Teary day today. Didn’t sleep again. I couldn’t even hang out with Levi tonight, which makes me feel bad. I just spent the evening alone trying to get a handle on myself somehow. This Friday will be 7 months. Why those anniversaries seem to be hitting me hard I’m not really sure. Maybe because I feel like I’m getting pulled further and further away from Jason…and I don’t want to be. I want to be back in his arms…instead of forward into a future without him.
This song has been on repeat a lot for me lately..
The last few days have been a little better for me. I met a really good friend for dinner on Thursday. We have been friends for over 20 years and she is one of a select handful of people that I can talk to “undiluted”. I cried and felt pretty raw a few times, but just being able to talk openly and feel HEARD was something that I desperately needed…this week especially.
Levi and I decided to tackle the painting of our living room this weekend. We enlisted our friends Erik and Edith to help today. Last night Levi and I worked on prep…getting the room cleaned out…taking off receptacle covers. The painting went really well today and we’re happy with how it turned out. I have never painted before. Painting was always Jason’s realm while I entertained the kids. Sometimes Jeremy would come over and help him. It does feel good to do projects around the house with Levi. I think it gives both of our brains something else to think about and helps us bond.
I still haven’t been sleeping well. Last night I think one of the dogs was snoring and in my sleep it sounded like Jason’s last breaths. Horrible…so horrible…and very hard to calm myself down and go back to sleep after that. I had to get my phone out and scroll through pictures of happier times to get my brain out of it’s “hospice loop”. It’s scary feeling hijacked by my own thoughts and memories at times when I can’t or don’t want to deal with them.
Pain of Memory
Salt flavors my wine
As tears run down my face.
I take a sip anyway
Anything to ease this ache.
I can’t stop replaying
Those days in my head-
Watching you dying
Gasping for breath in that bed.
Those days haunt my dreams-
Asleep and awake-
The memories hurt
How much more can I take?
But do I want to forget?
That scares me too
Because if I forget
What is left of you?
So I try to take the pain
Welcome it in
Until I’m drowning in tears
That won’t stop flowing.
In my post on Saturday I shared that I had woken up thinking about Jason’s last five days. The ones that he spent in hospice care at home. Those days have not stopped replaying in my head over and over again. I’ll be at work and suddenly thinking “Oh my God I don’t remember what the last thing he said to me was”. What kind of person am I that I can’t remember that? What was the last thing I said to him? I don’t know.
I haven’t been sleeping well. My focus is all off. I’m trying to re-discover my motivation to do anything in my house….which…other than the basement…is a huge disaster. I can’t even park in the garage. I had a meeting scheduled with my finance guy that I cancelled. We have a huge event at work for the next four days. I feel like I should offer to work a little bit on Saturday and Sunday if needed…and I just can’t do it. I always work a shorter day on Wednesdays. I got in my car today after work and just couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. I don’t even really know why I was crying.
I had my grief counseling group today and the therapist said that I have PTSD. Which I guess makes sense. I just know I don’t feel “okay”. Most of the time I don’t even feel like I’m in my own body. I’m just watching myself go through the motions. Until I’m at home by myself crying into my wine glass.
Last night I had a dream that Jason and I were spending a weekend away at a VRBO. He took my hand and led me into the bathroom where he had filled the bathtub up for me…bubbles and everything. Of course, my thought in the dream was “I wonder if the tub is big enough for two?”….or maybe he’s just trying to tell me I need to relax and chill the eff out…or maybe he’s not telling me anything and it was just a stupid dream.
I was thinking about hands a lot yesterday. I’m sure most of you have read, or at least heard of, “The 5 Love Languages” by Gary Chapman…in it he talks about the 5 different ways you can show someone that you love them…and about how different people need to be shown that love in different ways…in their language. One of Jason’s top love languages is Acts of Service. He loved it when I would do little things for him…make his lunch, get his car washed, do his laundry, cut his hair. One of my top love languages is physical touch…holding hands, putting my feet in his lap, kissing, cuddling, hugging…all of that makes me feel loved and secure. If you don’t know what your loved one’s “love language” is you should definitely read the book and figure it out.
All my thinking about hands, of course turned into a poem about Jason’s hands.
