Weekend

This has been one of those weekends I won’t forget for a long time.

We belong to an amazing private park, which has been closed for months on end for renovations. Finally this past Saturday, it re-opened. This park is the entire reason my husband and I moved to the neighborhood. My children have grown up in this park and there were days I spent more time there than at home. This park has its own personality and at times is like a member of my family.

Walking into the park on Saturday was a mixture of emotions. The great sigh of relief I felt to be “home” again and the agonizing truth that I will never walk through these gates with my husband again.

I felt odd at times – probably my own insecurity, that people who have not seen me all winter were watching my every move. Waiting to see how I am or how I will react to whatever. Mostly there was love – a lot of love coming to me. I was fine until someone would walk over to me and ask me how I am doing. Then I would bite my lip so hard to keep the tears from coming. I would flash my fake smile and tell them I am fine. I think some people were surprised when I say I am fine – what do you really expect me to say?

Those ended up being the easy encounters. The people who don’t ask me how I am doing, because they too have experienced loss; they just look at me and say – it sucks doesn’t it. Those were the times words failed me and the tears just ran silently down my face. A few times people just hugged me this weekend and said your name out loud and how much they missed you. No lip biting or teeth gritting could keep my tears away.

I spent a lot of time missing you this weekend – in our perfect sunny park. I can’t believe you will never sit on a bench with me and watch our children make mud pies or play baseball. Every bench felt empty without you, even though it was filled with all our friends.

Then we get to tonight – probably one of the worst nights in our family history. Personally I thought I was good this weekend – there was not a lot of screaming and yelling and crying. I was trying to stay relaxed and low key. But at some point tonight my six year old got very angry with me. He wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, just that he was angry with me. I didn’t push him. He is allowed to be angry with me. But then at bed time he told me when he is a teenager he is moving to Australia to get away from me. He might as well just take a knife and slice my heart into pieces now. I tried to get him to tell me why he was leaving. He finally said I was a terrible mommy and it is all my fault daddy is dead.

I didn’t say anything for a very long time. I just didn’t know what to say. I put him into bed and tucked him in without getting worked up. His sister was fake sleeping in the bottom bunk and he was huffing and puffing angrily on the top bunk. I prayed with him and then asked him for a hug and kiss. He refused. That is when I started to cry. Not because he told me he was moving to Australia or that he blamed me for his dead daddy – but because he denied me a good night kiss. I started crying and then the four year old started crying and then finally the six year old joined us in our tears.

I took his head into my hands so he had to look me in the eye and said to him, “I am going to tell you something grown up now and I want you to really listen.” I said to him, “daddy dying is hard on me, it is hard on your sister and it is hard on you. But no matter what, we are a family and we need to stick together. We can get angry at one another, we can fight and then we make up – but we are a family – and we stay together!”

By this time I am choking on my words and the tears are pouring down my face. My son is crying hysterically and grabs me into his arms and says he is sorry he was mad and he is not mad anymore. His is crying and crying.

My daughter is hysterically crying so I climb down to her bed and she says to me – I want to listen to you mommy, but I just can’t take it anymore – I miss my daddy!

This scene went on for a few minutes; me climbing back and forth between the two beds as everyone is crying and kissing and hugging me.

I got everyone out of bed and into the bathroom. We blew our noses and washed our faces and calmed down. My son asked me if crying solves problems – I said sometimes crying just makes you feel better and your problems don’t seem so bad.

I got everyone back into bed again and this time they went to sleep without tears without drama as if nothing insane just happened.

So now I sit here thinking about what I said and what they said and feel terrible. Terrible that I made them cry, terrible that they were upset to begin with. Maybe I said the wrong things to them tonight. Deep down I believe in being honest with them and getting them to be honest with me. I want them to know how important our family is and how normal it is to be upset with each other.

I am no longer second guessing myself anymore. I am no longer listening to anyone else’s advice. If I screw up and say the wrong thing – so be it. There are three people in this world I have to please these days – my children and myself. Everyone else must take a number.

I am exhausted and it is Sunday – six more sleeps till I can be back in the park.