Eight Months

Nothing amazing has happened this week. Nothing terrible, nothing wonderful. Just life. Yet everyday this week I thought about Saturday. How tomorrow marks eight months that you are dead and gone. It seems impossible once again that I have spent this much time apart from you.

This has been a tough week, though there have been worse. It is just difficult navigating through the week with two children who lead busy lives. My life is no more difficult than most people I know. Many of my friends have husbands who work odd hours or late nights – so I am not alone in my mom does it all life.

But then I will get home after a very busy day, and get dinner, homework and the bathing done. I will tuck the kids into bed and then walk out of their room and sigh. It is just me – all alone. Sometimes friends call me at night to just talk. It used to be to make sure I wasn’t going insane – now the routine is to probably keep in touch with my daily goings on and to keep me from feeling not so alone. Some nights no one calls. Then I will sit outside and stare into the night sky wondering where you are.

This week I missed you but during random times. I missed you when I couldn’t get the window to close. I missed you when I needed help with the kids. I missed you when our son wrote me a letter saying I am the meanest mom in the entire world and I didn’t know what to do. I miss you the most when it comes to dealing with the children.

There are times when raising the two of them seems like an impossible task. That I am doing a truly horrible job and only yell and scream at them. I miss you being here to intervene for all of us. Even if you always got to be the good guy – I miss your presence and your ability to calm me down and talk some sense into me. I miss that you aren’t here at all.

I wonder sometimes if you are truly watching me from heaven and if you are shaking your head at some of the stuff going on. I wonder if you feel bad for me or think I deserve all this insanity.

I am sorry that I said I hate you last weekend. I don’t hate you at all. In fact, I miss you terribly and still love you very much – despite the awful terrible thing you have done to my life.

I yelled at a woman the other day in Costco. I was changing the address and asked her to take your name off the account. Well she said, that name is the primary account holder. I looked at her and said, well he is dead! I totally shocked her and she looked down and mumbled sorry and took your name off right away. I wondered later if I sounded callous. If my just announcing that you are dead without tears sounded terrible to a stranger.

After eight months it still just feels like something I say – not something I feel or believe. Maybe I find it easy to say you are dead because it still feels like something that just did not happen to me.

But it did. Tomorrow will be another busy crazy filled with lots of drama and stuff day. It will be eight months that you are dead and that will be my day.