Mother's Day

I have not cried all weekend. Yesterday was seven months you are dead and today is Mother’s Day. One would think I would have only been crying this weekend. But I haven’t. I don’t know why I am not sobbing uncontrollably, as I truly have plenty of reasons. The tears are just not here.

Last night, instead of sitting home dwelling on the length of time you have been dead, I went to a party. Did I feel terribly guilty? Very much so. But I got a baby sitter for my children, put on a pretty dress and went anyway. Did I have fun? I am not sure. I was with all of my friends and their husbands. I enjoyed my time out of my normal routine, I enjoyed being with my friends. Maybe I did have fun and just didn’t know it.

I tried not to think about how much I wish you were with me. I tried not to think about how much food you would have eaten last night. I tried not to think about bow tie jokes whenever I looked at the man wearing one. But I couldn’t help it. You were in my thoughts all night long. It kept me from feeling too sad. I was on a date with your ghost last night – it helped keep me sane.

Today the children woke at their usual too early for any sane person and I just let it go. I didn’t feel bad in anyway that I still made them pancakes and cleaned up the mess. That I still bathed them and fed them and took care of them all day long. I still did everything I do for my children every single day. I didn’t dwell on the fact that I didn’t get a break today on Mother’s Day. Instead I was thankful for each and every task I did for them. I was grateful that I am their mother and get the opportunity to care for them.

There is no point anymore waiting for you to come home. I am beyond this fantasy. Reality is here and I just will embrace my life. My wonderful children promised to be good all day – and even when they weren’t I didn’t care. They made me presents in school and it was OK daddy wasn’t here to have them make me a card. We visited our family and enjoyed their company and I tried to appreciate all that I have today – not dwell on sorrow – what is the point.

The children and I talked about next Sunday a little bit. I said we were going to the cemetery to see your name and put rocks at your grave. My daughter asked, We are going to see daddy? I clarified as much as I could. No we will not see daddy he is dead. We will see a big rock with his name on it – that is it. I reminded them that they don’t have to come. I told them to think about it all week and let me know next Sunday. They said they want to come. I nodded my head.

This week I go back to therapy. I have two months of crap stored in my brain to discuss. I probably won’t say a word. I only want this week to drag on for months as I dread next weekend with a passion I cannot describe. I want this week to go by in a hurry so I can just get this whole thing over with already.

Seven months of grieving and I still look up at the sky for answers. Seven months of grieving and I still ponder your decision and what I could have done differently. I still wish I could ask you for guidance even though you clearly had no answers yourself.

Despite my lack of tears today, I did miss your card this morning and your corny rhymes. I missed you making a mess in the kitchen with the children and hearing your voice today. But I missed you yesterday and I will miss you tomorrow.