29 Days Later

Yesterday was 4 weeks.  28 days.  The 28 most miserable days of my life.

Today marked 29 days.  29 days of asking why.  29 days of her not being here.  A friend - he's actually so much more to me than merely a friend - took me out to lunch last week.  Afterward, we came back to the house and talked for awhile.  He told me he knew Carmen was with us.  He said he could feel her in the room, in the house.  I couldn't, still can't.  I think I can't feel anything but the raw pain.  It feels like the sun has set in my chest, burning and painful, yet at the same time, it's like there's no sun at all.  Just cold, dark emptiness. 

I called the medical examiner's office again today.  Still no word.  Still no answer to why, at least the physical why.  The lady that answers is always so nice but always tells me the same thing.  The report is still pending.  Pending toxicology testing.  Pending, pending, pending...like my life.  Pending.  I don't know if knowing the physical cause of the end of my world will help me accept it any more than not knowing has allowed that to happen.  I like to think that it will.  Not that I'm willing to accept it as of yet.  Even though I don't have a choice, I still can't accept it as reality.

I still wonder around in a haze.  I'm prone to breaking down at any given moment.  I stopped at the post office to pay the yearly fee.  The box is under her name.  Has been for years.  She happened to be the one that opened that account.  When the lady asked the name it was under, I told her our last name.  Then there it was.  My wife's name popped up on the screen in front of me.  I lost my composure and began to cry.  The lady at the post office was very kind.  Told me to go ahead and cry.  That she had lost her son last year and still cried.

Yesterday I talked to a lady who's husband died almost 3 years ago.  She said she almost feels normal again.  Not the same normal as before.  A different normal.  Another close friend - again, really more than a friend - tells me almost daily that this is my "new normal".  I want my old normal back.  This new one sucks. 

Pain

GOD -

T
H
I
S

H
U
R
T
S

Why won't you explain it to me???

Jealousy

I seem to be full of jealousy lately.  I've never really been the jealous type.  Why would I be.  My life was perfect.  An amazing wife, an amazing son, everything we needed and then some.

I'm jealous of those around me who's life goes on as normal.
I'm jealous of those who still have their wife/husband to hold hands with as they walk together.
I'm jealous of those that can pick up the phone and call their wife/husband to just say hello.
I'm jealous of those who don't feel like their heart has been ripped out of their chest.
I'm jealous of those 15 year olds who still have their mom to talk to.
I'm jealous...

Relating

Stretched On Your Grave

I've always loved this song as it shows how deep love goes.  I just never thought I would relate to it the way I do now.

Sobs not Saabs

 Today was rough.  Not that the rest haven't been.  I ran into a friend that had no idea that anything had happened.  She asked how "we" were doing, not realizing I was in the car, our car, by myself.  Through my instant tears, I told her that Carmen had died.  This resulted in both of us breaking down in the drive thru at the local Sonic.  It also resulted in me not recovering from that breakdown for over an hour.  I sobbed in the Sonic drive thru.  I sobbed in the parking lot of the post office.  I sobbed inside the post office.  I sobbed all the way to our friends' house in spite of the fact that I hadn't planned on driving there.  I sobbed in their driveway.  I sobbed in their garage.  I sobbed on their couch.  Not sniffles, not crying.  All out, full on, racked with pain sobbing. 

I also had a chat with God.  It was a bit one sided.  I asked him why my life was so...well, I won't repeat it here...and everyone else's is going on as normal.  Why can't things be the way they were 19 days ago?  Why was the guy in the truck in front of me able to go about his day with no worries while I was crumbling into nothingness?  I sincerely hope that the guy in the truck has no worries, not that I've a clue who it was.  I wouldn't wish this on anyone, least of all the guy in the truck who had no idea I was (am?) jealous of him.

I want to wake up

My son sent a text to me while he was at school today.  Said he didn't feel good and wanted me to pick him up.  I was running an errand so it took me about 30 minutes to get there.  Several people came up to me to tell me how sorry they were for our loss.  The tears started. 

After we got back to the house, I lay on his bed beside him and talked.  He mostly listened and told me everything would be alright.  I cried and told him I didn't think it ever would.  He's 15.  He's not supposed to be the level headed one.  I told him I was sorry that he had to go through this.  My dad died when he was about 18 months so he doesn't remember him.  That hurts me everytime I think about it.  Now my baby has lost his mother.  That hurts me constantly. 

I've been reading other people's stories that have been in similar situations.  I started to read a site last night where people post their stories.  I got about 3 deep and all I wanted to do was scream.  It's not helping me to read about others that have gone through this.  It just makes me angry because I don't want to share their stories.  I don't want to be part of this club.  I want my wife back.  I want my life back.  This isn't what we had planned together.  Together is what we planned.  This is not my life.  This is a nightmare from which I can't awake.

14 days

14 days.  Fourteen days.  A fortnight.  A blip in time, yet an eternity.

It was fourteen days ago today that I last heard her voice.  Her voice that woke me with a phone call telling me she was having a panic attack and needed me to calm her down.  I did just that.  As we talked, her blood pressure went back to normal, we talked about our plans for that day - hers, mine, ours.  It was a bit odd to talk about ours because it was a bit odd for me to be coming home on a Tuesday.  She was feeling better as our conversation neared it's end.  It didn't end as normal.  It ended with me hearing her last breaths. 

I avoided everyone and everything I could today.  Valentine's Day.  How am I supposed to celebrate a day of love when my eternal love isn't here with me?  Instead, I wondered from room to room in the house.  Not doing or seeing, just existing.  I celebrated the victory of getting out of the bed by soaking in the tub.  Our tub.  We kept laughing and saying that it was shrinking as the years passed as we didn't fit quite as well as when we first installed it.  It feels huge now without her in there with me. 

Happy Valentine's Day

Better

Someone, actually several someones, told me this week that it's going to get better.  I don't believe them.  I want nothing more than to hold her again.  I want to run my fingers through her hair.  To watch her chest rise and fall as she sleeps next to me.  To hear her voice again.  To look into her eyes and see the happiness that she felt looking at our son.  God, are you listening?  I MISS HER!!!!!

Angry

I left the house today for a few hours.  Had lunch with a friend from church.  I was a bit worried that it would be awkward and uncomfortable.  I was happy that it didn't turn out that way.  It was a good visit, nice to get out. 
Afterward, I took our son - he's not just mine, he's OURS and always will be - to our chiropractor's office for a massage and adjustment.  I had a good chat with the doctor.  I told him I thought I was doing ok and that I had been mad at God.  It was then and there that I realized I'm still mad at Him.  I want to know why my 40 year old wife is gone, I want to know His plan, I want Him to explain how He thinks that I'm strong enough for this.  I'm mad and I want answers that I can't have. 

8 days

It's been eight days.  Eight days.  Eight days - and nights - of loss, pain, sorrow, fear, anger, terror, and even more.  At 4:45 CST on January 31st, my wife of 17 1/2 years returned home to Our Heavenly Father.  I had the fortune to be on the phone with her as she took her last breaths.  I had the misfortune to be on the phone with her because I was 1400+ miles away in New Jersey.  This blog will be my journey through what it's like to be a 41 year old widower with a teenage son.  I can't promise it will be an easy read as it hasn't been an easy eight days.