February 25, 2007

Its been a rough weekend so far. Yesterday it hit me how tired I am. I'm emotionally and physically exhausted. Just yesterday morning I had to drop Camryn off at preschool, spend 20 minutes at the bank dealing with our memorial fund, come home and get some paper work together, go pick Camryn up, meet with a lawyer and with my insurance agent....all this before 12:00. I'm just drained. I stay up until 2 or 3am every night, feel like I run circles trying to keep up with the cleaning and laundry....and nevre get a break. Both kids end up in bed with me every night....which is not very comfortable anymore now that I'm 25 weeks pregnant.

I think everything caught up with me this week. By yesterday after noon I felt like I was either going to die of exhaustion or at the very least have a nervous breakdown. Luckliy, Melissa volunteered to keep the kids for the night and give me a break. During my 24 hours without them I went to the cemetery, cleaned the house, did 6 loads of laundry, ironed clothes, and met with some of Joe's friends (trying to get ready to sell all his belongings) It was a nice break from the kids, but it wasn't very relaxing. Its strange because I'm always so busy and just wish for some alone time to sit and do nothing, but when I finally have that time I can't sit still. If I sit still for more than 2 minutes, I start to feel myself about to break down and have to get up and find something to do. I can't stand the silence of sitting quietly. I'm completely wearing myself out.

Its hard to go in the shop and see all of Joe's tools and equipment being priced. I know its something I have to do, and I know he would want me to, but it doesn't make it any easier. I can look around in there and can practically see him standing at his bike lift working on his bike. I can envision the kids running around at his feet trying to help him, like they did so many weekend afternoons. I can remember so vividly sitting on the stool beside him, drinking a beer, and just talking for hours while the kids slept inside. There's memories everywhere I turn. But I keep reminding myself that its just stuff.....what would Joe want me to do? I know the answer to that....he'd sell it in a heartbeat.

I used to cry every time he would leave me here to go on a trip, even just for a weekend, even for work. He hated that! He said I made him feel so guilty for leaving. I knew it made him feel bad, and thats partially why I did it. I hated being here without him, and I wanted him to know it. I would count the hours until he's be home. Last year when he was working the hurricane damage, I cried everyday on the phone wth him. I didn't want him there. He would be gone for 1-2 weeks at a time, and I thought it was the worst thing in the world.When he would call to say he was coming home for the weekend the kids and I would be so excited. I can remember him hating it too. One night he came home after being gone for two weeks and he swore that Dylan had grown since last time he had seen him. I could see on his face and in his voice how much that bothered him. Our family was so important to both of us, and we didn't like it being split up. The kids and I wanted him here, and he wanted to be here with us as well.

Its been 4 months since he died and I think its just starting to hit me that he's really gone....forever. I was driving home tonight with the kids and I caught myself thinking about how excited Dylan and Camryn would be if he walked in the house. And then it hit me....that will never happen. It was a scary realization.The idea of never seeing him again is more than I can take. Its like my mind still can't even process that thought. When we got married I remember thinking that the word "forever" seemed daunting.....but that word has become even scarier now. To know that I have to live the rest of my life without him, forever, is the scariest thing I've ever had to face.

And I have another excerpt from a book that sums up my feelings perfectly:

"If only I knew it wouldn't be so long before I saw him again, Lord, I could get through this.

If only I knew that I could see him once a year for a week, I could handle being a widow. Not easily. But it would be better than the indefinite wait.

There would still be the dark days. But at least there would be a light in this long tunnel of grief.
If only I could be with him.....

*for a week, once a year. Just one week out of 52. Is that asking too much?

*all right, so maybe even just for a day, one day out of 365. Surely you could spare one day out of an eternity of them?

*Or even an hour a year. One hour out of 8,760. Surely that is not unreasonable, Lord?
I'd promise not to ask him any questions that would disclose trade secrets. Like....

*What do you do where you are now? Are there really choirs of angels? What is the eternal He like?

*Who is there with you? Who is not?

*What is going to happen tomorrow? Will the children have happy lives?

*What is the answer to the problem of suffering?

*Will the stock market go up or down?

*How does it feel in transition?

*When do I finally join you? How will it happen? Should I worry about making it at all?
Even if I asked, he wouldn't answer, Lord. You know how careful he was about keeping confidences.

And if there's any question, I'll gladly sign whatever contract you wish. "The party of the second part (that's me) agrees not to ask any questions about what goes on After. And the party of the first part (that's You) agrees that X can spend one hour each year with his wife."
If its a problem, he and I don't even need to talk. Just sitting holding hands would be fine, and to see him smile once again. Could the children be there too, for maybe 15 minutes? Or am I pushing my luck?

Yes, I realize that he is in a more advanced state now, one I cannot even begin to comprehend. So maybe if we did talk, it would be hard for me to understand him. But thats okay, too. Anyway, maybe you could temporarily block out or delete the advanced knowledge. I would be perfectly happy to see him just the way he was.

I know Lord, it would mean my having to let him go again, until next time. And that would never be easy. No matter how many times I do it. But it would also mean being able to say hello again the next time, instead of waiting it out along the long corridor of years.
I know, Lord, his spirit is with me now. And don't get me wrong. I am very grateful for that.
But still, would it be asking too much to ask for more? Just one hour out of so many?
Would it be so difficult? For you who raised the mountains from the sea and scattered the stars and envisioned giraffes and butterflies?

Could you not let me have just one week, one day, one hour? To get me through until I join You and all the others and the hour moves out of time?"