The Movies

I thought somehow my first post of the New Year would be more positive and uplifting. I am kidding myself if I think something as inconsequential as a change in the calendar is really going to alter anything in my life so quickly.

I woke up this morning and decided to take the children to the movies. After spending yesterday in the house, I thought we needed to get out and do something.I tried not to think about the Saturday that occurred ten weeks ago. I tried not to think about it – but all I did was think about it.

Ten weeks ago today was a rainy, yucky day. We ran out of the house so we wouldn’t miss the movie and said a quick goodbye to you. You were supposed to be going to work shortly after we left. Instead you wrote me a note, left the house and killed yourself.

I tried not to think about that day. How the line at the movie theatre was so long I thought for sure we would never get in on time and I almost left. How much I wish I had just come straight home. Maybe I would have found you in time to save you. I really try and not think about this a lot.

I unsuccessfully tried to get the children to go to a different theater, but they said no. So off we went today to the movies. I really didn’t think I would ever go to the movies again. But on a cold Saturday with nothing else to do and the winter break feeling like years, I thought maybe I can do this again. I tried to think of ways to make this experience different. I ended up doing everything almost the same.

I sat in the theatre with the children eating a large popcorn all by myself out of stress and tried to focus on everything but what happened ten weeks ago. Of course the first preview was of the movie we saw that fateful day coming out on DVD and I almost threw up all the popcorn. The next image on the screen was a car commercial for your car – the one you killed yourself in. Now I am really dry heaving and wondering why you are torturing me. I have never ever seen a car commercial in the moves before and a part of me is thinking maybe this is your way of saying hello to me.

The movie begins finally but I am already crying. The children don’t notice as I am covering my sobs with fistfuls of popcorn and trying to calm myself down. I am trying to just get through this first movie experience without having a nervous breakdown and so far I blowing it.

I don’t remember the movie at all. I remember the children giggling and repeating funny lines and a lot of annoying squeaking from the chipmunks. That is it. Mostly I just sat there reliving the day you died over and over again and thought about how different life is for us all now.

We came home and I tried to get the children to go play. I needed a moment to myself to collect my thoughts. They never left my side all day. They just wanted to fight and scream and play and do it all on top of me. I let them help me make dinner instead of trying to get them to go away.

I feel like every Saturday at 4 pm my life unravels before me and I am left gasping for breath. It doesn’t seem to matter how many Saturdays go by and what I do differently on each and every one – the same thing happens every time.

I think about finding your note and then your body and I think about how much I lost on that day and I just can’t do anything but sob.

I miss you more than I did yesterday and will probably miss you even more tomorrow. I stayed up and watched the New Year come in. I can’t believe it is a New Year and you aren’t here. I just still can’t believe it. You were always so funny and so alive that it is very difficult and painful to realize that you are dead.

At bedtime tonight I asked your four year if she missed her daddy. She said, “No”. I asked her why not. She said, “Daddy is still here – he is just at work.” I didn’t say anything because the truth is sometimes I still believe this too.

Maybe next Saturday will be better. Maybe we will go bowling.