Friday, December 12, 2014

~ Do You Believe ....

.... in signs?
Signs from our loved ones who have died?
I want to believe.
Since Tom died I keep searching for signs from him.
I keep praying to sense his presence.
There are no signs.
I do not feel his presence.
I think there are coincidences.
This week I had a few "coincidences".
Coincidence #1
Got up.  Poured myself a cup of coffee.
Walked over to the window and looked out.
There was a moving van.
It was "Tom's Moving Company".
For a second I thought "is Tom moving in or is he telling me
that it's okay to move out?"
Coincidence #2
Ran some errands. 
Pulled up into a parking spot.
The car in the spot in front of me had the license plate
Tom called me "Jack".
Coincidence #3
On Thursday night I could not sleep.
I cried all night.   I thought about him all night.
I talked to him all night.
Why wasn't he with me?   Why couldn't I feel his presence?
As I crawled out of bed in the morning
I walked over to the bedroom window and looked out at the brook below
as I always do.
But today I noticed something.
Take a look.
Do you see it?
I saw it immediately.
Look closer.

Can you see the heart shaped rock?
The light snowfall overnight must have covered it to look that way.
A sign? 
A coincidence?
I don't know.  I want to believe.
It has been 5 months.
22 weeks.
154 days.
3,672 hours.
220,320 minutes.
13,219,200 seconds.
Of loneliness.
Of helplessness.
Of sorrow.
Of anger.
Of fear.
Of wanting to believe he is giving me signs.
Of wanting to feel his presence.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

~ It Is Now ...

4 months
123 days
17 weeks
2,952 hours
177,120 minutes
10,627,200 seconds
since Tom died.
I still visit your blogs.
 I just haven't had the energy to post lately.
I am struggling to get back control of my life.
I am still consumed with grief.
Some days are worse than the next.
I just never know when the grief will be mild
or when it will explode from within me.
I am a walking grief bomb.
I am a whirlwind of emotions.
Sometimes I regret having moved from our home of 30 years.
I'm still not feeling his presence here with me in the condo.
I hear that "time will heal" ....
I just don't know when that time will come.
For now I will grieve.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

~ It Has Been ....

... a little over a month.
33 days to be exact.
792 hours,
47,520 minutes,
2,851,200 seconds
of excruciating pain.
Of devastating loneliness.
Of feeling lost in a fog of disbelief.
I can go for hours at a time without crying.
That's if I keep myself so busy that I don't have time to think.
About anything.
And then .... wham .... out of nowhere something just knocks the wind right out of me.
And I cry uncontrollably.
I cry from so deep within that my body shakes with each tear.
Lately, these are some of the things that make me cry.
Places he sat on .... in .... by .... during his last weeks.
His walker sits by the bed ... waiting for him to get up and attempt to get around.
I see it there and it makes me cry.
He fought so hard to not get to this point ...
but he accepted it like a gentleman when he realized it was a necessity. 
And that makes me cry. 
His office chair ... waiting for him to start his work day.
I walk past this room and step back and look in.
They came and took his office computer away.....another piece of him gone.
Sometimes at night when I can't sleep
I get up and sit in this chair in the dark
and I cry.
His chair at the table.
Waiting for him to arrive for a feast.
The last few weeks ... especially days ...
he wasn't doing very much eating.
But he'd sit there and watch and wait for me to eat.
And he'd tell me how good it looked.
How good it smelled.
But he just wasn't hungry.
And that makes me cry.
The chair in the sunroom.
It's funny how we hadn't used that room much in the last few years.
But in the last few weeks of his life
we used this room!!!
We'd get up and he'd sit there and read the paper.
Drink his Orange/Pineapple Juice.
Take his multitude of pills.
We'd talk about the condo and what was being done to it.
We'd talk about colors and furniture and countertops and tile.
I'd watch him fall asleep on this chair in the middle of conversations.
In the middle of phone conversations.
In the middle of texting someone.
Sleep was absorbing him more and more.
And then he couldn't come downstairs anymore to sit in this room with me.
And that makes me cry.
When I thought that he would be coming with me to New Hampshire and the condo
we couldn't wait to leave this house and get up there.
Now that he is gone
I am finding it very difficult to wrap my head around leaving here.
I am so dang emotional about leaving here.
He's everywhere.
Sometimes I swear I can smell him.
He's here.
Will I be abandoning him when I leave?
Will he know to come with me?
And that makes me cry.
My Throw Back Thursday shot:
I love you.
I will love you until I die.
And if there is life after that,
I will love you then.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

~ I Am A ...