My Love's Hands
His hands
I remember his hands
I can feel his touch
When I close my eyes
Fingers intertwined
In mine
His hand on my thigh
Riding in the car
My thumb rubbing the
Smooth, flat spot on his thumbnail
Thumbs drying my cheeks
When the tears fall like rain
Words are often elusive
But his hands are always there
Clapping hands supporting me
From the sidelines
From 5k to 26.2
To tennis match
A sassy slap on the butt
While I make dinner
A caress, a stroke
Building heat
A golden band on his finger
And on mine
Promises of forever
That only he gets to keep
Now my hand reaches out
And grasps the air
The spaces between my fingers
Yearn for his to fill them
And my forever feels empty
Stretching to eternity
Rough morning today. I woke up with my brain replaying the hospice days in my head. I know it’s because I was looking at pictures last night and ran across one that I don’t remember seeing before. Jason is sleeping in the hospital bed in our living room and I am sleeping curled up on the sofa next to him holding his hand. On the edge of the picture on the other side you can see that Jeremy is holding his other hand. I don’t have a lot of pictures from those hospice days. How I don’t remember seeing this one before I have no idea…but it really hit me last night.
I feel like there’s a lot of things I just don’t remember from the days of hospice until Jason’s funeral. Maybe my brain and emotions are just too overloaded. Maybe it’s too painful to remember. I don’t know. I remember leaning on Jeremy and Cheryl a lot…maybe too much. I remember feeling like my little house of cards that I had worked so hard to keep bolstered up was all crashing down on top of me…and I was powerless to stop it. In the end, my will and my love wasn’t enough.
Now I’m trying to rebuild my house of cards. Jason and I built such a strong foundation together. That’s still there at least. It’s hard to find the heart to put into it though.
I have also been doing work in my actual house…with help from family and friends. We cleaned out our basement and bought new furniture. It’s a great place to hang out now. I also am waiting on new furniture for the living room, and am going to paint the living room walls. Trying to freshen things up a bit so the kids and I can feel comfortable and make more new good memories in this house.
I’m curled up in the front of the fireplace with the dogs tonight…glass of wine in hand. I’m missing Jason, but the day was not as hard as I thought it was going to be. Maybe because I went back to work today and I was so busy catching up after being sick for a week I didn’t have much time to be sad. I also really felt the love today at work with everyone happy to see me back.
Yesterday our kids surprised me by getting me flowers and chocolate-covered strawberries. I did have a brief moment when I opened the door for the flower delivery when my first thought was “oh! Jason got me flowers!”…before I remembered how impossible that was. I feel proud that our kids watched and learned from how we celebrated Valentine’s Day and realized how sad I would be. Hopefully that carries over to how they treat their own significant others…when they get them. Everyone loves to feel a little special!
Our hearts recognized each other
His and mine.
They beat together
Keeping time.
They spoke to each other
When we first met.
That we ended up together
Was no accident.
It was a hitch in the rhythm
A subtle shift in space.
Then our hearts beat as one
Each keeping pace.
Our heart language was beautiful-
Bright and full of light.
It shone through our eyes
And linked our souls tight.
Our hearts were so happy
Looking forward to forever-
Then his heart was silenced
And mine can’t recover.
It struggles to beat solo.
It’s rhythm--scattered.
It’s heart light grows dim
Bleeding, bruised, battered.
Finally feeling a little better today. I had a little more energy to do small things around the house…worked on the last three big finance pieces I have to get straightened out…spoke with my finance guy…getting the “stuff” all figured out. I at least felt productive in between bouts of coughing uncontrollably and needing to rest for a bit.
I’ve had really good people checking on me and taking care of me. My Terri made me homemade chicken noodle soup and a really good purely medicinal brandy “potion”. She also brought chocolate and crossword puzzles. It’s like she knows me or something. My neighbor brought over some yummy bread….carbs can make most things better I’m pretty sure. Jeremy and Cheryl brought me cough medicine and covid tests…so Levi could test…he’s fine. Thanks to everyone that texted or called as well. Very much appreciated when I’m feeling very lonely.
