how did i get here?

my husband, my beautiful Dragon, died suddenly at 12:03 AM on 9 February 2009. there was a cold, lovely full moon and 3 feet of snow on the ground. i "slept" for the following 10 months and "woke" to the physical and emotional pain and torments of deep grief. i "woke" to find i had moved the day of his funeral and that i am lost. i am looking for me while i figure out the abstract, unanswerable questions that follow behind any death. my art has evolved. his death changed that as well because i am forever changed and will forever bear the mark of losing the only man i can ever love.
there is alive and there is dead and there is a place in between. i am here wholly in my heart for my children, but i feel empty inside at this time. i miss him. i have not gotten very far in my grief journey. i make no apologies for this.
this is my place, my blog, where i write to tell the universe that i am still here.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

rescinded gift

it's a pretty day here today.  going to be hot.  that's okay.  i don't care one way or the other.  i'm tacking back and forth between numb and in tears these days.  i had thought there might be progress but there's not any that i can see.  i'm still emotionally in the same place i was the day i finished unpacking here sixteen weeks ago.  i'm not any better at all.  can't see it in my face, in my writing, especially in my private journal.  setbacks.  maybe it's my fault.  i just can't seem to let go.  i miss him so much.  i need him more each day for little things, for big things.  i just need to fall into his arms and be in his embrace.  to feel him nuzzle my hair and caress my face like he used to.  he always blushed but also got emotional when i held him.  i adore him and told him so.  i was so thankful and grateful to have him.  after such a disastrous first marriage, having him find me in the darkness was a gift from God.  then God rescinded the gift.  i don't know why.  i don't think this is one of those things we're meant to know.  but the cost of his dying is untold.  i don't think God thought this through.  i'm sorry, God.  just my humble opinion.

i've cut off all my hair and people at the widow(er)s group think i look better.  my daughter took me to supper last Sunday night at her future in-laws house so we could discuss wedding plans and they thought i looked better.  they met me three weeks after i got here, one month after my husband died, so yeah, i guess i don't look so shell shocked.  they said i'd lost weight.  i have.  eleven pounds.  it's called grieving, not eating well and frenetic energy.  i finished my first quilt for someone in the group.  she needed it by July 1 and since i don't own a sewing machine i have been working fourteen to sixteen hours a day to get it all done in time with time to spare.

such meandering thoughts still.  at the supper Sunday night, there was a couple there, the parents of my daughter's finance's father.  my daughter tried to warn me before we got inside but didn't get a moment to because everyone met us in the driveway.

the mother of the father of the groom has problems, my daughter told me on the way home.  my daughter's future mother-in-law called me Monday to apologize profusely for all the things that were said to me that night.  this woman, the mother of the father of the groom, (Lord, i hope you can follow this), found out that my husband had died 17 weeks before and she reveled in it.  she asked how he died.  she said her husband had had the same heart attack but the doctors had saved him.  they had better doctors.  her husband was a better person.  she found out my husband's funeral was on Valentine's Day.  she laughed and said, "look at this diamond ring i got on Valentine's Day while you were burying your husband."  everyone was shocked; so shocked they couldn't say a word to stop her.  she was on a roll.  she had a victim.  she talked relentlessly and ruthlessly about my being alone.  no one could distract her until her husband finally threw his napkin down on the table and carted her to the guest bedroom for her medicine.  yeah, it was obvious it was time.

i was numb.  and i wish i still was at this moment.  now my heart hurts.  and i'm crying, little moments of tears over and over all day Monday and now starting up again today.

and today is going to be a *itch of a day.  my daughter has it off and is coming over.  we're going to call her father and tell him she's set a wedding date.  she wants financial help.  and there will be a price to pay.  we have no way of knowing what that will be.  but there will be a price.  but if it's another pound of flesh i will doll it out like i always have.  she's my daughter and it another way of losing weight.  anything to protect her.  everything i have.

it makes me miss my husband all the more.  he protected us from my ex.  my ex-husband never dared trying to hurt us with my husband there.  my husband saw him do things, knew the badness that lay rotting behind his basset hound eyes.  my husband loved my children and me and never minded that we had scars.  he kissed and had healed every one.

but with my husband's death, i've been hauled back to square one and thrown in that cage of not having anyone who can help me.  of not having anyone who can or will stand up for me, protect me from my ex.  no one who will believe me.  no one who.....ah, never mind.  no one's listening.

4 comments:

Supa Dupa Fresh said...

Darling, people ARE listening. I only get one comment for every 100 readers, and at first, it was even less.

I'm so sorry you had an experience with this horrible woman. As rude as she is to you, think how little comfort or honest companionship SHE has. Or deserves! What a jerk.

You are in a vulnerable place, but it's not unusual considering what you've lost!

Uck!

Love,

Supa

matt_in_the_los_angeles said...

people can be idiots. ignore them. non-idiots are listening and care.

m.

mkintner said...

I am praying for you and listening. I know it doesn't take away the pain or what was said, but you are being prayed for.

Chillin' with Lemonade said...

Oh my goodness. How did you hold yourself back from that woman?

I had a nosy banker ask me how my husband had died. When I told her, she said "that'll do it". It took every fiber of my being to not slap her!

prayers for you today and always.

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