Day 39: 12/14/16
Saturday is the Celebration of Life for Marc. Today, just getting out of bed is a challenge. Saturday is about the joy, the love, the really, really good things Marc brought into the lives of those he has touched. There is no room for sorrow, there is no room for my broken heart.
Day 41: 12/16/16
Today, I am grateful for Moya and the kittehs. They make me get out of bed everyday. If I didn't get out of bed, they would suffer. Medication helps. I know, sounds so simplistic but in reality, the meds keep the deepest, debilitating sorrow at bay. Debilitating sorrow, the sort of sorrow that means I don't give a shit about anything, no other living creature, not even myself. The meds change the lack of caring into a mode of an almost mechanical existence. It allows me to put the grief on the back burner for now.
Tomorrow is the Celebration of Life for Marc. My sister and my friend will be here tonight and they will help me get through the morning and get me to Arlington. Since I decided to celebrate Marc's life, rather than mourn what I have lost, I have been steeling myself for tomorrow. My sister, Dale, is coming to stay at my home so that The Moya is looked after so I can stay at the Celebration with everyone who comes to honor my husband. My friend, Andy, he is here to make certain I have a ride to and from Arlington. They both have their "duties" to carry out and their motivation is their love for me. I am such a lucky woman.
To say I am an incredibly lucky woman sounds like a stark contrast from the subject matter I am writing about. To lose my husband in the prime of our lives does not sound as though I am such a lucky woman - does it? Sounds like exactly the opposite of such sentiment. The truth is, since Marc died, the people Marc and me included in our lives have surrounded me in their love and care. The sort of kind, generous love that has restored some of the "safe-ness" that Marc gave to me. That kind of love makes me an incredibly lucky woman.
Day 44:12/19/16
Saturday was beautiful. Beautiful beyond words. The love, the stories, the laughter. and the joy. There were some tears, I felt the deep sadness that permeated the room. It lay there, mostly quiet, underneath the laughter and the desire to honor Marc. It would have been so easy to allow the sorrow to take over. So easy. Instead, I focused on all of the love and all of the amazing people who were able to come to Arlington and honor Marc's memory.
I saw so many people on Saturday that I had not seen in so many years. Amazing, kind, loving people. I will be forever grateful for Saturday. Forever.
Saturday was simultaneously the best and incredibly difficult day. Yesterday was our 23rd wedding anniversary; I was so incredibly exhausted. Exhausted to the point of numbness. My life will never be anything like I had thought it would be. When Marc proposed to me, he asked, "Will you spend the rest of my life with me?" I did.
Day 46:12/21/16
Robotic.
Today I had lunch with a dear friend whom I had not seen in person for about 25 years. It was good to see Vickie. Her heart is still as kind and loving as ever. Vickie has a sweetness about her that cannot be put into words. I've missed her.
Over lunch we were talking about how I am making it through each day and the best word used to describe my days was "Robotic". My days feel very robotic, yes I have moments of laughter, or a smile, and some of my days are sad and filled with tears, but mostly my days are just robotic. I feel as though someone has flipped a switch in my head and emotions are no longer a part of the daily routine. At least for today. And yesterday. And tomorrow...
Day 48: 12/23/16
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I'll be driving to North Carolina tomorrow to be with my family. I want to cry, but I can't.
Day 51: 12/26/16
In 1999 Marc and I began a tradition of going out for Chinese food on Christmas Day. Except for a couple of Christmases, when we were able to be with family on Christmas, we found a Chinese restaurant for dinner. I know I should
have been happy to be at home with my family yesterday, but the truth is, all I felt was empty. I was surrounded by people - all of whom I love deeply - but I felt completely alone. The entire day I kept thinking that I was still asleep and kept waiting to wake up and discuss with Marc about which Chinese restaurant we were going to be dining at for Christmas dinner.
The feeling of emptiness isn't because it was Christmas, it is because Marc and me ... we actually liked each other. We liked hanging out with each other, going to restaurants, going out for walks at the river or on the Bay. We enjoyed our music and loved sharing new finds with each other. We enjoyed hanging out with each other. Now everything just feels hopelessly empty. Hopelessly, fucking empty.
Most days my house looks like a scene from a chick flick after the leading character has her heart broken by her love interest. Well, I don't eat ice cream so there aren't any empty ice cream cartons laying around but there are lots of empty cookie packages and dirty dishes, and empty glasses.
My socks and shoes are scattered everywhere and clothes only ever seem to land in a pile next to a chair. Once a week I clean it all up. Seriously, what does it matter? Self respect? What ever. At the end of the day, the house is still empty. I am the only one here and I lack the motivation to care. Unlike the chick flick, where the lead character always gets her man back, my man will never walk through the doors again. It doesn't matter how much I wish for him to come back to me, he never will. This empty, messy house isn't a scene from a chick flick, it is my real life and on November 5th, shit really got real.
