And then night comes
the little ones snuggle into
the crook of my arm
breathe sweet warm air, that I
still consider baby breath, on the cheek
curls cascade or straight locks
invade my nose
depending on the child
And it's calm, quiet
And I realize, again, he will see
no more birthdays
for our babies
He cannot hold my hand
And I am crying screaming so loud
with my sound turned
off
so my throat tightens
and all I can say is
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry
I love you
I have nothing to be sorry for
but I am sorry he is gone
and I am still here
He was better than me in so many ways
I'm sorry I couldn't
kill the cancer
I'm sorry for all the stupid I have dumped and will display
and hope my alternating compassion can somehow
make up for it all
So all I can do is cry
silently scream as loud as I can
with my mouth so wide
my jaw hurts
And try to breathe, calm, settle. And
remember I can also still smile, sometimes...
notes and thoughts from a widow and mother of three
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
with me
since my two hour session with my counselor, I have felt John with me. I can see his huge smile more clearly, almost hear him whisper in my ear. almost feel his arms around me.
today at the dermatologist, the sweet girl who brings me in and orders my meds asked how things were going...I tried to smile and not say anything, but she is very kind...so I had to say the two worst words...the ones I say that rock me to my core. they don't always make me cry. but they do make me feel like dying. do not mistake that for suicidal thoughts. I do not have those. i just sometimes wish i could die, because a world without him just seems so imbalanced....so wrong....i told her "he died" and she hugged me and i hid in the bathroom and cried.
and moved on
more or less...
"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight." --Kahlil Gibran
as our daughter says, John, I love you all the way to aliens...
today at the dermatologist, the sweet girl who brings me in and orders my meds asked how things were going...I tried to smile and not say anything, but she is very kind...so I had to say the two worst words...the ones I say that rock me to my core. they don't always make me cry. but they do make me feel like dying. do not mistake that for suicidal thoughts. I do not have those. i just sometimes wish i could die, because a world without him just seems so imbalanced....so wrong....i told her "he died" and she hugged me and i hid in the bathroom and cried.
and moved on
more or less...
"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight." --Kahlil Gibran
as our daughter says, John, I love you all the way to aliens...
Friday, June 7, 2013
brief progression
Today is my second without drinking. After fights and punching holes in walls and screaming tears yesterday, today there was an odd and tentative connection to strength...it was an ok feeling...and I got is Chinese food and dessert from Starbucks, and walked the dogs and even did yoga!
Just breathe. Each tiny step at a time....and remeber even I screw up and do things poorly sometimes and that is part of the journey. It does not define me. I am more than what one or two other people perceive me to be...and when I think about how I was John's wife and how I am the mother to our three amazing kiddos, I know more than anything, I am defined by love, and strength, hope and kindness and adventure and a little bit of crazy...and I like that...
Just breathe. Each tiny step at a time....and remeber even I screw up and do things poorly sometimes and that is part of the journey. It does not define me. I am more than what one or two other people perceive me to be...and when I think about how I was John's wife and how I am the mother to our three amazing kiddos, I know more than anything, I am defined by love, and strength, hope and kindness and adventure and a little bit of crazy...and I like that...
Thursday, June 6, 2013
out of order, expletive ridden, and perhaps a little inappropriate...
with my husband dying at my side, why is it that all the men in my life are distant, nonexistent, disconnected, and scared of even offering comfort...it makes my heart break ten times more, as if that were possible, to see this brave and incredible man I love leaving me...breathing his life away...I am somehow expected to understand that I can't ask too much, because maybe then I will be asking them somehow to take on the responsibility of being a father to my kids or maybe they might have to think for more than one day about how this strong and loving man who was their friend is dying and that is just asking too much...because they can go home, all of them, and things are normal and fine and level. Or, if you are in my family, you can just, well, do nothing at all. Or lie. And lie some more about smaller things, be petty, act like I am being childish for wanting to take responsibility for things...such a childish and selfish thing, to want to try to figure out some sort of financial plan for my future, for the future of my sweet babies...
and while I am at it you cowardly sons of bitches, there isn't ONE of you who is worth one one-hundredth of my John, you can piss off if you think I want you to be their father or their father figure...all I wanted was a connection to this wacky and talented and crazy guy...but I sure am sorry if I asked too much of you....you weak and useless shitheads...
yeah...this one isn't going up*...he's an asshole. men are assholes and weaklings and pieces of shit and none of them are worthy of me and my kids...of course, that sounds like my nanna. maybe the compromise is somewhere between them being shit bags and me being a worthless screw up...find a place where we all mess up and where no one cares... or, well, maybe they care but it doesn't matter...
