Lucky Girl

I am a lucky girl. I really am. It may sound a bit strange to you, me saying this, especially after the last few posts of mine. But today I realize that I am really lucky.

I am surrounded by people who love me. My house phone and cell phone can’t go five minutes without ringing. Someone is always calling to remind me how much they care about me and ask what they can do. My e-mail is always full, my text inbox is out of control. Facebook is working on serious overtime and will probably crash due to my friends! I need a personal secretary to get back to you all.

My husband’s brother and his wife are amazing to me. My husband’s ex-wife is so wonderful and loving to me and my children, it is beautiful. My siblings, my mother and step-dad never stop calling and doing. My aunts and uncles are always just a phone call away. My grandmother wants only to fly me to Florida to get away. My children’s teachers have given me their “private” numbers and are devoted to making sure my children stay on track and are feeling very loved. My community has stepped up in ways that are unimaginable.

My friends. My friends all deserve to be sainted. They bring me meals every night and call the plumber for me. They send cleaning woman to dust and bought me a washing machine. They call me night and day and listen to me cry. They understand when I tell them to go away and are there moments later when I change my mind. They are grieving almost as much as I am. They are worried about me and I am worried about them. We are all walking a tight rope together and no one is letting anyone fall. If we did – there would be a net – that I am sure of.

It has taken some time for me to shake this feeling of humiliation. That was my first emotion for days and days. Saying your husband is dead is hard enough. Saying he took is own life is impossible. I felt like everyone was looking at me like it was my fault. That I should be walking around with a scarlet S on my shirt. I felt like everyone knew and was blaming me.

But I am over that now. It was all me and my guilt and my sadness. I don’t feel humiliated any more. I feel sorrow and pain but the normal kind.

It seems strange for me to be doing ordinary things when my world is anything but ordinary. Going to the local supermarket has been the most difficult. I never realized how much I shopped with you in mind. Every freaking isle was filled with stuff I would purchase for you. I was able to bypass the cookie and ice cream sections with only a minor panic attack. I avoided the people working there who I normally chat with – I just didn’t want to tell them yet. The deli lady is going to be so upset – she had a mad crush on you – or me, we were never sure – nevertheless, I didn’t want to ruin her day today.

I picked up your shirts at the cleaners this morning. I have been dreading this for 23 days. A part of me was hoping there was going to be a secret message in your pockets to me – of course there wasn’t. I forget sometime that I am living in reality and movies are fake and can give you false hope when you have none yourself. I said goodbye to the lady at the cleaners. I will never go back.

It is hard to go to sleep some nights. The bed I used to complain about being too small now suddenly feels massive and empty. But then some time in the middle of night, the pitter patter of little feet come find me. I used to complain about the children coming into our bed, and now I wait for it. Even though my son grinds his teeth and kicks me in the head and our precious daughter mutters Redrum in her sleep, I need them to fill this roomy bed of mine. I grip them both so tight and listen to their breathing and their presence calms me.

They remind me of you. They remind me to be strong for you. The remind me to be stronger than you. They are my whole world and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even though they still complain about my pancakes.