Saturday is the Celebration of Life for Marc. Today, just getting out of bed is a challenge. Saturday is about the joy, the love, the really, really good things Marc brought into the lives of those he has touched. There is no room for sorrow, there is no room for my broken heart.
Day 41: 12/16/16
Today, I am grateful for Moya and the kittehs. They make me get out of bed everyday. If I didn't get out of bed, they would suffer. Medication helps. I know, sounds so simplistic but in reality, the meds keep the deepest, debilitating sorrow at bay. Debilitating sorrow, the sort of sorrow that means I don't give a shit about anything, no other living creature, not even myself. The meds change the lack of caring into a mode of an almost mechanical existence. It allows me to put the grief on the back burner for now.
Tomorrow is the Celebration of Life for Marc. My sister and my friend will be here tonight and they will help me get through the morning and get me to Arlington. Since I decided to celebrate Marc's life, rather than mourn what I have lost, I have been steeling myself for tomorrow. My sister, Dale, is coming to stay at my home so that The Moya is looked after so I can stay at the Celebration with everyone who comes to honor my husband. My friend, Andy, he is here to make certain I have a ride to and from Arlington. They both have their "duties" to carry out and their motivation is their love for me. I am such a lucky woman.
To say I am an incredibly lucky woman sounds like a stark contrast from the subject matter I am writing about. To lose my husband in the prime of our lives does not sound as though I am such a lucky woman - does it? Sounds like exactly the opposite of such sentiment. The truth is, since Marc died, the people Marc and me included in our lives have surrounded me in their love and care. The sort of kind, generous love that has restored some of the "safe-ness" that Marc gave to me. That kind of love makes me an incredibly lucky woman.
Day 44:12/19/16
Saturday was beautiful. Beautiful beyond words. The love, the stories, the laughter. and the joy. There were some tears, I felt the deep sadness that permeated the room. It lay there, mostly quiet, underneath the laughter and the desire to honor Marc. It would have been so easy to allow the sorrow to take over. So easy. Instead, I focused on all of the love and all of the amazing people who were able to come to Arlington and honor Marc's memory.
I saw so many people on Saturday that I had not seen in so many years. Amazing, kind, loving people. I will be forever grateful for Saturday. Forever.
Saturday was simultaneously the best and incredibly difficult day. Yesterday was our 23rd wedding anniversary; I was so incredibly exhausted. Exhausted to the point of numbness. My life will never be anything like I had thought it would be. When Marc proposed to me, he asked, "Will you spend the rest of my life with me?" I did.
Day 46:12/21/16
Robotic.
Today I had lunch with a dear friend whom I had not seen in person for about 25 years. It was good to see Vickie. Her heart is still as kind and loving as ever. Vickie has a sweetness about her that cannot be put into words. I've missed her.
Over lunch we were talking about how I am making it through each day and the best word used to describe my days was "Robotic". My days feel very robotic, yes I have moments of laughter, or a smile, and some of my days are sad and filled with tears, but mostly my days are just robotic. I feel as though someone has flipped a switch in my head and emotions are no longer a part of the daily routine. At least for today. And yesterday. And tomorrow...
Day 48: 12/23/16
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I'll be driving to North Carolina tomorrow to be with my family. I want to cry, but I can't.
Day 51: 12/26/16
In 1999 Marc and I began a tradition of going out for Chinese food on Christmas Day. Except for a couple of Christmases, when we were able to be with family on Christmas, we found a Chinese restaurant for dinner. I know I should
have been happy to be at home with my family yesterday, but the truth is, all I felt was empty. I was surrounded by people - all of whom I love deeply - but I felt completely alone. The entire day I kept thinking that I was still asleep and kept waiting to wake up and discuss with Marc about which Chinese restaurant we were going to be dining at for Christmas dinner.
The feeling of emptiness isn't because it was Christmas, it is because Marc and me ... we actually liked each other. We liked hanging out with each other, going to restaurants, going out for walks at the river or on the Bay. We enjoyed our music and loved sharing new finds with each other. We enjoyed hanging out with each other. Now everything just feels hopelessly empty. Hopelessly, fucking empty.
Most days my house looks like a scene from a chick flick after the leading character has her heart broken by her love interest. Well, I don't eat ice cream so there aren't any empty ice cream cartons laying around but there are lots of empty cookie packages and dirty dishes, and empty glasses.
1 comment:
Di-my heart breaks for you..you are so eloquent in your writing, I'm not sure I could move at al, much less type on a key board. Still so inspired by your words. Btw, your spacecis spotless compared to my house most days!
PS I love meds. They can make life bearable until you can slowly wake up from the horrrific dream. Xoxo
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