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...

Death

Death is NOT fair... it strikes unfairly and hit hard. It has taken my mother, my husband, and now a close friend who was like a grandfather far to soon. Cancer was a factor in all of their losses as well as in both of my grandmothers premature death. My dear friends whose grandfather it was have had to deal with the loss of both their grandfather and their grandfather since February of this year. I have found several widow and loss help websites and they have all been affected by huge losses as well. Perhaps this death being the most recent close death I have experienced since losing Kris it has affected me harder. I know how my close friends are feeling losing their father, husband, grandfather, brother, friend, I am just aching cause I know how painful it is... and I know there is NO way to take away that pain. It is so unfair... and I am so sorry they also have to go through this.

Been a while...

I used to like seeing the gaps in my posts here, I felt it meant I was getting better in dealing with my grief, but my last post proved way opposite. I had held in in for much to long, it exploded. I lashed out with the emotion only a loss like mine could create... an emotion I had kept bottled for far too long. So after that rather depressing post, I got online a couple hours later and felt the warm encouragement, and true understanding of where that emotion came from. But to be honest going back and reading it was a little scary. Scary that after 38 weeks I still have that kind of raw emotion that needs an outlet.

I have tried to not hold it in all the time, if it hits, let it come. I have however still refrained from breaking down in front of my children, who seem to have been having an equally tough time. It still isn't easy, and I am still overwhelmed with everything going on right now plus my emotions. SO I have cut down a little on obligations, and I have tried to find time weekly to make to the cemetery where I feel I can express my emotions in private.

The other thing I have noticed since going back and reading, is that I am almost trying to not remember things about him. It has been so long since I posted a memory or something that reminds me of him. How can I expect the kids to remember how great he is, if I avoid writing down what made him that way?

So here is a memory. SPAM. He loved spam, and I could NEVER understand why. I complained every time he would get it, and finally he stopped getting it because he was tired of me complaining about it. SO the other day in the store (I rarely did the grocery shopping either, he liked it more than I did, since he did most of the cooking) and there it was, SPAM. I laughed to myself, and bought a couple cans. THen I got home and the girls whined, even after I told them why I got it, they refused to eat it when I cooked some up. And it was gross and I will probably never buy it again, except it really made me laugh that day.