Open House

There is just so much to write about and not a moment to do so. This is the summer of “on the move” for the children and I. We are so busy and I am grateful for the busy lives we lead. For whenever we get a moment of downtime – the fighting begins between the kids and sadness creeps into my heart.

I have had a hard time sleeping this weekend – even on pills. There is so much swirling around in my head that I need to write it down and get it out.

I know I am dwelling on ridiculous stuff, but on Wednesday someone put a giant, I mean enormous billboard size For Sale sign on my house. I sound like a broken record, even to myself. But I am having a really hard time dealing with this. This weekend was the inevitable “open house.” I only know this because an old neighbor saw me and said, “Well there were plenty of people swarming around your house today.” I almost threw up on his shoes.

I am angry and the worst part is that I have no where for the anger to go. I am sad we lost the house; no I am devastated when I think about the house. I hate that it is being sold out from under me and I feel sick when I think about the house belonging to someone else – and really being gone for good.

I realize ultimately it is not so much the house I am so upset over. It is losing my husband that causes me to lose sleep. The house is just a small part of this year from hell I am living. I have just lost so much control over my life these past months and when I think about everything that is gone – it is devastating. I realize I am obsessing about this entire process. I can’t help it. Maybe when someone else has moved in then I will move on. For now though, I am just angry and sad and don’t know how else to feel about it.

My children on the other hand, barely glance at it whenever we walk by. Of course I stare deeply with a scowl and tears every single time. My husband’s friend said to me today, “Don’t you think it is about time you start cutting through the alley and stop torturing yourself?” I just looked at him and he said, “OK, never mind.” He is right though. I am totally torturing myself. Deep down I feel like I deserve to feel the pain of loss. My husband died partly because of the financial burden of the house and here I am walking by as I take my children swimming on a beautiful summer day. Part of me feels like I deserve to suffer and feel some of his pain.

My son has been counting down the days till his 7th birthday. All I can think about is his birthday last year. I had a small house party during the day while my husband was at work. Neither of us thought it was a big deal. We were going to try and do something special on his actual birthday – but the party he missed. I never imagined it would have been his last chance to attend his child’s party. I feel so sick about this – so guilt ridden. One of those moments I wish I could go back in time and change – but I can’t. I must suffer through this like I do everyday and try to deal somehow.

I also went to see my OBGYN this week – without getting into graphic details I was really upset about seeing him. My doctor has known me for over ten years. He delivered both of my children and I feel sometimes that he is part of my extended family. Two men helped deliver my babies and now one is dead – my doctor is all I have left.

He walked into the room with his arms wide open to hug me and I burst into tears. He asked about the children and how I am and then we talked medical. He asked me if I was sexually active. I gasped at him. Really? You are asking me this? Really? He just looked at me and said, “It’s my job!” I laughed and said, oh yeah. I guess better him than my mother.