my house you may think I am asking for a miracle!) I just simply want my house to not constantly look like a tornado has gone through it. The mess stresses me out more than I want to admit. It blocks me from doing things I want to do and stops me from doing things I need to do. It creates an inactivity and anxiety within me that I can't seem to overcome. So, as I'm having this conversation AGAIN about how I need HELP to get the house clean, most of what I get back is static and bickering between them. This, I will admit sends me over the edge and my anxiety level reaches a point where I feel like I can't breathe... and again I am overcome with the fact that I am alone in this thing called parenting. How being alone makes me feel guilty I because I can't provide the things for my kids that I want to. How I struggle financially to make ends meet and still make sure that everyone has what they need. Guilt because I can't be everything for everyone. All of this guilt because something happened to our family that I had no control over.
This conversation led to my oldest daughter telling me how stressed out she is about going to college. How she wants OUT of our house because she can't stand being here, with us. How she feels like her grades aren't good enough to get into a good college, and even if they were we have no money for her to go to college. She brought up how we JUST had her tested for a learning disability (which she has, the same as her dad) and I STILL haven't contacted the school psychologist to help her get accommodations for the ACT test... and I think to myself how I failed her. How I should have gotten her tested sooner. How I should have already contacted the school psychologist. How SAD I am that she hates it here so much... how I screwed up and I can't fix it. I know that if Brian were alive he would have had this stuff done. He knew she was like him, he would not have let her struggle and in my grief and my aloneness I failed her... and all of this came about because I just simply asked for help to get and keep our house clean. It hurts to feel like I have not done everything I could as a parent, even though I know I have done the best I could given the circumstances.
I'm thinking that part of it is the time of year, no matter how long it has been the memories of 6 years ago creep in, and those memories are hard and painful. Unfortunately, I'm not the only one who hurts. My kids hurt too and it comes out in different ways. Today it came out in anger, fear and frustration all directed towards me (because, you know, they can't yell at their dad because he's not here!) and making me feel like my best isn't even close to good enough. It is really hard to be an only parent...
So tonight, as I wind my way through a darker part of my path of widowhood, I am still wallowing in self pity and wishing I could do more for my kids to make their life feel safer and more complete. I have to say, widowhood is NOT for sissys, and no matter how long it has been these moments of incredible self doubt and sadness creep in and sit for a while, and given that the anniversary of Brian's death is less than two weeks away I'm sure this feeling will unfortunately linger. I used to think that my winding path of widowhood would eventually come to an end, however in the last almost 6 years I have come to realize that it will NEVER end. I will grieve Brian for as long as he is dead. Grief. It is the price we pay for love...