Seth called me on Monday. I hadn’t spoken with him in awhile and it was really good to hear his voice. He sounded happy and content…like things are finally coming together for him after an extremely rough couple of years. I’m glad that he decided to take the plunge and start school. I think it was also a good move for him to get out of the house…even thought he could’ve taken all of his classes online. The change has seemed to do him a lot of good. It makes my Mama heart happy. I did tell him he needs to find some people to play tennis with. There’s a small indoor club in Wausau and I hope he checks it out.
When I look back, it was actually Friday that I started not feeling well, but I brushed it off as the ill effects of crying a lot. Then I woke up yesterday definitely not feeling well…low-grade temp, sore throat, headache, body aches, and a cough. I took a covid test at Noon today and it came back positive. I don’t know if I was lucky enough to get covid twice a month apart, or if it wasn’t gone and is back, or if I have something else entirely and the test was wrong. Only thing I know for sure is I feel pretty horrible.
In 2016 Jason and I took a trip to Belize. I remember us having a conversation on the plane out of the country about how maybe we should have gotten our Will done before going on vacation to a Third World country together. Obviously everything turned out fine and we had an awesome vacation and made it back whole and healthy.
Belize!
That conversation came back to me last night as I was awake coughing in bed…having a hard time catching my breath. And I thought “Nope. Can’t go yet. We never did make up that Will and everything is still such a mess. I refuse to leave that for the kids to figure out”. To be clear, I am not going anywhere anytime soon….everything just seems a little worse when it’s the middle of the night and I’m alone.
I do think quite a bit about how I want to leave things for my kids though…probably because “stuff” has been a bit of a mess for me. I did mention to Jason a few times in the 15 months that he was sick that we could maybe put some things in my name ahead of time…but his brain was just incapable of comprehending what that all meant…and I didn’t have the heart to push it.
I don’t want my kids to have to deal with a lot of “stuff” while they are grieving me. If I have my way I’ll have sold my house…gotten rid of a lot of my stuff…and be in an apartment somewhere with a dog. All the finances will be tied up in a bow and the most they will have to worry about is who gets to keep the dog…who will be adorable. They can cremate me and spread my ashes with Jason’s somewhere. I don’t care where, because I will already be with him at that point.
My post got a little big morbid, but I remember someone…I think Jason’s nurse…saying at one point “Talking about death doesn’t make it happen faster…and not talking about it doesn’t hold it off” Very true.
Yesterday, was the six month anniversary of Jason’s death. Only six months…already six months…either way when I think about it I start to hyperventilate.
On Thursday morning I got to work and immediately knew that there was no way I was going to be able to work Friday. I had it in my head that I wanted to go to Alexandria for the day. Jason and I stayed at a little cabin there for our 20th wedding anniversary. He had had one surgery at that point and hadn’t had any seizures yet. It was the last time he and I got away. The last time he was still himself. Yes, he had headaches and was tired, but we were happy. A little over a month later he had his first seizure and the downward spiral quickened.
Right by the cabin there is a public boat landing and fishing pier and I just wanted to sit there and try to feel close to him somehow. Maybe go out to lunch at Lure Lake Bar…where we went and had dinner on the patio and listened to live music.
Winter put a crimp in my plans…snowing when I woke up…cold…it just didn’t seem like a practical plan. I miss him so much. I would do anything to just somehow feel him close to me…instead I just feel alone, an outsider, a novelty…like people are watching me to see what I’ll do next. Some days I’m pretty sure I’m going to break…somehow I keep going whether I want to or not. I’m not strong. I just keep doing what needs to be done.
It was a pretty horrible day. I tried to get some stuff done around the house. I wrote a lot…but nothing that anyone should ever read. I cried and cried and cried. I saw Jeremy and Cheryl….tried to pick myself up a little bit…
6 months…maybe that’s when the shock wears off and reality hits like a effing sledgehammer. “You don’t deserve happiness” BAM “You held your love in your arms and watched him die” BAM “You can’t do this on your own” BAM “Your future is a big black hole” BAM “You have nothing to look forward to” BAM “You are not enough for your kids” BAM “It should have been you” BAM BAM BAM
Ironically, it feels like six months is when society thinks some “moving on” should be happening. Well, that’s just complete bullshit.
Love, Tennis, and Cancer 