When Will died, I remember the grief coming in waves. I’d be okay and then not all in the same minute. I know what to expect this time and maybe that was the purpose of his death and even in his life. There are so many similarities that I didn’t see at the time.1. He got sick and ended up in a big, busy hospital. So, I learned how to be the advocate, how to make friends with nurses, how to read a chart.2. I knew this time when to be in denial (it’s a powerful force…don’t let anyone tell you any different) and when to take action.3. When someone says, “if there’s ever anything I can do…” I knew what to say.
4. I’ve watched him die after praying for peace because I couldn’t pray for health and healing any longer.
But you know, it comes in waves like I knew it would. Tonight, I was prowling around the kitchen after the girls were asleep. I didn’t eat much supper because I was cleaning while the girls were contained with their bowls of chili (you feed a baby CHILI?!?). So I had a brown sugar pop tart and a glass of milk. That filled the stomach but I was still on the prowl. I heard him say, as if he were over my shoulder, “well, what are you hungry for?” Something…fruity I said. I stuck my face into Ella’s halloween pumpkin full of treats (And as a sidenote, have you ever just inhaled in the candy? Best. Smell. Ever. So good, Yankee Candle should carry the scent.) and found a pack of Swedish Fish. But they’re made in Canada. Hmmm… Fruity. Done.
But you see, this is how our nights went. The children tucked snugly in their beds. Okay, usually our bed for the little one. Okay, always our bed. But tucked in nonetheless. And we would prowl the kitchen for that last snack. Even in the hospital, he’d get his night meds and I go padding down the hall in my pj pants and socks and find a snack for us. Ice cream or a cookie or whatever. I even went to Cheesecake Factory at the B&N across from the hospital. By the time I got back he was asleep and didn’t eat his piece.
Like I said, it goes in waves. But I’ve learned alot. And keep learning. I have my girls and they have me. I’m trying not to be weird around them but I’m tired. This morning I opened all the blinds in the whole house. As it turns out, under the toy bomb debris, my house really is actually dirty. Really.
-swept the kitchen
-2 loads of laundry
-picked up toys
-vacuumed (while youngest screams and shakes because she hates the vacuum which ought to say how often I vacuum)
-picked up all the art supplies and cleaned Ella’s kitchen set out
-went to post office to drop off Dawn’s FOM
-went to Sam’s Club with 2 tired girls. Note to self: don’t do that again
-baths…tomorrow is Sunday School after all!
You get the idea. It’s all mommy all the time. I don’t know how people do this single parent thing. I mean, just to have someone else around for the company. I still fully expect him to walk in the door. Just like I expect his laundry in the hamper and his razor by the sink. Or his signature on a check. Or hearing his keys jingle on his fraternity dog tag.
Note to self: he’s not coming back. Ever.