Scene: Driving 20 miles per hour in the pouring rain on I-5 headed North. Next to our Highlander is a truck hauling....a single casket.
As I merged onto the freeway Maya had requested "Daddy's Song." At bedtime this request refers to Three Little Birds. During the day? This request is for Reach For the Sky. Both of my kids love this Social D song.
As the song ended Maya said "Mommy? Why did daddy get up that morning and die? Why did he fall in the bath tub and die? Did he hit his head?"
Looking at her in the rear view mirror, I repeated what has become my answer, "Maya, daddy didn't die because he fell. Daddy's body wasn't working right and nobody knew."
She looked briefly at the truck with the casket and said, "Did his face turn blue?"
I hesitated and blatantly lied. "No Maya, his face was not blue. Daddy's body stopped working."
Maya sighed and looked back out into the rain at the truck carrying the casket and told me how much she misses her daddy.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Last night I read two separate entries addressed to Chris...both brought tears to my eyes and made me angry. I wasn't angry because he is gone and I miss him. I was angry because both of those people can and have felt Chris. I feel like his presence is absent still and that horrifies me.
Chris' laughter and energy filled our house. Now the empty spaces are are difficult to avoid.
The depressing aspect right now is that I am not overwhelmed by Chris' death. Instead I am longing to be a normal person.
Right now, I'm exhausted and want to remember what it was like living among the non-widowed.
Chris' laughter and energy filled our house. Now the empty spaces are are difficult to avoid.
The depressing aspect right now is that I am not overwhelmed by Chris' death. Instead I am longing to be a normal person.
Right now, I'm exhausted and want to remember what it was like living among the non-widowed.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
searing loneliness
I will not be nominated for mother of the year, of that I am fairly certain. Some days, like today, I listen to my responses to my kids and think "Really?!?!" The parent I long to be and the one I currently am have very little in common. The parent I was before 'this' and the parent I am now also seem to lack similarities.
Last week on my run through Target I stopped momentarily to check my list at the end of the car seat aisle. I overheard a very heated discussion, or berating, from a woman. She said "Push the seat in. You are not helping me. Push. Do you realize standing there chewing your gum does me no good. What do you think you're doing?" I looked up to see a very tired mom talking to a maybe 2nd grade boy. In my quick analysis I saw she was wedding ring-less and had the look I see in the mirror each day. Who knows what her real situation is but I wanted to walk over and give her a hug. I wanted to tell her, I know, it sucks, it's hard, we are tired. Instead, when she made eye contact with me and I offered up a weak smile which she shrugged off probably thinking I was judging her previous conversation, not realizing I was instead connecting to that moment she was having.
At one point early in my relationship with Chris he began working nights for a month long stint. He had not worked night shifts consistently at all in the previous year of our relationship. Suddenly, I was a little excited to have the apartment to myself, to watch what I wanted, to lay on the couch and take a nap when I felt like it and just be lazy a bit. That lasted about three nights before the loneliness set in.
Because my parents were able to stay with us much of the first 5 weeks following Chris' death it took longer for it to set in. Instead I moved through anxiety and panic as I got used to my house again sans Chris. The first night here alone I was excited to reclaim my space again. I sat on the couch, surfed the Internet, watched TV, read a book....it felt slightly freeing. Unfortunately, a few nights into it I felt it. The searing loneliness. I know, so many of you reading are saying "Call me Sabrina, it's OK." If I could, I would. In the end, what am I going to say? I feel a lot of shame in calling someone to basically save me from myself. Really it's not that I am longing for some deep conversation, I truly just want a warm body here. I wouldn't ask 'you' to leave your home, your kids, your spouse to come sit in front of the television with me because I truly feel like you should all soak up every minute you have with them. I found those hours with Chris invaluable.
Chris and I had several shows we watched together. After we tag teamed bedtime routines and settled in we would watch a show, debate politics, discuss current events, laugh at Facebook, check out my blog, make plans for the next day, make a 'goody' run, pull the house back together, brainstorm ideas for vacations...we just talked. I miss having another human being who is as invested in my life as I am. I miss having real conversations with real people during those hours before bed.
Tonight the kids were both asleep in bed by 8:10 p.m. I washed some dishes, watched a few minutes of Sister Wives, folded the last load of laundry, and wondered how weird it would be to talk aloud to my dog. People do that, right? I mean, I say things to my dog and cat but I don't carry on one sided conversations. Then I realized, it's not really a substitute for a legitimate person. Even my dog is not as invested in this family as I am.
So, where does that leave me? The past three nights the searing loneliness has been painful. I feel it in my chest. As soon as I shut Maya's door and begin my descent to the living room I notice the heaviness set in. It's a heaviness I have felt only two times in my life. The first was the first three nights after we brought Owen home. Things were going great but all three nights I woke up having a panic attack and had to wake Chris up. He came downstairs with me and held me til things calmed. The second time was the night after Chris died. I slept very little. After a very short nap I woke up feeling like I needed to escape my house. My mom went for a 4 a.m. walk with me around the neighborhood. Tonight, the heaviness isn't out of control like those previously mentioned nights. It's present but I am prepared for it and find ways to calm and distract my mind and body.
In the end, it's one more thing to get used to.
