Today Lucas curled up on the couch with me and watched two quarters of the Carolina Panther game. Two quarters is a long time to keep his attention. This was the first football game that he was really engaged in. He has watched parts of many but this was a real interest. The game ended up becoming very close in the final seconds. The Panthers kicked a field goal to win for three. Lucas had gone upstairs to play in the playroom and I just broke down. I haven't done this in a while. I just couldn't get past how much Daniel would have enjoyed this afternoon with him today. Daniel wanted him to be involved in sports. We are both strong believers in what team sports can offer a child. Feeling that involvement and sharing that with him would have been better than anything for Daniel. It's funny how the loss hits you at different times for different reasons. I'm sure it's a combination of the time of the year. Of the many things I have going on and am trying to juggle but the dam opened once again today. Be ready for it to strike at any given time. Grief is like that. It knows no bounds.
As we get closer to the day I become more and more sad. Last night I lost it. Lucas dropped his bowl of spaghetti on the floor. Spaghetti of all things. It's comical today but last night I was livid. Looking back it wasn't a big deal but I screamed. He cried. It wasn't just on the floor, it was on the chair, the walls and covering the floor.
When I calmed down and he calmed down I sat down held him and cried. I said I'm very sorry for yelling at you. Mommy shouldn't have done that and he looked at me and said I'm very sorry for dropping my spaghetti.
Getting up each day is still hard. Answering the impossible questions from your children is still hard. My main goal is to try to create a positive holiday season for all of us, but remember you are human and we can't all be perfect parents at all times. We all make mistakes. This is not the first time I have yelled and won't be the last. What I try to learn is to breathe and compartmentalize. The boys cannot catch all my stress. I must deal with the grief separately from them and its a truly difficult battle.
I have begun to believe that stupid questions beget stupid answers. The "How are you question?" It's a ridiculous question to anyone dealing with any kind of loss. Do you really want an answer or are you simply asking to be nice. If that's the case, a polite nod will do, Don't speak.
Someone asked me yesterday what I was going to do on Christmas Day. I feel the same way about that question as I do about the Thanksgiving question. Really what kind of question is that? What are you seeking? Am I going to swallow a bottle of pills? Boycott the Holiday? Stay in bed and sleep all day? Get drunk? Some people do change their plans but for me I don't think changing the venue would change my feelings. Right now I do honestly feel a little crazy, a little manic. Which is probably the furthest from my levelheadedness that I could be. I feel frantic to get things done for the children and make sure Christmas is the best it can be. I feel tired. I feel excited as the boys wake up every morning and frantically search for "Mick" their elf on the shelf and check their advent calendar. The energy in this house is frenetic and contagious. We are all running on adrenaline. I feel sad. I feel the intense loss that I felt back in April. I am crying at night again. Crying in the car. Crying at work. I feel worried for the boys. Worried for myself and I'm worried for Daniel. I know Christmas Day will be sad. I'm not on a ledge. I'm not going to drink myself stupid or stay in bed and cry. We will open our new toys and we will cherish the three of us being together, all the while managing the hole in our hearts.
Before you ask questions such as "How are you? Are you feeling ok? Are you going to be alright?" Think of the most important person in your life and remove them. How would you feel?
I'm back in crazy panic mode. I'm not having time to think about anything. I just keep going going going. It's the first of December and we've taken a train ride, seen the polar express, met Santa in three different places, been to make gingerbread houses and been to a lights show. I really don't stop moving. The boys are wild with excitement. Lucas said to me the other day “Santa sure is everywhere.” I have loved every minute of it. It has given me a chance to just keep going and not stop, sit and think. To live through Lucas and Reed’s joy and not get bogged down by the sorrow I feel.
I find that I physically and emotionally can not stop moving. I cannot shut down. I must move until I lay down and am so exhausted that I fall into a usually fitful sleep for the night. This is what I must do. This is what works for me. If you prefer the opposite, do it. Do what feels good to you. I know the pain is unbearable. I know most people have moved on. Their pain is gone. Yours in not. Do whatever you need to do to get through the day. And ignore judgments. If you need to tell someone to go to hell because they are staring at you or telling you what you should be doing or feeling. Do it. And don't feel bad about it.
Meet the Author (me)
Driven by a need to help others. I have known from a young age that this is what I wanted to do. This is my very real, somewhat sarcastic, look into my newfound widowhood. I hope this site will help you as much as it helps me.