My Name is Kris and I Blah-g

I am having one of those days this week… LOL. Why is that? I just can be going along minding my own business and I just start to THINK. And believe me, I don’t mind thinking about Mike – at ALL. But I want to think about the HAPPY stuff – and there is PLENTY of that. I don’t want to spend my nights dreaming about him if it means that I have to wake up in the morning feeling like I felt a little over 2 years ago when things seemed helpless and I didn’t know what to do. These seeds of doubt keep getting planted and I feel like I am constantly weeding out my brain. SO annoying.So, what do I do? I have been taking solace in my work outs believe it or not. It’s become a sanctuary of sorts for me to zone out. When I go, I use the stationary bikes that sit in front of a big window. The window faces east towards the mountain. The gym is literally located a couple blocks west of the cemetery that Mike rests in. So as I peddle away, I am staring up at that mountain he lays at the foot of. Directly outside the window is a stop sign. It’s become a symbol of those seeds of doubt. Sometimes it’s pretty hard to get motivated to go each morning or if I get started on the bike, that 45 minutes I am on it seem SO long. That stop sign just glares back at me. But behind it stands that mountain that towers over Mike’s grave. It’s these weird thoughts that I battle on a daily basis! It’s frustrating and exhausting!Amidst all of this, I listen to my iPod. It’s no secret that I have been on this Danny Gokey kick for a while (gee, wonder why?). But get past that for a moment and understand that as I listen to the songs on his album, I understand completely WHY the songs are on there and why he calls this first album of his an anthem for his life right now. It’s become mine as well.So, as I stare down that stop sign each morning, this is the song I listen to. Whatever it takes to keep pushing forward, ya know?I Still Believe [audio:istillbelieve.mp3]I’ve been looking for a lightAt the end of this tunnelI’ve been searching for a signTo lead me homeToo many endless nightsOf sorrowBut on the other side of thisI know that my heart will liveI never saw a man that walked on the waterI never met a man that walked on the waterBut I still believeI don’t really know what tomorrow will bringBut I’m open to all possibilities’Cause I still believeAnd the more I live my lifeThe lesser I questionAll the things I just can’t seeRight in front of my eyesSo I take that leap of faithAnd learn a few lessonsTime showed me thatWhat you give is what you getI never saw a man that walked on the waterI never met a man that walked on the waterBut I still believeI don’t know the answer to my prayerBut I keep kneeling down like somebody is there’Cause I still believe(Now, listen)Well, I guess I could give up’Cause there are days I wanna run awayFrom everythingBut what good would that do for me’Cause I, I, I still believeI never saw a man that walked on the waterI never met a man that walked on the waterBut I still believeI never saw a man that walked on the waterI never met a man that walked on the waterBut I still believeI don’t really know what tomorrow will bringBut I’m open to all possibilities’Cause I still believeI never saw a man, never saw a man, never saw a man,Who walked on the waterI never saw a man, never saw a man, never saw a man,But I, but I, but I believeBut I, but I, but I believeBut I, but I, but I believe

Still hard to believe.

Still can’t sing that hymn in church.

Still see you in her eyes.

Still find it easier to live in denial.

Still feel rushes of sadness overwhelm me.

Still think of you every day.

Still won’t eat at that place I got lunch the day you left.

Still remember how cold it felt to kiss you goodbye.

Still get mad at myself for feeling this way.

Still missing you.

still sucks.

