Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Some Days...

  This is a whiney, self-indulgent, gonna-regret-it-later post. So, if you don't wish to read uninspiring complaining, click the back button now.

  Some days (like yesterday for me) just suck. That is the honest part of this. It's not all "prayers and accepting conversations with God" and rainbows and moving on, blah blah. There is no eloquent or masterful way to put it. Some days are served to me cold, angry and sad and confused with a little more anger, add a side of bitch-slap, with a sprinkling of salt in the wound, all stuffed with pain. And for dessert, some frozen anger-swirled despair. I could keep going... Some nights I cry it out, because all I can think about is how it is so unfair that MY husband had to die that night. That MY kids' father had to be stolen from them. I think all the time about how I wish so hard that Jason's absence was because he had just decided he didn't like me anymore and left me for some silly girl or something. I wish we had just gotten a divorce. I wish he had lied or cheated. Because then it would be HIS fault. And barring truck tons of illegal drug use, he would still be a dad to my girls. Then, I could appropriately hate him and know he wasn't the right person for me. But to know he wanted to be here and fought to live right for his family, it just eats away at my heart.
  It's been over 7 months now. Life keeps on moving. That's the truth. Time takes no prisoners. The girls are growing so much. I am growing, too. Not in the way anyone wants to grow, though. Forced mature growth through pain and suffering? No, don't put me down for that.
  I can't help but soak in how different things look to me now. I look at the people around me and how lucky they don't even know they are. I look at all the sheltered people who haven't experienced real loss or "hard knocks". And I envy them like I've never envied before! I used to think I was tough and so busy. I laugh at that now. But then again, I am sure that the victims of the war/ ISIS/ genocide in the Middle East laugh at me. We all got problems. 
 I know these are all character flaws in an imperfect human being that I am. But even knowing that, it has changed how I feel about people, places, and things. I feel it has changed my relationships with my friends and family around me. Some are worse for the wear. Some for the better. I can't expect them to understand and they can't expect me to be unchanged. 

Not all days feel this heavy. Today I'm better than I was yesterday. The wave of grief that drowned me yesterday has let up for today, I'm sure only to save its torture for another day when I've let my guard down... standing unsuspecting in the surf. Focused on other, brighter things. So I'll just wait... 

But in the meantime, I'll get stronger and better at weathering the storms. It can't rain forever. Most I've heard of to date is 40 days and 40 nights... 

The girls are great, though. I don't let them see "sad mommy". It's my #1 priority. They always come first. I would endure a million fiery deaths to save them from an ounce of pain. If you can't comprehend that, you're not a parent. I would even take another term of Obama in office. This is somehow his fault, right? (Oh, lighten up. It's a joke)


{Ice cream sandwiches}

{Mandatory fussing}

{Tech girls}

{Lila turned 3!}


{Before the ear tubes}

{Harper's favorite chair}


{Don't miss the Dance}

                 To brighter days,

1 comment:

  1. Dear Claire: I recently stumbled across your blog and found how we share this status of widowhood. You see, my husband passed away on April 2, 2014. I'm in my late 40's and our daughter is in college. Yes, we were able to have more years together and I have been told I need to be grateful for the years we had together, but a part of me died, when he left. Your words ring true to my current state of existence that no one around seems to really understand. I appreciate your willingness to share your story. -Shelley