Shower

So With this whole journey I have learned something have very mixed emotions for me. The main one being the shower. I feel like in most cases it is my only escape, I can shut myself in there away from everyone, my kids, the phone, the rest of the world who still have their other half. While I am in there however I have learned I can break down if I need to, and often times do. So when I really only need or have time for a quick shower, it kinda backfires and I spend a much longer time in there than intended, and break down. But I also love that feeling of the shower, because if I close my arms it almost feels like he is once again there touching me in his ever so gentle yet firm caress. While this is a nice memory and connection to him, it is also hard.

The other thing that is such a mixed blessing is his grave being right next to my mother's. While I truly mourn the loss of both of them, it is difficult to separate them, and grieve for one or the other when there is such a blatant reminder of them both side by side. Others have said they avoid the cemetery because it reminds them of the loss, and not the good memories, however I revel in the peace and solitude that usually evades me with a house full of our kids. It is some of the only alone time I can muster. But I also enjoy it because I have memories of Kris there. He would go with me to visit my mom's grave, and we would walk in the beautiful pond area and talk, it was peaceful, and gave me a memory of him there, one I don't have of my mom.

My kids, I hate seeing them hurt and I can't do anything to fix it. Often times I would think if I didn't have them I could get through this much easier, but then I realize many times they are what get me through. I just wish I didn't have to see them hurt so much.

The last is this house. It is his parents house, but it was our home the last 6 years. I am grateful for the memories we have here, and while I am not ready to leave it behind, I must. We have been asked to be out by the new year. While I think in the long run it will for the best, I will no longer have any obligations to my in laws, nor be tied to them, it is going to be hard to start somewhere new and know he would be going there with us. It is so hard to think of packing up all his things, and finding a home for them with out him. But perhaps this fresh start will be good for us.

Writing is another (wow when I started this I only had 2 or 3 things in mind, and now this list grows as I write) while it is a huge release, and a way for me to sort out my thoughts, going to school I find I am forced to write things I am not really relating too. I enjoy writing as a release, but because of that, I am hate feeling my emotions come to the surface, I like being able to deal them this way, but it makes other writing hard.

Getting out, I am so tired of being alone, but then I try to get out, go dancing or something, and another guy talks to me or asks me to dance, and I feel guilty at first, then weird to be with another guy, even if for only a few minutes. I really want to just get out on occasion, but when I think I am ready for it, I really am not, no matter how much I want to be.

Keeping busy, it is so good for me to be busy, school, work, extras, kids stuff... but then I think sometimes I get so caught up in the busy I miss out on the other stuff. This is why my job was only part time so one of us could be with kids, so they weren't alone often... and now it is turning into that. I hate it. So much for planning, now I have to be both mom and dad... it is good to keep busy, but am I giving myself time to mourn?

Forgotten...

I survived the first years, thanks to the love and kindness of many friends and family. They would take me out when I seemed down, or show up when I just needed someone.  Others who have lost a spouse have complained that eventually with time, others seem to forget. I just couldn't believe that. I thought for certain this awesome love and support I have had would endure as long as I needed it. Now don't get me wrong, I know they still care for me, and think of me. But I don't feel them being there for me. I miss company on weekends, several invitations to go to a movie, or grab a bite for dinner, something to get me out of my house. But lately I feel if I don't do the inviting, I find myself alone.

I had my first real glimpse of this forgotten feeling the week of the anniversary of his passing. I was already struggling, with not only his anniversary approaching, but other issues in life, and my in-laws choose that week to tell me I must be out by the first of the year. I think they feel that after 1 year I should be ready financially, and emotionally to move on... seriously! Then I have friends from the job I quit, that I worried if I quit I wouldn't see them as often... and I don't. I know they are busy with their own lives, but I miss those friendships. I know before I often was busy, and had to miss out on a lot of things with school, and my job, and kids... but I still would always be invited in case I could make it. Or if I was having an especially tough day I would miss it... but they would understand and still invite me.

Perhaps I am reading way too much into this, which I tend to do often, but I am feeling really lonely lately. I realize I need to get out, but it is hard to do alone, and most of my friends are married. But I still feel like I fit into that category, not single.

Our Last Night...

