The Grief Season

This morning I woke up happy and tired because I stayed up too late watching Nurse Jackie episodes. I did everything as usual. Hit the snooze a couple times. Got up to feed the cats. Got my coffee. Read the Bible. Looked at the weather. Hoped for snow. Woke up my son. Fought to get him out of bed until I had to drag him out by his blankie.

He walked to his calendar with puppies on it and as he circled today's date, it hit me. I said, "Today is the day that Daddy and I got married." No comment from Mr. Pajamas. We went about our business of getting dressed and brushing teeth. And as I was making our lunches, I started to think about how long it has been since we got married, our wedding day, and everything R has missed since he died. Or maybe not missed, if he is hanging out with us in spirit. But his son certainly has missed his Daddy being there. And that is what pains me the most.

I found myself apologizing to him over and over. Hot tears streamed down my face. I'm sorry you have missed so much. I'm sorry you are not here. I'm sorry that we didn't communicate well. If you had just talked to me. I was supposed to be your BFF. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... 
I know he wouldn't want me to keep apologizing, but it's just what is natural. What can I do now? What can I say now? Nothing. He is gone.

Suddenly I became angry. Angry as hell. Angry at everything. You did this to us. WHY? Do you see the hell that we have been through? Look at me! Trying to make a sandwich and crying all over it!

The only way to keep it in check is to remember WHY I am angry. It's grief rearing it's head again. I lost someone. It turned our lives upside down. We went through trauma. But things are finally starting to come together, looking like I really will get a new beginning after all.

And this is what I must remember. Grief will come and go. But, now I am healthy and happy. So healthy that I just recently came off of my anti-depressant medication. 3.5 years after his death. That's how long it took me. This is a big, huge deal! There was a point where I resigned myself to likely being on an anti-depressant for the rest of my life. When I realized how much of my energy it might be stifling, I wanted to get off of them, but not until I was ready. I have been trudging through everyday, one day at a time, trying to keep up with exercise and eating well and keeping positive thoughts. It takes discipline, I tell you.

We got married on January 20, 9 years ago. Life is so busy now that writing this blog might be the only time I get to sit and reflect today. But I have a feeling it will permeate my thoughts all day long.

I'm so glad the grief anniversary season is coming to an end. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, the wedding anniversary, my son's birthday. All of this happens within 3 months. And then not too far off is Mother's day, and then Father's day. And not too long after that is the anniversary of his death. It never ends, really. There are memories not just in these special days, but the every ordinary day, too. Like making a sandwich. What is it about a sandwich? R used to come home for lunch everyday and while he was on his way home he would text me and ask me to make him a sandwich. And I happily did that for him, eager to spend a little time together during the day. Today it was a trigger for tears. Most days it's not; but today is just one of those days when grief gets intertwined with my new life.

Tomorrow Would Be His 41st

I wanted to throw him a big party for his 40th, but he was 38 when he took his life.

I still look back often and can't believe it happened. Just about everyday I ask myself, how did this happen? How did I get here?

 

He was a gifted guitar player, a strong Judo player, loved animals to the point of rescuing wild birds :-)

Was kind, wanted to give back, cared about family, liked to have fun (which I have learned is a very big deal). He was fiercely loyal and I always loved that quality about him. Robert was FUNNY. In a good way, not in a dirty jokes or sarcastic kind of way, but like an intelligent sort of humor- like you hear on NPR during their games shows, or just a simple play on words that makes you feel like a giggly 12 year old. We laughed together many times at the beavis & butthead kind of jokes, mostly because we were laughing at ourselves. :-) Those are the times I miss the most- laughing together. I can hear his laugh so clearly. It was an honest belly laugh. My son has the same kind of laugh when something is REALLY funny, ever since he was a little baby. I feel like we carry that on in our relationship, even if it is different now, that part of it is still the same. I tell those funny, silly jokes to my son now. And then I tell him how Daddy would have thought that was funny.  :-)

 

Today we had a small purple butterfly playing with our puppy that stuck around for quite a while, putting itself into harrowing danger- the jaws and paws of a puppy!! I thought that is one tough damn butterfly and I thought, it's R. He's here trying to play with all of us. You might think that sounds crazy, but look around on the Alliance of Hope forums; plenty of people believe their loved ones come to them for a "visit" in the form of an animal.

