Tag Archives: grief

focus

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.

It’s been 3 years

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

-One way-

I was thinking, if all roads were one-way streets I wouldn’t get lost.  If there were no detours or rest stops, or cutesy little tourist traps I would be there already.

I want to be “there”.  I don’t know where there is, but I want to.  I want to know where I am going.  I want to be done “drifting”.  I want to be the one choosing my destination, or at least have some input.

Does the destination determine the journey?  Or is it the journey which determines the destination? 

When you wonder aimlessly, I think, you will end up at a random destination.  Maybe a good place, maybe not.  If not, then you need to begin another journey until you randomly end up at that happy place… You’ll need good shoes.

If you know where your destination is, then you have options.  You can pick the shortest journey, or the prettiest route, or the path that brings you the most peace.  You can go at your own pace, or you can rush.  You can choose to stop at only the rest stops that have vending mechines. 

Once you know where you are going, know where you want to be, it’s easier to get there.  When you don’t, it’s alot of steps in many directions.  Oh, there may be cool suprises, and there might be really neat things to see along the way, but…

It really boils down to is:  What is most important, the journey, or the destination?

Right now I’m sick of the journey.  I want to be “there”.  When Jeff was alive I knew where I was going, I knew what destination I was working towards.  When he died, that destination was scratched off my map.  It no longer existed.  The last almost 14 months I have spent wondering, aimlessly, not knowing, and not feeling, just being.  I’m done. 

I now know where I want to be, I can look at my map and say “here, here is where I am going”.  I can ask for directions, I can track my progress.  I now can choose the path I want to be on, I can take the shortest, the longest, the prettiest or the fun-est. 

No matter what, I know now where I am going.

when bad things happen…

My cousin was killed in a car accident on Sunday.  Why do these things keep happening?  It’s not fair.  He left behind a wife and two little kids, he was only 27.  I spent yesterday in a daze.  I KNOW what his wife is going through, I KNOW how she is feeling, I KNOW how bad it sucks.  I just want to wrap her up in a warm, fuzzy blanket and protect her.  I want to save her from all the yucky stuff, and I don’t even know her that well.  In fact, if I came at her with a blanket she would probably call the cops….

I want to let her know that things get better, but do they?  Not really, they just get different.  Sometimes different is good, sometimes different is bad, but most of the time different is just that: Different. 

Knowing what she is going through has brought me back, back to those first few mind-numbing weeks.  The weeks I don’t really remember much.  The “fog”.  That haze that is so hard to fight through, the haze that keeps the sun from shining.  The haze that pushes down on you and keeps you from feeling.  Oh, how I hated that. 

Luckily, the haze does lift, little, by little.  Small smiles come back.  Little giggles.  Moments of self-confidence, and success.  Surviving each day is success.  Heck, showering is a success.  They return. 

I would love to say that one year is a magic mark.  It’s not, I am discovering.  The one year mark is just a mark of progress, not completion.  I wish I knew when I could be done, I wish I knew when this could be over, but I don’t. 

I don’t think grief is a fixable problem.  Grief is just a process, a process that you can’t avoid.

NINE months

It’s been nine months since Jeff died.  It still seems hard to believe. 

I keep having this same dream- in the dream he is not really dead, he’s just gone, living somewhere far away, I am sad because I miss him so much, but the fact that he is living brings me peace in my dream. 

The kids have all had their first birthday without their dad.  They all got exactly what they asked for.  It still sucked.  Jeff’s birthday is on Friday, he should be 39, not 38 forever.

I really can’t believe I have made it this long without him.  The reality of raising 5 kids alone has really begun to hit me.  The future scares me.  Right now I can’t keep up with everything how in the world am I going to do it once I am working full-time.  The kids will be on their own, they will lose me too.  (okay, slight exageration, but still true)  It’s just not fair, at all.

Why is it that my kids have to grow up without their dad?  I can handle my loss, but it’s the kids’ loss that really hurts me.  They deserve to have their dad with them.  Teaching them, cheering them on, mentoring them, being their buddy and their role-model.  I feel inadiquate.  I can’t fix this, I can’t make it all better.  A band-aid will not fix the sadness they feel.  Moms are supose to make everything all better, I can’t fix this.  I see them look at other families, I see them attach themselves to other kids’ dads.  It breaks my heart.  I just don’t understand how come these kids have to suffer.

School starts soon.  Some of the kids are excited.  I managed to get most of their school clothes bought last weekend.  I think we’ll be ready on time.  I need to get organized.  I keep trying, but then I just give up, it’s easier.  I’ve always been a little bit lazy, but now, I am a slug.  I think I need a nanny, can stay-at-home moms have nannies????

I’ll update again soon, this next week will be nuts…. wish me luck!

Pep-talk

What I have:

I have great kids (well most of the time)

I have great friends (only a phone call away)

I have great family (most of the time 8))

The in-laws are pretty great too

I have an open mind, I can accept what is given to me

I have faith that things will work out (even if it’s not “my” plan)

I have lots of junk food (keeps the kids busy)

I have an understanding of death that brings me peace

I have an acceptance of death (only because I have no choice)

I have pretty fast internet

I have a wonderful fantacy life that I can visit whenever I want

I have fantastic memories

I have loved and been loved

I have a warped sense of humor, I crack myself up at times

I have the ability to be responsible and act like a grwn-up (even if I don’t wanna)

I have lots of upper torso strenth (thanks to splitting wood)

I have very creative housekeeping skills (LOL)

I have the best excuse to be lazy and not get out of bed (although my kids don’t care)

I have hope

I have a nice ass (I may need that later)

I have people who care about me

I have the coolest angel watching over me (even if he tells me what to do)

See, I have no reason to wallow in self pity.  I’m gonna put on my big girl panties and kick some butt.  No more mopey and whiney.  (well, maybe…remind me tomorrow)