Sitting here on the eve of the anniversary of his passing, I can't help but picture in great detail the events of this night a year ago. Some of the details i am grateful to have such a clear recollection, others I wish would fade taking with it some of my guilt. I arrived home from work thanks to a kind friend dropping me off. While I sat and talked with her in the car, he came out and told me to hurry and escorted me inside. He had made dinner and gotten kids all ready for bed, but had set up a movie and popcorn and treats to watch a movie as a family, Harry Potter 6 so we were ready for the movie the following week. I argued the kids had school, but he insisted. After eating he asked if I would shave his head. The last act of service I performed for him while still alive. I am so grateful I did not put up the fight I usually did when he asked me this favor. After shaving his head, we laid down to finish watching the movie, since the kids fell asleep. We both fell asleep soon after. But I awoke in the middle of the night to his snoring and decided to go back upstairs so I wouldn't miss the alarm, and would be able to wake everyone up. I wish I had stayed with him all night for what was to be our final night together.

I find myself now, the early morning of the anniversary of his death, unable to sleep. I have remembered him by listening to his memorial services, he was so greatly loved, I just hope he knows that, for it is something he often doubted. He was my soul mate, and truer words were never spoken. We knew each other, understood each other, and connected with each other so deeply we were usually very perceptive of when the other was hurting. Many nights he would try to be quiet while he was ill and not wake me, but even still I would get up, noticing the large presence absent from my side. I wish now I didn't go back to sleep like he would insist, but would have stayed with him until he felt well enough to return to bed. We both knew the day we met we were met to be together. He told his sister he had met the girl he would marry, and I kissed him before I even knew his last name.

I miss him now more than ever. It still feels as if a large hole is missing from me, that despite being filled with love, and generosity, and kindness from family, friends, and strangers even, that missing piece will never again fit properly until I am once again by his side.

I have had some of the most trying weeks of my life recently, as this painful anniversary approaches, I am confident we as a family will get through this as we having with the huge loss of Kris. While I wish he was still by my side, I am grateful for the love and kindness shown to me this past year. For all the things I have accomplished on my own. For how brave my children are in facing this adult situation at such a young age. I have grown stronger for it, and know he has been with me through it, pushing me when I have nearly fallen.

To remember him I asked friends, family, classmates, anyone I have known to remember him on this anniversary in a special way. By performing an act of service, kindness, or compassion for someone else. The commitment I have received has brought a smile to my face every time I think about all those people thinking of him tomorrow. I am now inviting any of you who read this to join us, Saturday the 12th by performing an act of service or kindness towards someone else, and tell me about what you did here, or email me. What a great legacy to pass on from the tragedy of losing ones spouse at such a young age.

Looking back I wish I had posted more often. Someone wise once commented on a post in which I was feeling like I had not grown, nor become more accepting of my loss like I should. This wise person noted that they knew I was getting through because of the space growing between my posts. I feel like this was how I coped, and without writing here, I have been bottling up what I need to let out. So I am going to try to continue to keep this up more as I continue to face difficult challenges in my life, so I can watch as I work through the mix of emotions I have felt.

I made it the first year... not looking forward to the next, but I know I can do it. 

My reoccurring dream...

I hear often of widows or widowers who have lost their love and were blessed with sweet dreams of their lost love... I have not had that. I have been cursed with a dream that reoccurs often, and yet I oddly cling to it. I have put off writing it in all the details until now, and now only because it is haunting me.

I dream  that Kris is back, convinced he never died and trying to get back into his life. But it is not him, it is a grotesque copy of him, not zombie like but not him. Kinda back from the dead, but not really rotting or anything. We all welcome him back like it is not a big deal, but I find myself convincing the kids and him this is not right. He was dead, I saw him dead how is he back and alive, and he just tells me I am crazy and he hasn't even been gone. I am so grateful to have him back, but it is not real, and I know this and it disturbs me. I worry about finding sinking into a comfort zone and realizing it is not right. Then he leaves again. He is just gone, like death caught him escaping and took him back... and then I am stuck dealing with the kids who are once again distraught. I am distraught because of the kids, but relieved he is gone. That doesn't make sense, why would I want to have him gone? I think because I could see it was not really him. My dream varies every time. Like once I tried to keep him from going into work because they would freak out. Then another time I tried to keep him from touching me. And once I had to keep him from taking the car and picking up the kids.

