I've Had Enough. (The one you have to look to find because I tell the truth) 11/5/13

I've had enough of some people.  Stop.  Just stop.  Don't tell me how to find a man.  It will be six months in a couple of days, and my heart still thinks he'll walk through the door.  There are so many things for him to do.  How am I supposed to know how to contact his Norwegian accountant, much less pay Norwegian taxes?  I can see it now - little Norway police arriving at my school, asking for me and arresting me, even though I don't have a dragon tattoo!  How much is 629 in Norwegian, anyway?

Work gets in the way.  Yes, I've said in other posts that it's my salvation, but sometimes, it feels as it I'm back in the music building.  You know, posing as a music major.  I always felt that way, because I didn't have that "Ahhhhh!" attitude about all the classical music stuff.  I would rather be out eating pizza or kissing on my boyfriend than practicing until 1 a.m.  For that I was weird?  These days, there are the 1 a.m. people in elementary school.  Okay, maybe 7 p.m.  But I don't share that desire.  That building gets me - all of me - wholeheartedly - (well, I fake that occasionally) - from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.  After that, I'm not the music teacher anymore.  I'm back to being me.  The widow.  The single mom.  The caretaker of the house/pets/accounts/vehicles/pool/you-name-it-I'm-in-charge-of-it.  When I need to locate four particular papers for the accountant, two more for the lawyer, and do a couple of hours of homework for the financial planner, I really feel as if work needs to go away.  Is there such thing as widow's leave?  There needs to be, and it needs to be the type of  leave that can be spread out for when you need it most. 

I rant here, and I want attention here.  I write because I want people to read this and understand (which you do) and give me an encouraging comment (which you do).  I am an attention hog with a blog.  Please don't hate me.  Let me down gently.  At six months of grief, that will be the only gentle thing that happens.  Life moves on, and I'm expected to move with it.  And I have.  At a limp.  If you know me, you see it.  If you don't know me, I look "so strong".  Hell, what else am I supposed to do, stay under the covers for days on end?  I wish.  I wish my personality allowed me to be a bit more of a delicate flower.  Unfortunately, I am not. I would control everything if I could.  Only if I physically can't or get absolutely shut down do I not exercise control over a situation.  Man, oh man, did death laugh at me.  I shouted at it, cried to it, and have sulked behind it for all these months.  I don't like you, death. 

I don't like a lot of things right now, and one of those things is people that "do it wrong".  Thank goodness, there are only a few of those around me, probably because I keep my shield up almost all the time.  There I go again, being positive behind a negative, because I can't group punish!  Not everybody is bad!  I just want to say, bad ones: just shut up.  I'm done with you.  I will leave the room or I will say "Not talking about that right now, thanks".  Or just: (my favorite from England) "Can't".  It must be said with a British accent, though.  And if I do that, some American might not even know what I'm saying, or might think it's naughty.

If you found this post, know that I'm done. This is hard.  I've had to learn a new way of defending myself.  Until the insensitive idiots out there can stop, maybe learn, maybe change their demeanor; or at least until they shut up......my armor is on, but I'm now armed, and I might stick it to you a time or two.  Someone should.

Scary Movies Aren't As Scary As Life 9/15/13

I just saw "Insidious, Chapter 2".  If you know me, this is not surprising, you know that I love scary movies.  When I saw the original "Insidious", I proclaimed it one of the best scary movies I'd seen in a long time.  I even bought the DVD, which is not a habit of mine, as it is with some people.  Today, I enjoyed the sequel, but not as much as the first.  Is this because it's not quite as good, or because of my reality? 

Scary movies want to make us afraid of ghosts, 'spirits', beings that are stuck in the afterlife because of some evil reason or another.  I happen to know that there is no such thing, and what is left behind is much more difficult to manage simply because we are left alone to handle things.

I sit writing this with a box fan blowing into my 'office', because the air conditioner needs repair.  It's leaking Freon in the attic portion, so they have to replace all those workings.  I have reserved the pretty penny that it will cost, scheduled the work and requested my day off.  These are all the responsibilities of the sole adult that owns the house.  In one scene of the movie today, the ghost punched the woman in the face.  I might have preferred that horror to the stress and cost of getting the a/c repaired.

This past Friday, I sold the dirt bike that he had left sitting in the garage.  I knew what he had paid for it, and ended up taking a bit less, just to get rid of it.  I didn't envision him sitting on it, or trying to start it - like the movie with its visions of a person long gone sitting on the bed.  I just saw the bike, the space it's been taking up in the garage, the hope I had that it would start for the potential buyers after four months, and the dust and cobwebs that clung to it.  Start it finally did, and after the exchange of cash, the bike was theirs.  Of course, I typed out a receipt, one for them, one for me, because I could hear him saying "Make sure you give a receipt, I've see too many 'People's Court' episodes where stupid people didn't get anything in writing....." All right, I didn't envision anything, but boy, could I hear his words in my brain.  That's not scary, though. That is comforting.