 

If you knew R, please take some time tomorrow to say hello and happy birthday to him :-)

My son and I will be honoring him in many different ways.

 

 

The Waves Keep Coming

My son's birthday was a couple of weeks ago. It's always a hard time for me, watching the festivities go on without R. Suddenly I am tearing up at the smallest things. I know he is watching, but he is not here with us. I feel bad for my son, not having his Daddy there. It was a whirlwind of a week with all the grandparents coming to visit and two parties, plus a party at school... after the PARTY party, on Saturday, I think I just hit my breaking point. Sunday, I was so depressed. I had a good cry that night, you know the kind where the pain in your chest will not go away; actual heartache.  I cried myself to sleep. There have been many nights like that for me- I cry until I fall asleep. And when I get up in the morning tissues tumble onto the ground and I discover them in the pillows, etc... My tears are like parts of me that I leave around. Finding tissues that I unknowingly stuffed into the covers or the pillows is like finding little pieces of me that died. I cried this and that out, and here it is in this tissue. But the next day is always better and I can pick up those little pieces of me and throw them away. Gone. Moving on to a happier place. Having a good cry like that leaves me feeling raw and honest. Nothing anyone could do is more painful than that, so I don't feel scared of anything. You can't hurt me, I've already been though hell, you see.

Birthday Flowers

The past couple of weeks has been stressful. I have read that loved ones who have passed on may try to get in touch with you around your Birthday. In the last two weeks I have experienced tugging on my shirt while laying in bed (no one else in the room), and R has come to visit me in my dreams at least twice. He walked up to me from no where, kissed me like we were old friends, and then we sat down in plush chairs across from each other and chatted. It felt so real. I had another dream of the same type, where we talked. There was no distress in the dream, just peacefulness. That makes me think that he is trying to tell me he is comfortable and ok where he is.

After waking from those dreams, I was reminded of his tradition of sending me flowers each birthday and valentine's day. It was a very sweet gesture that I loved. What girl doesn't love pretty flowers? That is a special memory; one of the good ones. It's made me miss him. I don't like to admit it, because I feel like it would hurt my fiancé's feelings, but this is my honest forum. It's perfectly normal for me to miss him. Sometimes I feel like I have moved on. I have moved on, but I will never be "moved on." The hard reality is that it just doesn't go away. It's here forever and I have to get used to living with it. It's been two years- that may seem like a long time, but it doesn't feel that way.

I've been feeling a bit depressed the last couple of weeks, too, and there are several things going on in my daily life that would bring stress to any normal person. But, I had an epiphany the other day that part of my irritability may be due to my upcoming birthday (today). This is my third birthday since he died. I am turning 38, the age R was when he killed himself. I cannot imagine not living beyond this year to the next. He was so young; I still can't believe this happened. How could he end his life so young?

I have done a lot of reading about After Death Communication (ADC) and it doesn't feel far-fetched to me. However, it has been said that to experience it, you have to have an open mind to the concept.
After Death Communication Project

