Apparently all my talking about vomit gave me an eyin harah (evil eye for those not of the tribe). Both my children were up all night puking. I didn’t cry and get upset my husband wasn’t here to help. Mostly there just wasn’t any time to dwell on his absence. But somehow over the last few months something in me has changed. I no longer feel resentment over his absence. I have come to terms with being alone. I don’t look for help where there is none – I am just used to it. Is this how my life is going to be? Getting used to him being dead. I hate this. I still miss him and cry almost everyday, but some how my brain has moved along into survival mode. I am trying to survive this ordeal all by myself.
So now I am trying pack in a house that smells like puke and keep the children from vomiting into open boxes. As well, all they want to do is take things out that I have already packed – this is just so much fun.
I told the children on Saturday that we are moving. I didn’t cry. It took a lot for me not to cry. Instead I told them that we are all going on an exciting new adventure. We are going to pack up all our things and move to a different place. I told them about the big basement with a piano that comes with the house. How much closer we will be to our friends and about the great new backyard that we can go explore. They were fine. Even a little excited. They didn’t ask me why – at least not right away.
About three hours later my six year old is in the bathroom peeing. He turns to look at me in the hallway and proceeds to pee all over the bathroom as he asks, why do we have to move? I sigh and tell him to finish in the bathroom and then we would talk. First I said the house was too big for us and he got a little upset. So then I said that mommy is working really hard, but we have to find a place that is not so expensive. My daughter chimed in that the house cost $50 so we have to move. I said yes. The next day my son asked me again why we are moving. He doesn’t seem to recall any of the answers I give him the day before. I try and remember which answer upset him the least. This time I say, well the new house has fewer rooms for mommy to have to clean. He smiles and agrees it would be better for us. I am sure he will ask again. I am running out of answers.
I don’t think the full reality of the move has sunk in for them. I try and talk about it a little everyday. I encourage them to tell their friends and teachers about our exciting news. My daughter keeps asking when. I tell her around my birthday. She wants to take pictures of all the rooms. I tell her that is a fantastic idea. I am relieved that the news has gone over so well. I worry about what is yet to upset them. Scary new noises, new shadows and just change. They are both like me and we all live for our consistency. I am trying to put on a happy face for them and not cry every time I pack a box or throw something of daddy’s away.
But all I really want to do is cry and scream and sob and cry some more. My fake smile is not helping me embrace this situation. Although I am packing, kind of, I am in serious denial that we are going to leave soon. There is so much to be done and I just do not want to deal with any of it. I have to call movers, I have to buy more boxes – but all of this is real and I don’t want it to be real. I want it all to go away.
I am living an impossible life these days. I miss my husband so very much and just wish he was here. That is all I want and the one thing I can never have. It feels awful. I feel sick to my stomach and am not sure if it’s the virus or just my usual nausea taking over.
I guess if the next blog has a vomit or puke title you will all know the outcome.
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