I know that Michaela misses her Daddy. She doesn’t really express much emotion about it and hasn’t really at all in the time that he’s been gone. I think we’ve only had two meltdowns. The first was when her hamster Henry died which was not too long after Daddy. Too much loss? I am not sure. I think part of it was because I wouldn’t get her a new hamster (sorry but as cute as Henry was, he was kinda gross and I got stuck cleaning his cage – not gonna go there again). The 2nd was on our trip to Florida earlier this year. Our last family vacation with Mike was to Disney World in September 2007. Believe it or not, there was a lot of foreshadowing prior to that trip and in hindsight I know I was being prepared. I felt strongly then that it would be our last vacation together. It pains me to admit that now. But the inclinations that I was having then were too strong for me to deny now. I just knew. We returned to Disney World this past March. And it was a big trip. I had traveled alone with Michaela before but they were small 1-2 day trips so it was pretty easy. But this was a full week in Florida and by about 4 days into it we were both feeling the strain and we fell apart in each other’s arms crying over how we missed Dad. I know I instigated it. I always do when it comes to him because like her father, Michaela tries to avoid anything sad. She’d just rather not go there. In fact the day of his funeral she put her foot down and told me that we were allowed to cry at the funeral but once it was over, NO MORE. She wanted to spend what time she had left with his family celebrating her Dad and having a party. She was and IS a very insightful child. We had the party per her request and it was just what everyone needed. Still….she didn’t cry at the funeral. She faced it with bravery and was stoic much like her Dad. I am so opposite…I just have to let it out. Sometimes I wish she would just because I know that for so long Mike bottled things up and it wasn’t good. And I’ll leave it at that…So, she doesn’t cry for her Dad. But there are times when she mentions him out of the blue – often in fact. She freely requests to visit him and she loves to talk about the funny things he used to do. It’s healthy for her and me to talk about it. Her Dad was a great guy and he loved her very much. I don’t ever want her to forget that. But time is flying by. It’s only been about 22 months yet Michaela is 7 now and so much “older” than she lets on. I think back to that little girl in the blue dress that touched her Daddy for the last time at the funeral and I can’t believe she’s the same little girl. She keeps much to herself although I try to get it out of her. He was the same way and it drove me nuts. I usually found out how he felt after the fact – usually in something he’d write on his Myspace page or in a card…today I found a little note that Michaela had written to her Dad on his Facebook Page which I still keep active. It said simply, “I love Daddy.”*sigh* How can you NOT get choked up when you see something like that?! I miss him too, Michaela. More and more every day…

I don’t post a whole lot about this these days. Usually I wait til those waves of grief are overpowering which is what it was like early on in this new journey of mine. *Sigh*… I say new… It’s been 20.5 months. I supposed I should be used this feeling but there is always something that brings things back…stark reminders of what was and will never be. Today some good friends lost their baby. They were only a couple weeks away from delivery. I saw her at church on Sunday and all seemed well. She looked ripe-ready to pop at any moment. They have all girls – 5, I think and this was to be their first boy – the long awaited son and they were excited, I could tell. And this morning all of that changed. I don’t know the details other than he never had a chance to be born. I am guessing that she was at a doctor’s appointment which is routine towards the end of a pregnancy and something went wrong. I really don’t know but it doesn’t matter how he died. The main thing is that he never had a chance to live. And that to me is a difficult pill to swallow – much like the death of Mike who although an adult with issues, he was recognizing what they were at the end and seemed committed to fixing them. He was taken before he could even give it a try. So today is marred in sadness. Because I grieve again for another loss – one that was unexpected and senseless …just like Mike’s.When I get reflective like this I usually head over to the widow bulletin board to commiserate with all the other sufferers out there and today I found a letter. The letter is something the writer said was something that we widows could give to a DGI. DGI stands for “Don’t Get It”…it’s an acronym given by widows to people misinterpret their feelings and say inappropriate and insensitive things. It’s the first time that I have found in words exactly how it feels to be grieving. Now, all grief is different. Losing a child is very different than losing a spouse. But BOTH hurt terribly. I would not venture to assume that I know what kind of pain my friends are going through. I can’t image losing a child. But I know what it feels like to lose my life’s partner and this describes it to a “t”. So, in case you were wondering.. here it is…