Dreams and Nightmares

Last night I had a dream, I would characterize it as a nightmare. In fact, I had a series of nightmares last night that were so wacky I thought for sure I would remember all of them today. I only remember two. The first was of R and me fighting, except he wasn't speaking at all. It was just me doing all the yelling. I took off my engagement ring and threw it at him. I felt betrayed somehow. I feel betrayed by him now, so that is not so far from reality. I have read in some books that when you dream about a deceased loved one, what is really happening is they are trying to get in touch with you. If that is true, was he just letting me yell at him so I could get it out?  Is he so otherworldly and wise now that it is beyond me to understand why he would be okay with that? I believe a little bit of everything. I believe in science, which says that our brains are sorting through things when we dream. I suppose I must admit that I am still sorting through this in my mind. And I also believe in the supernatural, because God himself is supernatural, and therefore his universe must contain some of these things. Where would miracles come from if he were not? Lately I have been thinking about how much time has passed since R's death and how it has almost been 2 years. It feels like it has taken an eternity and yet it has gone by quickly. His birthday was last week; it would have been his 40th. I really cannot believe that it has been this long. It is always close by, because I have flashbacks. They seem to escalate around these "anniversaries." Today I was in an office supply store minding my own business when I heard a song on the radio that came out just about the same time as his death. I immediately and involuntarily felt sick to my stomach. I want to throw-up, I thought. God, make it stop,...ugh I just want to throw up. It stunned me a bit, so I stood there in the middle of the aisle staring at a bunch of leather pad-folios. I don't want to think about it. I know I am supposed to let the thoughts come and let it pass, but it is so hard. It's a horrible thing to think about. I realize now that especially in the first year I was doing a lot of this behavior called "avoidance." It is exactly what it sounds like, which is to avoid anything that reminds a person of the trauma or death. I know that is why I tried so hard to continue with nursing school. It was a brilliant way to avoid dealing with the whole thing. I put it off and put if off- but eventually it breaks through. You cannot avoid for too long before it comes busting through to the surface. I thought I had beat this avoidance behavior by forcing myself to go to therapy when I knew I really needed it. But, I STILL find myself doing it now and then. I just have to remind myself that this is not going to ruin me.

After my last blog entry, I was proud in realizing that I have made some progress in my grief work. The fact that I was able to recognize it is a big deal. Usually when I have a breakdown or a crying spell, whatever you want to call it, it is difficult for me to go on with the rest of the day. But, this time I was able to pick myself up after an hour or two and get my ass out the door. I went to Sam's, walked around kind of confused, in a dream-like state with my eyes burning from the crying and dried sodium all over my face. I looked at other people and wondered if they were dealing with the same thing I was; or was it just me? Am I the only one?

Recurring Dreams

Today is my son's birthday. This is his second birthday without his Daddy. I can't help but think of R today. He is missing this. I bought my son his first basketball  hoop. I tried hard as I could, but could not physically get it together by myself. It reminds me of when we bought our son a trampoline for Christmas and were up until 2 am Christmas Eve putting it together. That was a two-man job for sure and also a pleasant memory for me now. These thoughts have been mostly fleeting, until this afternoon. Coming out of a store and walking to my car, I was nearly brought to my knees with flashbacks, both visual and auditory. My heart started to beat faster while my stomach had a horrible sinking feeling; the kind of feeling you get when you know something bad has happened. Mommy why is daddy hanging in the garage I kept hearing; me screaming his name. I could see him there, eyes closed, looking like he was sleeping, mid-air. Perhaps it might have been provoked by this milestone for my son. Apparently, birthdays, anniversaries and holidays can trigger these sorts of things. But I woke up so happy for my son this morning that I thought I would be just fine. Earlier today I was digging around in R's old tool bag, which still retains the faint smell of our garage. Maybe that was the trigger.

Perhaps my psyche was trying to warn me last night when I had a nightmare about a tornado. This is a recurring dream I have when I am right in the middle of something big, an internal conflict - something that I am trying to find peace with. The dream goes like this: I am walking somewhere or arguing with someone when suddenly a tornado is visible in the distance, or a TV news anchor is shouting to take cover. Panic ensues as I try desperately to find a safe place to go while the tornado goes over me. When I find this spot, it is never perfect. But eventually I have to stay there because I run out of time. I brace myself for impact. I can hear whirling, racing wind outside as it comes close, and it either misses me altogether or passes "through" my hiding spot and I come away with not so much as a scratch. The interpretation of this dream (if you believe in such things) is fairly obvious to me: things may be bad right now, and you might be scared, but you will come through the other side unscathed.