My dear sweet precious mom,
My 3rd Mother’s Day (Sundays) since you left and I don’t have to tell you it isn’t getting any better from here. Last night I took a friend up on his invitation to come out to the country and eat dinner. There were a thousand reasons I came up with not to go but in the end, I thought you might like it if I did. It was nice. We had giant filets grilled outside medium-well with potatoes and salad then ice cream and a little conversation. We watched some Tim Hawkins ( https://www.youtube.com/user/timhawkinscomedy/videos ) videos, the Christian comedian you would have liked he’s really funny. Got to see the chickens from the videos they sent to you that we laughed at and you thought were cute remember?
It was something like 10 pm when I made my exit and long after it got dark. All I could think about for the last couple of hours was that I hadn’t turned the lights on in your special room before I left and how dark the house would be by the time I got back. I felt guilty that those lights weren’t on for me to see when I pulled in. It seems to me like people more or less want to move forward from the pain and grief that envelops my every moment. I’m guessing there is a turning point where people get weary of hearing the anguish and emotions that are still welled up inside me aching to get out. Every conversation has some type of reminder of you and that you aren’t here anymore for me to talk to. Most people thankfully aren’t sad and in pain every waking minute like I am these days and so I’m left feeling this need to squash down my emotions to make others more comfortable. It’s almost like work and it’s as exhausting for me as it must be for others to witness. The alternative is to stay by myself and suffer alone and that isn’t healthy I’m hearing. I wish I could let people know how much I appreciate them for caring and wanting to get me out but it’s a lot of really hard work for me right now to push my emotions aside so that it doesn't feel like I'm constantly sucking all the air out of the room normal people are in.
Yesterday I found the car title and that will make it easier for me to get that car to Judy as you wanted. She knows how much that car meant to you and she says she will take really good care of it just like you would want. It will be a most difficult day watching your pride and joy roll out of this garage for the last time.
Linda and I went to the attorney's office yesterday and she signed over her executor power to me so he could just work with one of us to get everything done. Linda has been checking on me every day now like you would have wanted her to do and now that you aren’t here to do that, I’m strangely enough alright with it. They called last night and was going out to get a Christmas tree and something to eat and wanted to know if I would go. I’m just not ready for that- Yeah, Christmas is coming and this time for the first time without you here with me-
Will, an old TV friend called again Jose, Gene, my neighbor Pam and Kathy and her crew asked if I would go to church with them today and I gratefully declined. I wanted to go but don’t want to put a family with kids through my sorrows and emotions that seem uncontrollable in the Lord’s house whenever I go. I prefer to do that alone..
Charter Cable turned off service to the house today so there is no TV, no internet, nothing but this earth shattering silence. It seems to get them to stop phone service I inadvertently told them you had passed away and someone there decided they could no longer provide service even though they were getting paid all this time by me. So that saga should work itself out in a few days. Meanwhile, I have to get all the utilities moved over to my name or I guess they will turn all that off too. The tasks are many and you know how I am with people and things like this but I am trying to get it together.
When I walk past your bedroom I have to look in and stare as if you’ll just come out of the bathroom and walk through it again. I keep the light on in there just like always so you can see even though you would tell me you didn’t need it, remember? Your blankets are folded just right, the pillows stacked just the way you wanted them and the emptiness in that room fills my soul with excruciating pain. The baby spoon I gave you ice chips from remains in the glass in the fridge. The ice now just water that I stare at when I look in there. The blankets on the couch that I covered you in to keep you warm are still there, still folded as best I could, and the occasional grey hair I find on them I save and put to my face and long for you.
People tell me I’m doing better than they expected and that is the only time I really feel like I can laugh again. The jokes poked at the elderly on television some seem to think are funny now rile me up like nothing else. I’m super sensitive and there seems to be no end in sight for that. I keep your picture on the round table in the den where I can see it and your smile in that photo I took so long ago gives me air to breathe then takes that breath away. I’ll vacuum today and dust a little and then I’ll go out to the cemetery and we’ll talk some more. It’s almost 7 am and the light will be coming through the back door and put a cross on the wall like it does so I can know you are alright. Please don’t worry for me I’m doing enough of that on my own. I promised I would find a way and I’m working on that every day as you can probably see. Tell Gran and Toots I love them and let your father and Dub know I would have loved to have known them both.
May God wrap his arms around everyone who cares enough to check in on me and for those who cared for you, may they sleep well, rest easy, and know that God will bless them for their compassion. I can hear the birds already singing outside and another day is coming whether I’m ready for it or not. Happy Mother’s Day my sweet mom in heaven. I love you more than the spoken word could ever say. I will see you again. Love you mom..
No comments:
Post a Comment