Last week on my run through Target I stopped momentarily to check my list at the end of the car seat aisle. I overheard a very heated discussion, or berating, from a woman. She said "Push the seat in. You are not helping me. Push. Do you realize standing there chewing your gum does me no good. What do you think you're doing?" I looked up to see a very tired mom talking to a maybe 2nd grade boy. In my quick analysis I saw she was wedding ring-less and had the look I see in the mirror each day. Who knows what her real situation is but I wanted to walk over and give her a hug. I wanted to tell her, I know, it sucks, it's hard, we are tired. Instead, when she made eye contact with me and I offered up a weak smile which she shrugged off probably thinking I was judging her previous conversation, not realizing I was instead connecting to that moment she was having.
At one point early in my relationship with Chris he began working nights for a month long stint. He had not worked night shifts consistently at all in the previous year of our relationship. Suddenly, I was a little excited to have the apartment to myself, to watch what I wanted, to lay on the couch and take a nap when I felt like it and just be lazy a bit. That lasted about three nights before the loneliness set in.
Because my parents were able to stay with us much of the first 5 weeks following Chris' death it took longer for it to set in. Instead I moved through anxiety and panic as I got used to my house again sans Chris. The first night here alone I was excited to reclaim my space again. I sat on the couch, surfed the Internet, watched TV, read a book....it felt slightly freeing. Unfortunately, a few nights into it I felt it. The searing loneliness. I know, so many of you reading are saying "Call me Sabrina, it's OK." If I could, I would. In the end, what am I going to say? I feel a lot of shame in calling someone to basically save me from myself. Really it's not that I am longing for some deep conversation, I truly just want a warm body here. I wouldn't ask 'you' to leave your home, your kids, your spouse to come sit in front of the television with me because I truly feel like you should all soak up every minute you have with them. I found those hours with Chris invaluable.
Chris and I had several shows we watched together. After we tag teamed bedtime routines and settled in we would watch a show, debate politics, discuss current events, laugh at Facebook, check out my blog, make plans for the next day, make a 'goody' run, pull the house back together, brainstorm ideas for vacations...we just talked. I miss having another human being who is as invested in my life as I am. I miss having real conversations with real people during those hours before bed.
Tonight the kids were both asleep in bed by 8:10 p.m. I washed some dishes, watched a few minutes of Sister Wives, folded the last load of laundry, and wondered how weird it would be to talk aloud to my dog. People do that, right? I mean, I say things to my dog and cat but I don't carry on one sided conversations. Then I realized, it's not really a substitute for a legitimate person. Even my dog is not as invested in this family as I am.
So, where does that leave me? The past three nights the searing loneliness has been painful. I feel it in my chest. As soon as I shut Maya's door and begin my descent to the living room I notice the heaviness set in. It's a heaviness I have felt only two times in my life. The first was the first three nights after we brought Owen home. Things were going great but all three nights I woke up having a panic attack and had to wake Chris up. He came downstairs with me and held me til things calmed. The second time was the night after Chris died. I slept very little. After a very short nap I woke up feeling like I needed to escape my house. My mom went for a 4 a.m. walk with me around the neighborhood. Tonight, the heaviness isn't out of control like those previously mentioned nights. It's present but I am prepared for it and find ways to calm and distract my mind and body.
In the end, it's one more thing to get used to.
Spring Cleaning
I want to call it spring cleaning...but really it is just a series of chores. My clock says 5:25 p.m., dinner is cooking and I am ready for the kids to go to bed but that is 2.5 hours away, not that I'm counting.
By 9:30 a.m. we were at the grocery store. By 11:30 a.m. 'we' were detailing the car. By 1:30 p.m. Owen was down for a nap and I had completed my 4th load of laundry. By 4:45 p.m. I had had a random visit from an officer here the day of Chris' death, Owen was up, I had vacuumed the entire house, I had cleaned my bathroom and the laundry room and had cleaned out the car seats and reinstalled them. I won't even try to estimate how many times I said "Just wait a minute, please" today because that will just make me crazy guilty.
Too bad I also wanted to scrub the kitchen down, wash both cars, scrub out the fridge, do P90X and stop by to meet our new neighbors. Oh, did I mention shower??? Alas, I am waving my white flag for the day.
Yesterday, I was reminded that being an only parent can be very lonely. Today, I was reminded how physically exhausting it is. I want to say it will be easier when my kids are older, but like everything I believe that there is little truth to that. It's always something, right?
By 9:30 a.m. we were at the grocery store. By 11:30 a.m. 'we' were detailing the car. By 1:30 p.m. Owen was down for a nap and I had completed my 4th load of laundry. By 4:45 p.m. I had had a random visit from an officer here the day of Chris' death, Owen was up, I had vacuumed the entire house, I had cleaned my bathroom and the laundry room and had cleaned out the car seats and reinstalled them. I won't even try to estimate how many times I said "Just wait a minute, please" today because that will just make me crazy guilty.
Too bad I also wanted to scrub the kitchen down, wash both cars, scrub out the fridge, do P90X and stop by to meet our new neighbors. Oh, did I mention shower??? Alas, I am waving my white flag for the day.
Yesterday, I was reminded that being an only parent can be very lonely. Today, I was reminded how physically exhausting it is. I want to say it will be easier when my kids are older, but like everything I believe that there is little truth to that. It's always something, right?
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