I am one person at home now - with three cars to choose from.  I do intend to sell them and upgrade to something newer, and therefore (in theory) more dependable. One needs a new water pump, knock sensor, and catalytic converter.  One just got a new water pump, but has a funny clank that I can't get it to make for the mechanic.  The third is in decent shape, it's just ten years old! Now, I'll admit, we've been very spoiled as far a vehicles go - Scott could fix almost anything, therefore we got older, but more top-of the-line when we purchased.  Having to sell and buy cars by myself is more of a nightmare than seeing a shadow face in the window.  That's scary, but only for a minute.  My fears these days are eroding me like water did the Grand Canyon.

Sometimes, there's just sadness.  In the movie today, there was someone that was extremely mean and evil toward a child.  Sadness.  My heart breaks and prays for mistreated children on a daily basis.  In my house today, I called little Marylebone, the Scottie, up to sit with me for a bit.  I scratched him, then stopped.......he nosed my hand up for more.  After a good five-minute scratching session, I realized that his dad is gone, his girls are gone, and I'm the only one left to pet a scratch him on a daily basis.  I will say every now and then, I get help with this from my favorite fifth-grader Riley.  Still, the thought that anyone, even the creatures, would not get enough attention from me because of all the responsibilities I now have is just plain sad.

Then again, there is the example of Riley.  We took her to the scary movie today.  Her mom carefully scanned the reviews and deemed it appropriate.  We promised her she could sit between us.  As it came time to go in, her nerves almost seemed to get the better of her - slowing her step and clutching her tummy.  We encouraged and joked and promised that it wouldn't be that bad.  She got settled, legs tucked up so she could turn and hide her face in her mom's arm, and the movie started.  After a few 'jumps' and 'scares', her reaction turned from hiding her face to laughing nervously.  It was very cute, her mom and I are famous for laughing in scary or serious movies, we find it takes away the intensity.  Ok, maybe we annoy some people around us, but it can't be helped!  Riley's laughter under stress was a reminder to me. The things I have going on at present may be scary, sad, stressful....but there's usually a little laughter in each day.  And after a good laugh, you take a deep breath....and just keep going. Remember how I said Riley was nervous going in to the movie?  On the way out, she was practically bouncing as she walked, and said "I'm so glad I went to see that!"  I hope I can take things in stride like that and keep going.  What an example.  Take that, scary stuff.

No right or wrong......right? 6/10/13

Please just keep telling me there is no right or wrong way to handle this.  If I laugh at something, I feel guilty.  If I eat, I feel guilty.  If I haven't teared up or cried in a while, I feel guilty.  I am not the picture of a woman whose husband has just died suddenly and young.

Well, maybe not.  If you count the obsessiveness over the event and surroundings, then maybe I am.  If you count the blank staring time, yeah, maybe. If you count the very act of sitting and typing these words to try to make myself feel better - I am a picture, just not a typical one.  But what is typical?

Everyone says "Do what you feel".  "Go back to work when you feel ready".  On and on, emphasizing that our personalities are all different and what is right for one person may not be right for another.  At least society has come that far.  I want to get back to normal, I just don't want to stumble along the way.  But I probably will.

I just want to be me.  I like attention, but not this kind.  I am held together and propelled onward, however, by the fact that people have reached out to me with cards, food, gift cards, flowers, and facebook messages.  Now that they are slowing down, I keep looking for more.  Is that wrong?  Oh yeah, no right, no wrong - right?

There's too much when this happens.  Too much to do, too much that I think is expected, too much to share, too much to keep in.  Too much exhaustion and too much of being wired with no sleep.  Too much food.  Too many fears.  I just don't know what to do with all the too.

I worry for my kids.  Not about them, they are strong and wonderful.  But for them.  Does that make sense?

This morning, someone posted a Sondheim song on facebook - "Losing My Mind".  I guess the song is about a wanna-be affair, but what a message!   I wake up, I think of you.  I eat breakfast, I think of you......sometimes I just stand still, not moving......and I think of you.  Truth.

I consider a night of sleep without taking a pill a victory. 

Crying in the grocery store is ok, right?


Three weeks yesterday.  Time just goes on, and time has no idea that my husband is gone.

A little something is wrong with one of the cars - I feel his absence as if someone has ripped out my insides.

I'm starting to feel tired.  I've been standing, walking, working, talking, decision-making, questioning, researching, communicating......living but without the joy.......and it's become exhausting.  I think people are worried about me if I'm alone, but I need to be alone a little bit.  I feel all the work weighing down on me, like the world on Atlas.  I need peaceful rest.  It will be four weeks in a couple days, and I feel as if every muscle has been clenched since it happened. 

The sadness is a stealthy attacker.  I tried to go see a movie. One of the previews was something we would have wanted to see together - and I realized I would never see a movie with him again.  Crying during previews - not usually done.  Not wrong, because nothing is wrong......right?

I've realized a lot of things will never happen again.  I've realized that now - when shock and grief is as fresh as the dawn - you accomplish all the things that need to get done with the help of loving family and friends.  I've realized that songs are going to make me cry.  Seeing certain items in the grocery store is going to make me cry.  Typing about crying will make me cry.  But the main thing I've realized is that when you love someone as much as I loved him, you miss them every day, hour, and second of your life when they are gone. I don't think this will change once a year has gone by, instead of just a month.  Sorry.  If I'm driving, laughing, doing laundry, teaching, talking on the phone, shopping........anything.......I miss him. I'll love him for all of my life.  Good thing that can't be wrong.