*guess I changed my mind...in honor of a friend I've never met who I hear blogs whatever is on her mind, although she isn't usually like that...and who sometimes uses the "f" word too much...but I deleted mine, or at least changed them to sightly more "British" curse words ("piss off" always makes me think of Monty Python)
and while I am at it you cowardly sons of bitches, there isn't ONE of you who is worth one one-hundredth of my John, you can piss off if you think I want you to be their father or their father figure...all I wanted was a connection to this wacky and talented and crazy guy...but I sure am sorry if I asked too much of you....you weak and useless shitheads...
yeah...this one isn't going up*...he's an asshole. men are assholes and weaklings and pieces of shit and none of them are worthy of me and my kids...of course, that sounds like my nanna. maybe the compromise is somewhere between them being shit bags and me being a worthless screw up...find a place where we all mess up and where no one cares... or, well, maybe they care but it doesn't matter...
*guess I changed my mind...in honor of a friend I've never met who I hear blogs whatever is on her mind, although she isn't usually like that...and who sometimes uses the "f" word too much...but I deleted mine, or at least changed them to sightly more "British" curse words ("piss off" always makes me think of Monty Python)
phase 2
He died May 22, 2013. I became aware that he was gone at 5:20 in the morning. For the next week, I woke up around 5:00 a.m. every day...Today, I did eye integration therapy with my wonderful wonderful friend/counselor...and I felt John with me. Around me...really, draping his arms around me. smiling. His face right behind my eyes.
I found strength years ago from a friend who hated people. He beleived I was smart and capable and good. I learned to believe that, too...Until I didn't anymore. And then when I found it again, it was when I was alone, and it came to me through chasing down kids who swore like sailors and teaching them that their tiny baby sisters with perfect brown complexions did NOT hate white people; working in a shelter where a teenager attacked and threatened me with a broom for hours before support came while I tried to stay calm, to calm her, to get all the other kids ready for bed and the only reason she didn't beat the shit out of me was the other guy working the shelter that night...I don't think I ever had my heart in my throat longer than that day...yet, I still lost it again...life and trust and hope and relationships seem to do that to me...do they do that to you, too?
I found it again, when I was alone, teaching my very own class of 10 year olds. Far from anyone I knew, far from family, near the water (that often helps me, being near water)...and I found him then. And for the next 12 years all he wanted was for me to keep it. He encouraged me to keep writing, to try trampoline, to dive, to sky dive, to travel, to announce in front of hundreds (literally) while he set himself on fire, to find ways to own pain that went back to early high school so that I could also own letting it go...
You simply cannot control, or take responsibility for, what other people will say or do...as a child who lived through verbal castigation, I not only have triggers (what some call a tendency to over react), I also have a keen sense of waht others are sometimes feeling. And a sense of responsiblity to find a way to keep the others in my life from feeling anything bad because when they feel bad it seems to come back at you two-fold...but that is not who I am, at my core. And I would like to stop trying to function from that sort of mindset...I fear that will be easier said than done, but at least I know what I would like to try to be working on...
"The year of no judgements"...sounds attractive...comforting...there is no "right" way to go through this. There is no guide book. There are no straightforward answers. I will screw up. As will pretty much everyone involved, at one time or another, in one way or another...
Sometimes, I feel like you just need to watch the rain fall. Forget the umbrella and closing the windows. Just let yourself get wet.
I found strength years ago from a friend who hated people. He beleived I was smart and capable and good. I learned to believe that, too...Until I didn't anymore. And then when I found it again, it was when I was alone, and it came to me through chasing down kids who swore like sailors and teaching them that their tiny baby sisters with perfect brown complexions did NOT hate white people; working in a shelter where a teenager attacked and threatened me with a broom for hours before support came while I tried to stay calm, to calm her, to get all the other kids ready for bed and the only reason she didn't beat the shit out of me was the other guy working the shelter that night...I don't think I ever had my heart in my throat longer than that day...yet, I still lost it again...life and trust and hope and relationships seem to do that to me...do they do that to you, too?
I found it again, when I was alone, teaching my very own class of 10 year olds. Far from anyone I knew, far from family, near the water (that often helps me, being near water)...and I found him then. And for the next 12 years all he wanted was for me to keep it. He encouraged me to keep writing, to try trampoline, to dive, to sky dive, to travel, to announce in front of hundreds (literally) while he set himself on fire, to find ways to own pain that went back to early high school so that I could also own letting it go...
You simply cannot control, or take responsibility for, what other people will say or do...as a child who lived through verbal castigation, I not only have triggers (what some call a tendency to over react), I also have a keen sense of waht others are sometimes feeling. And a sense of responsiblity to find a way to keep the others in my life from feeling anything bad because when they feel bad it seems to come back at you two-fold...but that is not who I am, at my core. And I would like to stop trying to function from that sort of mindset...I fear that will be easier said than done, but at least I know what I would like to try to be working on...
"The year of no judgements"...sounds attractive...comforting...there is no "right" way to go through this. There is no guide book. There are no straightforward answers. I will screw up. As will pretty much everyone involved, at one time or another, in one way or another...
Sometimes, I feel like you just need to watch the rain fall. Forget the umbrella and closing the windows. Just let yourself get wet.
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