Runaway Train

By noon I had a raging headache. The funny thing was that I got more sleep last night than I had in awhile.

It started with an early Owen 'wake up call' at 6:20 a.m. Zzzzzzzzzz. That was followed up by a sleepy Maya who wanted to go to the gym so she could play with Addie but was too sleepy to get motivated to help get herself ready. We made it to the gym though not as early as I wanted because the car was encased in frost. Of course I was supposed to get there early so I could reactivate my account which had been on hold during the absence since Chris' death. In a big line of people, I frazzled the man with my request though he figured out a solution which still allowed me to make it to Zumba.

I was anxious about the gym but I love the class. Owen screamed when I put him down and I needed to remind the childcare workers of 'our situation' in case anything came up. Owen recovered quickly but then I walked in to find a substitute Zumba teacher. After being lost for 55 minutes, one of the childcare workers came in to get my friend because her daughter was upset because mine was playing with Owen and not her. Man, that breaks my heart. We both went back and indeed Maya was playing with Owen. Big deal? Not tremendously but I don't like seeing Addison with her feelings hurt and I was already on edge. Oh, did I mention the sun was reflecting off the court and giving me a headache during Zumba? Of course once out at the membership desk again I had to explain why I had 6 months free...then as I pulled out of the driveway Maya asked why I told the lady my husband died. Because...he did. He's dead. As much as I know this is my reality, I seem to have to remind myself I will never have another conversation with him while I am on this Earth. It's like taking a hot poker to myself.

On the way home, I cried. I don't want Maya to become 'that' kid but I cannot for the life of me figure out where to draw the line. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, treat her patiently but at the same time...I want us to come out of this without Maya having become a brat. I am overwhelmed by trying to navigate this alone. I kept thinking that in our 'normal' life I would have called to vent to Chris on the way home and he would have reassured me that it will be fine. He would have offered to take the kids so I could get a break when he got home. He would have had an idea about what to do. But in our 'normal' life Chris wasn't dead. In this abnormal life I am flying solo and calling the shots. You'd think my type A personality would love that part but actually, I loathe it.

I got a shower with Owen banging on the door followed up by Maya's insistence to have Oatmeal for lunch which I conceded to since it just seemed to go with the territory today.

Maya was exhausted so I made her lay down with me and my excruciating headache. I pulled out a book called Samantha Jane's Missing Smile. Now Maya had been asking about Chris all last night last and all day today. She wanted him home, she wanted to talk to him, she wanted to hug him.... No matter what I said or didn't say she kept right on going. It became a whine. It's at that point I started to crack a little. Thus I pulled out the book, a story about a girl whose daddy dies...fitting. Maya murmured in agreement during the book and asked questions about the girl's daddy and her own. She connected. Bittersweet. In moment like this I think, this sucks. This shouldn't be us. But then again, I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

So, what's the big deal? All the minuscule events but, combined, exhausted me physically and emotionally. It overwhelmed me thinking about never having the reprieve of my spouse, my partner, my companion. He got me.

I miss the sound of Chris' Hermanson van pulling into the driveway at 4 p.m. If I could return to our 'normal' life, he could work nights every day until we are old and gray. I hated when he worked nights. I was lonely and didn't like sleeping at the house alone. Now, that is all small stuff. I mind the loneliness but I just miss him. Plain and simple.

At bed time Maya was back at the questions. She wanted to read the book again but this time we talked about some of the fun things she used to do with her daddy. I don't know if it's good or bad. At one point she told me she wanted to go to heaven with daddy. I totally get it. I have had moments I thought, why couldn't we have all gone at once? Nobody left to feel the emptiness in our home or question the feelings of anger and abandonment. Or, like I do, question the guilt in why I wasn't alarmed by the thud or how I feel like I let our friends and family down by not being the hero that Wednesday morning. If only it were all so easily rewritten like a 'choose your own adventure' book where you could go back and choose a new path if you didn't like where yours was going.

I hate where mine is going. It feels strangely akin to a runaway train.