... Widow.
It sucks.
It hurts.  A lot.
Being a widow makes me sad.
It makes me lonely.
It makes me angry.
It makes me cry.   A lot.
I am scared.
I am grieving.
I am crying.
I am a widow.
And it sucks.
Everything seems muted.
There is very little color in my life right now.
No happiness.
Just sorrow.
No smiles.
Just tears.
And it sucks.
July 12, 2014.
A day I will never forget.
It is circled on the calendar.
It has been 25 days.
600 hours.
36,000 minutes.
And it sucks.
It sucks.  A lot.
Yet I cannot flip the calendar page to August.
It sits on my wall as July.
Occasionally I walk by and pound the date with my fist.
I scream at it.
I swear at it.
I hate it.
I hate it with all of my being.
Yet I cannot flip the calendar page to August.
I am a widow.
And it sucks.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

~Today ....

... at 5:20 PM
I lost my best friend.
My partner in crime.
The love of my life.
My heart.
My soul.
My existence.
I will never gaze into this sweet man's eyes again.
I will never see his contagious smile.
I will never hear his deep wonderful voice.
I will never hear him call me "Chick-a-dee" or "Jack" again.
His health had been declining so quickly the last couple of months.
We were hoping for a second boost of energy,
enough to get him to New Hampshire and in the condo.
He fought a hard fight all the way to the end.
I finally told him it was okay to "let go". 
And he did so in my arms as I stroked his face and his hair.
It's interesting because a few weeks before this
I had a specific song in my head every single night before we'd fall asleep.
I'd sing it to him in my head as I listened to him breathe
and fall asleep.
"I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you're far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Where every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure
I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
Cause I'd miss you baby and I don't wanna miss a thing
Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream would never do
I'd still miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing.
Lying close to you feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together
I just wanna stay with you in this moment forever.
I don't wanna close my eyes.
I don't wanna fall asleep
Cause I'd miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing
Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream would never do
I'd still miss you baby
and I don't want to miss a thing
I don't want to miss one smile
I don't want to miss one kiss
I just wanna be with you
right here
with you
just like this.

Tom, I don't know how I will manage through the rest of my life without you.
You will always be in my heart and on my mind.
Please visit me in my dreams.
I want to see your face every night.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

~ Dear ...

.... life.
You are pissing me off with everything that you are throwing at Tom.
Tom isn't doing very well.
He was doing "okay" for a while and now he's not.
He has started sleeping 95% of the time.
He doesn't want to eat.
When he is awake, one minute he is coherent and then he drifts off and then the
next minute he is confused and lost. 
I am so effin' scared.  And sad.  And angry.
I tell him over and over and over and over and over and over
that I love him infinitely.
He says he loves me, too.
I can't stop touching his strong hands.
I want to hold onto them forever.
These hands took care of me.  Soothed me. 
Wiped my tears.  Comforted me. 
I want to make sure that he feels my touch as often as possible.
I don't ever want to let go.

Friday, May 30, 2014

~ "The trouble is ...

... you think you have time."
~ Buddha
Just when things were looking up ....
plans were being made ....
we were dealt with a blow.
Tom's congestive heart failure has been diagnosed
as end-stage heart failure.
As Tom was in the ICU last week 
the doctor came in to "talk".
I was standing up against a wall as if to brace myself from what might be said.
The doctor said ...."wha wha wha wha wha.....could be 9 months or 6 months
or 3 months.   Your heart is weakening.  Wha wha wha wha wha. 
We've run out of options....wha wha wha."
I stood there .... holding up the wall ....looking at the doctor and then at Tom.
I was standing there yet I had an out of body experience.
I watched myself run around the room ...
screaming ... crying ... demanding that the doctor "shut-up".
I felt a huge .... HUGE .... lump in my throat that hurt so dang much I thought I would choke.
When the doctor left, Tom looked at me and calmly said
"You need to keep me home.  I don't want to die in a hospital."
That's where we're at.
Congestive heart failure is taking over.
Interesting  ... my word for 2014 is
I'm not ready for this one!
My living room has become a hospital room
complete with hospital bed and walker.
He has a PICC line which distributes Dobutemine directly to his system.
I change it every 24 hours.
I am a caregiver.
And I am scared. 
"I can be your hero, baby.
I can kiss away your pain.
I will stand by you forever.
You can take my breath away."