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.

Tuesday, July 28th ~ how it all played out

to Widow in the Middle, Suddenwidow, Ann, and J-in-Wales, i've added the photo of the hydrangea just for you. in the language of flowers, the hydrangea showed the earnestness in communicating something of enormous import, ranging from great joy to everlasting sorrow. you can click on it to make it larger. i hope you enjoy it.

thank you all for writing on my last posting of the 6 month anniversary of my husband's death. it was so strange how it played out. i was anxious on Saturday. Sunday, i stayed so busy watching stupid movies on SyFy Channel all day and worked on someone's Memory Quilt, almost finishing the backing. my daughter called from work several times to check on me which was very nice. the woman who's Memory Quilt i am presently working on also called. i started getting upset as night encroached though and i switched work. i set aside the other woman's quilt and pulled my own onto the table. i haven't worked on it since last May.

but for a few embroidery stitches, my Husband Quilt top is finished. i'll post a photo of it on a later blog.

my husband was pronounced on a Monday morning at 12:03 AM. when i went to bed Sunday night i laid there. i had taken Tylenol PM for my aching back and hand and hoped for sleep and though i was so drowsy, sleep did not come for a long while. i just laid there not sleeping but not crying either. no, for some reason known only to my subconscious, my crying jag didn't hit until last night. i think my son calling me and telling me he had gone to see the film, The Hurt Locker, triggered some memory of my husband's years as a Marine.

i was thinking of him and how much he had been hurt over all those years. i was remembering all the meds he was on for arthritis for his back and shoulders. my husband was in a lot of physical pain for all his active lifestyle of climbing on rocks with me and hiking and swimming in the ocean. he had broken his back twice during different combat missions so the pain could be quite intense for him at times. he'd been blown up and his parachute shot out of the sky the other time.

i laid there last night and i was thinking of everything he'd done for his country and for me and for my children. all the money we struggled to pay for my two for college that their father refused, and all of my debt that he paid off that my first husband left me with. my Marine was uncomplaining. he knew the enormity of what he was taking on but he did it with such love. he told me once, "i know the baggage you come with. i've carried a lot heavier for reasons far less than love. you are my world. i'd carry anything forever for you. besides, you're carrying something more important. you're carrying my heart and soul."

and that's when i started crying. he had the heart of a dreamer and the soul of a poet. i was sobbing and talking to God and telling Him that He had to make sure my husband was happy and to lie to him, LIE to him and tell him i'm doing okay. i had all these instructions for God whom i'm sure was listening to me with tears of His own coursing down His face. He can see i'm so miserable without my husband. i'm sure if there wasn't some reason for my husband having to die, God would have let him stay with me. but the reason eludes me except for maybe bringing rest and peace to a man whose body was so weary, that he needed all those meds to keep the pain at a tolerable level.

thank you to all four of you for reading my last post. i want you to know how much it meant to me to be remembered and to read what you wrote to me.