I have decided to put my focus on a few things.
1. Instead of focusing on what was taken from me, I will focus on what was/is given.
2. I can not control my circumstances, but I can control my reactions to these circumstances. I get to choose how I react.
3. Stupid and cheerful is always a great plan B.
ya know, I never thought I’d make it this far. I never imagined I’d be saying “My husband died three years ago” But here I am, saying it. They (whomever “they” are) say time heals all wounds, but they are wrong. Time doesn’t “heal”. Time adds distance, but doesn’t magically make thing all better. “Time” keeps moving forward… Time is one of those things that doesn’t stop when I want it to, it doesn’t slow down and wait for me to catch up, it doesn’t pause when I want to stay in bed and cry. It keeps going…putting distance between my old life with Jeff and this “now” life. All I can do is try and keep up, try and stay in the “now”. Live in the now and look to the future. Oh, it’s fun to visit the past, but thats not where I live, and it seems like the more time I spend visiting the past the harder it is to live in my “now”. Kinda like when you go on vacation, the work doesn’t stop, you still have to do it all when you get back. I’m not sure where I am going with this post.
It’s the Saturday after Thanksgiving, 3years and 7 days since Jeff died. The kids are…Hmm…where are they? Juli, Sam and Sally are playing in the basement. They have a “fort town” down there. Ben spent the night at “naughty kid’s” house, and Joe is still sleeping. This afternoon I will attempt to put up Christmas decorations. I’ll put on my “everything is peachy” outfit, it goes well with my “everything is fine” smile and deck the halls. Fa-la-la-la… and I will once again wonder what to do with all the Jeff ornaments. I will be sucked back into past Christmas’ some make me smile, but some make me cry.
I hate this time of year, but I can do it
Ya know how when you are watching the weather channel and they predict storms you think “Yuck”. You aren’t quite sure what to expect. You tend to think back to the last storm and wonder if it will be that severe, or you may think back to the worst storm you ever experienced and wonder if it will be as horible. You also may think back to the worst storm you ever heard about and hope it’s not nearly as tramatic.
One think I “like” about being a widow and having “weathered” the worst storm imagineable is that now I just think to myself… “Hmmm…it can’t be nearly as bad as losing my husband, so whatever it is will be okay” Once you’ve made it through the worst everything else is a bump in the road. Kind of odd, but yet also kind of comforting.
There is no real point to this post, just a random thought, maybe I’ll expand on later, but for now, I’ll simply ponder…
I hope this week brings you all great big belly laughs and quiet moments of contentment.
Darn dog forgot some Noodles… I’m hoping that there are not more hidden stashes.
Really, it doesn’t rain in my house (unless you count Noodles) Ben is such a good brother. Sally loves hanging out with him.
It’s hard work playing all day. That bin is what they use for a car. She was exhausted. Oh, and the marker on her face, I didn’t do it, Sam did. He made both him and her tears. And yes, she stayed in her jammies all day, but so did I. That’s okay right?
Ben and Joe insisted on going to school today, how weird is that? What kids ever want to go to school? Why can’t mine be normal? You’d think they’d be happy to miss 2 months of school…But NO… they whine and complain to go. What brats, I even bribed them to stay home, but nope, they made me drive them in. and I bet they expect me to pick them up too. Mmmmwahahaha. *evil grin*
I decided not to pick up the accident report today, I am not in the correct frame of mind to handle it, I will get it tomorrow. They told me that I will only get the front page, and not the witness statements. I think I should get all of it. Something about “privacy” or some other crap. Umm.. Hello, my husband was in that accident, I should be able to find out exactly what happened. It doesn’t seem quite fair to me. Stupid rules.
Yesterday was 11 weeks, I’m not sure how I have survived this long. I want to be “proud” of making it this fair, but in reality it’s getting harder and harder to keep myself “up” It would be soo easy to give in and be a crying, mopey, whiney mess, it would be so easy to not get out of bed, it would be so easy to visit the psych ward for the week. Heck, the psych ward sounds like a vacation to me right now. But I won’t give in, I promised Jeff. I will do the very best I can and at least stay positive in front of the kids, and then I will sob all night long into his pillow. Thank goodness the kids didn’t throw Noodles in my room, otherwise I might actually be mad at them. Silly Monkeys.
*have you decided which lonely people to send Valentines to yet? Don’t forget*