HOW YOU CAN HELP MEPlease talk about my loved one, even though he is gone. It is morecomforting to cry than to pretend that he never existed. I need to talkabout him, and I need to do it over and over.Be patient with my agitation. Nothing feels secure in my world. Getcomfortable with my crying. Sadness hits me in waves, and I never knowwhen my tears may flow. Just sit with me in silence and hold my hand.Don’t abandon me with the excuse that you don’t want to upset me. Youcan’t catch my grief. My world is painful, and when you are too afraidto call me or visit or say anything, you isolate me at a time when Imost need to be cared about. If you don’t know what to say, just comeover, give me a hug or touch my arm, and gently say, “I’m sorry.” Youcan even say, “I just don’t know what to say, but I care, and want youto know that.”Just because I look good does not mean that I feel good. Ask me how Ifeel only if you really have time to find out.I am not strong. I’m just numb. When you tell me I am strong, I feelthat you don’t see me.I will not recover. This is not a cold or the flu. I’m not sick. I’mgrieving and that’s different. My grieving may only begin 6 months aftermy loved one’s death. Don’t think that I will be over it in a year. ForI am not only grieving his death, but also the person I was when I waswith him, the life that we shared, the plans we had for watching ourchildren and grandchildren grow, the places we will never get to go together, and the hopes and dreams that will never come true. My whole world has crumbled and I will never be the same.I will not always be grieving as intensely, but I will never forget myloved one and rather than recover, I want to incorporate his life andlove into the rest of my life. He is a part of me and always will be,and sometimes I will remember him with joy and other times with a tear.Both are okay.I don’t have to accept the death. Yes, I have to understand that it hashappened and it is real, but there are some things in life that are justnot acceptable.When you tell me what I should be doing, then I feel even more lost andalone. I feel badly enough that my loved one is dead, so please don’tmake it worse by telling me I’m not doing this right.Please don’t tell me I can find someone else or that I need to startdating again. I’m not ready. And maybe I don’t want to. And besides,what makes you think people are replaceable? They aren’t. Whoever comesafter will always be someone different.I don’t even understand what you mean when you say, “You’ve got to geton with your life.” My life is going on, I’ve been forced to take onmany new responsibilities and roles. It may not look the way you thinkit should. This will take time and I will never be my old self again. Soplease, just love me as I am today, and know that with your love andsupport, the joy will slowly return to my life. But I will never forgetand there will always be times that I cry.I need to know that you care about me. I need to feel your touch, yourhugs. I need you just to be with me, and I need to be with you. I needto know you believe in me and in my ability to get through my grief inmy own way, and in my own time.Please don’t say, “Call me if you need anything.” I’ll never call youbecause I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you coulddo for me takes more energy than I have. So, in advance, let me give yousome ideas:(a) Bring food or a movie over to watch together.(b) Send me a card on special holidays, his birthday, and theanniversary of his death, and be sure to mention his name. You can’tmake me cry. The tears are here and I will love you for giving me theopportunity to shed them because someone cared enough about me to reachout on this difficult day.(c) Ask me more than once to join you at a movie or lunch or dinner. Imay so no at first or even for a while, but please don’t give up on mebecause somewhere down the line, I may be ready, and if you’ve given upthen I really will be alone.(d) Understand how difficult it is for me to be surrounded by couples,to walk into events alone, to go home alone, to feel out of place in the same situations where I used to feel so comfortable.Please don’t judge me now – or think that I’m behaving strangely.Remember I’m grieving. I may even be in shock. I am afraid. I may feeldeep rage. I may even feel guilty. But above all, I hurt. I’mexperiencing a pain unlike any I’ve ever felt before and one that can’tbe imagined by anyone who has not walked in my shoes.Don’t worry if you think I’m getting better and then suddenly I seem toslip backward. Grief makes me behave this way at times. And please don’ttell me you know how I feel, or that it’s time for me to get on with mylife. What I need now is time to grieve.Most of all thank you for being my friend. Thank you for your patience.Thank you for caring. Thank you for helping, for understanding. Thankyou for praying for me.And remember in the days or years ahead, after your loss – when you needme as I have needed you – I will understand. And then I will come and bewith you.

And for the record… I’m doing better now. Really, I am. But there are still times when I feel like I am losing my mind. This too shall pass… I just don’t know when. So just bare with me…k?