blessed are those who mourn

i have insomnia again. for about 3 or 4 months there i was doing okay. but i am back to not falling asleep again. i am not staying asleep. i am tired. i long for him. i wish he had not had to go.

i talk to him. i kiss his picture each night before i lay in the dark with eyes wide open.

C.S. Lewis wrote, "We were promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, 'Blessed are they that mourn.' " the rest of that is, "for they shall be comforted." i do not know when i will ever feel comforted. i simply do not know. i relate much better to this that he wrote, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."

i get down and i try to work it off. i try to play music so that their "charms can soothe my savage breast." but all my very human doubts and fears snicker at me. they outright laugh. they rise like smoke and i take it all in with every breath. i have seen the ads for that new movie, "Hereafter." my daughter is putting her foot down and forbidding me to see it. and she is right to do so. it messes me up, just the trailer. i so want to know that i will get to be with him in joy and light. what i am so afraid of is that my life is reflective of the punishment that awaits me. i am afraid my forever will be spent working rather than being at peace with him, holding hands with him, just getting to be with him again.

i have this lonely vision of my hereafter and i do not get to be with my Dragon. i am in the middle of a wasteland where all the color is washed away into monochromatic hues of grey. i am seated at a frame only its a loom rather than a quilt frame and i am weaving the cloth of my life to show God, to try and persuade Him that there was something there of value. but as i weave i cry because i cannot find anything worth showing Him. i keep working and searching through the remnants of my life to see if there is one thing i can show God to say, "here. see this? is this enough so that i may ask to be with my Dragon?" and all God can do is sadly turn away from me shaking his weary head at another of His children who failed. all i can hear Him say is, "not enough color. you just didn't use enough color."

"Blessed are those who mourn....." i mourn. tonight, especially so.

woke up crying....

it wasn't from a bad dream. it wasn't because a dream of him was interrupted. i simply woke up and before i could stretch and get out of bed, it hit me. he's dead. i've always hated that word. two hard consonant sounds. in sign language it's very simple. the hands are very soft. that's why i like sign language better than speech because all the emotions are in the face and hands to get the across what you want to express. i wish i'd thought to find an interpreter to sign my Dragon's funeral. not that i'm deaf, but hard of hearing means it's hard to hear every word and if there had been an interpreter, there would have been an anchor there to cling to.

my ear hurts this morning and my tinnitus has come calling.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE......!!!!!!

if he were here, he'd make me hot tea and turn the music on low to help me focus on something pretty. he'd make sure he was facing me to talk to me so i could see his lips. damnit. he'd just be here.

my belief in Heaven has been rattled. i was so sure throughout the bad times in my life that someday i would die and hopefully would be judged meek and honorable enough to go to Heaven. am i though? i've lied during my life to protect my children, and yes, me, from "he who shall not be named." does that count? i hid money from him, too. is that theft? i just wanted us to get through it. i wanted my children to grow up and me to get away. i didn't want to live that afraid anymore, or filled with that much self-hatred because i wasn't pretty, or quick enough.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted."

those are the ones i think about. i feel poor in spirit. really feel poor in spirit today. i miss him so much that my heart actually hurts. right now, as i type this, i am crying so much that the words get blurry. i have to blink, blink to clear my vision.

i've always leaned towards meek, unless my children were threatened, but that's what i'm here for. to protect them. but i am at heart a very meek person who avoids confrontation. i like taking long walks to pick up rocks and shells. i like taking photographs. i like to feel the wind kick up and smell the ozone before a storm. i like a quiet life with a lot of time spent outdoors. it sounds like a personals ad and the only one i want answering has died and left me here alone. he is so perfect for me. he is so great. he is so wonderful. i like him so much as well as love and adore him. why did he have to go? please, someone tell me why he was taken away. i'm on my knees asking why this morning because i need him so much.

i saw him fighting to breathe. oh, my stars, i cannot get that image out of my mind this morning. it hurts so much to think he was in shock, and fear, and in pain. i know, it didn't last long, but no one should be afraid like that. no one should be in pain. but i'm being naive again. and selfish. pretty much everyone who takes the time to read what i write has had their spouse die and have similar memories that haunt them. i'm sorry.

the second week after he died and i was here and still unpacking, my daughter took a photo of my Dragon and had a pillowcase made for me. i hand wash it. i don't let my dogs get near it. i hold it every night. i sleep on it every night. i guess i've become odd. it's my security pillow.

i hugged it this morning and sobbed into his face. he died. he's gone from me. i can't touch him or kiss him or talk to him. i can't hear his voice or smell his skin. i can't stroke his beard or hear his laugh.

if i woke up in the night from a bad dream or was cold, all i had to do was put one finger on his side, or his arm. just one little fingertip and he'd move his big body towards me. he'd straighten his arm up and then underneath me to draw me close. i'd mold myself to him and he'd whisper to my face, "there. that's better." he'd kiss me and it would either "start something" or we'd fall back asleep.

i miss him and the only people who understand the power and the impact of those three words will be the people who read this. and now that i've exposed this pain in my heart to the world, it's time for the meek, the poor in spirit, and those who mourn to go eat something so we don't fall down and then get back to sewing.