I wish these dreams were pleasant memories of him, or his real self... not this artificial copy. Then I would long for them. But I hate them they leave me confused and frustrated, and yet I want to remain asleep for this glimpse of him... something... anything.

Faith

Now I will be the first one to admit I am NOT the most faithful church goer, or active in my church. But I did read something once about a study conducted that people to regularly attend church, any denomination, live an average of 10 years longer. I am always had my doubts, but found it interesting. This past weekend, I want out with a good friend out with some other widows. The people we went with were very sweet, and caring, and fun to go out with, but I almost feel like they were almost not moving on, or finding a new direction for their lives. I am NOT saying I am doing fantastic either, but in many aspects I think I was more forgiving(?). So I am also wondering if death brings you closer to church and God and such... or pushes you away. I myself find it hard to attend church most weeks and have to work up to it and prepare myself for it. But I see the benefits of clinging to my beliefs, even if I am not actively pursuing them currently. I have met several who have found so much comfort in church, and their faith, perhaps it is the people of your church who make the difference? Maybe the gospel of it? Either way... this post was to let those who worry about me (and my lack of attending church in the past 10 months) know where I stand, and to post my observations of others in my position... and finding something that comforts, and helps in dealing with their losses.

Our Anniversary...

A year ago I was surprised by a spontaneous stay at our favourite B&B. We had gotten the kids all away for the weekend, and were able to spend it together. WE both had work off, so while we were deciding what to do we passed the castle and made up our mind. we ordered our meals in, and ate junk food all weekend. Watched several of our favourite movies, and enjoyed a nice bathtub we both fit in... with bubbles. We hadn't packed anything and so we went to the nearby shopping center and purchased comfy clothes, for our brief outings, and toothbrushes. When we returned we decided to do something fun, just us still... so we went to Boondocks. There were several families there with their kids, and we felt a little guilty not having ours... now I am grateful for that time spend just us. We had a blast, were given happy birthday bracelets for our anniversary (I buried him with his). I carry the leftover tokens for the batting cage in my wallet. I am so glad we got new phones that day, I have a few pictures of him from that because of it...

 This year for my anniversary, the kids knew it would be a tough one for me, so my sweet daughter planned and organized some wonderful surprises for me. Made my favourite dinner, gave me a basket with my favourite treats, had friends write me notes that they were thinking of me. It was hard to not have him there to celebrate... our first one not together... but I was grateful for my sweet kids that helped me through it.

Who am I now?

I always thought I had a pretty good grasp of who I was. What I wanted out of life. Where I was planning to go. There had been several bumps, and forks in my path, but I was always able to know where I was heading personally.

I loved being married. I am not in touch with many friends from high school. Sure I am "friends" with them on facebook... but that is it. I have always had several friends, but they always seemed to change with where I am in my life. As a woman I felt I was always expected to have a best friend... that was a girl. But the truth was my closest friends I could talk to were boys. SO when I married, and I married young, most of my friends went different ways, and I lost touch with all my guy friends, since it wasn't really "appropriate" to continue those close friendships. But with Kris, he knew that I related better, so always included me when he would have his friends over. So I could laugh with them and joke with them.

I am not saying I don't have any girl friends, I have some amazing ones right now and I wouldn't trade them for anything. I just miss the joking around with guys, and hearing their point of view, and yes even the crude stuff I would often just roll my eyes at.

I miss flirting, I loved being a tease and flirting with Kris in front of his friends, I loved them teasing him when I would push it enough to embarrass him. I loved when he would come in my line at my cashier benefit job, and I could totally tease and mess around with him, and watch other customers act a little shocked until I explained he was my husband. I loved when he would come and watch me teach, even if it was for a brief moment. Only a couple weeks before he came in and watched me. I remember seeing him and smiling wondering what he was thinking. After class he told me how much he liked watching me, and he could tell how much I loved it... even when I was yelling.

I have tried going to widow groups and getting to know others who are going through what I am... but they don't know the me from before, so I don't think they get me. My friends are awesome, but I don't think they truly get what I am going through. I am grateful because I have recently reconnected with a friend from jr high and high school... he knew Kris as well, but more important he knows me from before. But I worry a little because he didn't know the married me. The kids kinda get it... but they are kids, and don't understand what I am going through.

I want to feel like me again. I want to finish school, I want to have a career, I want to raise great kids, I want them to succeed, But I don't think I know who I want to be anymore...