Two Year Sadiversary: A Note to Ed

I awoke this morning and the quiet and stillness in the house reminded me so much of those first days two years ago.  I feel the emptiness much more today.  I feel restless unsure of what to do with myself.  I want to pause and take the time to remember and honor you and feel my feelings.  At the same time, I have created a mental list in my head of all the things I could and should do with this day off.

Yes, I took the day off from work because I cannot imagine going to work, getting lost in the hustle and bustle of the day and fretting over unimportant things and not taking the time to stop and remember and honor you.  And I also know that others fretting over some deadline or pressuring me because they need some piece of critical information could set me off.  Because they would not know how unimportant these things really are.  That the important thing is the loved ones in your life.  But they would not know that today in particular my heart would be aching a bit more than usual and the tears would be so near the edge of my eyes ready to burst at the wrong word or comment.  So best not to torture those with some unexpected, crazy widow reaction, and stay home.

And being home, in our home, what we built together, wraps me in comfort and love.  The life we built together that I took for granted most days, I now cherish every memory.

I am still not quite sure how I will spend my day.  I know I will bring flowers to your grave and sit with you a while.  I don't necessarily feel closer to you there, but the grave is your final resting place and I feel a sense of obligation to care for it and watch over it and you.

Dan called last night and we chatted for quite a bit about the day.  Just everyday conversation and we don't talk often so it was a nice treat.  After we hung up and I went to sit down in your recliner, it was then that it hit me how we were spending our time together two years ago.  For although April 22nd is the day you passed, you died around 1:30 AM.  So it was the day before that was the last day Dan and I spent with you.  And it was the evening of April 21st that Dan and I said our last good-nights to you and came home.  We knew the end was near and we struggled in deciding whether to leave the hospital that night.

And it dawned on me that the day of April 22nd, two years ago, was about making phone calls and arrangements.  We were busy once again with "to do" lists and needing to get things done.  But it was the night before, the evening of April 21st, that were our last moments together.  I called Dan back last night and we shared memories of those last days and that last evening.  We shared what we remembered and we talked like we did that same evening two years ago.  And last night, Dan was there to support me, to allow me to cry and be sad, just like you asked him to do two years ago.

You always wondered if he ever really listened to you when you tried to teach him or coach him.  You know, that "in one ear, out the other".  Well, I can't speak to all those years throughout his childhood, but I can tell you he did listen and remember what you had to say those last days of your life.  He has been there to support me and be my rock and I know I am blessed to have him.  He is your legacy and I am forever grateful that you live on in him.

I love you Ed and miss you with all my heart every day but I do pause and remember you in particular on this sadiversary.

Another April 19th

Today is a day of mixed emotions.  I awoke to the sun shining and a clear blue sky.  Another beautiful day. 

Yesterday I attended the baptism of a friend's new granddaughter.  And another friend was there with her grand kids.  It was a "nice" day and a beautiful celebration.  But there were moments when my heart ached as I looked at their happy families.  My friends have their husbands and now together they are celebrating being grandparents.  And it hurts that Ed and I will never share this.  That Ed will never know this joy and I will never be able to share it with him.  Do they know how lucky they are? But I kept my hurt and heartache buried, because that's what you do.  You don't want to ruin their

special day.  And it was a nice day and the baby was beautiful and everyone had a good time.  So I can enjoy myself and smile on the outside while deep down my heart is aching and filled with sadness.

Today is April 19th...I hate April 19th.  First, it's my brother Michael's birthday.  He would have been 54 this year but he will be forever 51, passing just shy of his 52nd birthday.  I am now older than my big brother.  It's not supposed to be this way.  And it makes me sad because I also know this day, in particular, is hard for my mother.  For only those who have lost someone so close to them, who you lived with every day, can understand.  A day does not go by that you don't remember and miss them.  But on these milestone days, the hurt and ache is just that much more.  So I wish I could ease my mother's pain today as well but I know I can't.  What I can do instead is remember and honor my brother and speak his name.

It was also two years ago, on April 19th, when I officially signed Ed onto hospice.  We did it together, but I signed the paperwork.  The day we raised the white surrender flag.  On that same day, Dan was held up in his apartment while the area where he lived was in lock down as they hunted down the Boston Marathon bombing suspect.  Dan would be delayed in coming home that weekend.  And I remember praying that Ed would not pass on Mike's birthday...it was already a painful day.  Little did I know that this just prolonged the grieving--each milestone just repeats the pain.  Maybe it would have been better to be on the same day, like pulling the band-aid off, just get all your grieving over in one day.

But Ed had to wait for Dan to come home one more time.  And he did.  Dan came home on the 20th and less than two days later Ed passed.  Over the past two years I've also learned that the grieving doesn't go away.  You have these milestones such as Michael's birthday, when you do need to stop and honor the person.  On all the other days of the year, you instead say a little prayer as you start your day and remember them in small ways as you go about your day.  Because you never forget and the grief never goes away.  You just learn how to live with it...

Happy Birthday Mike!

Treadmill of Life

That's what it feels like.  Day in and day out.  Same thing every day.  Work, home, responsibilities.  The treadmill doesn't seem to stop.  On one hand I should be thankful. It keeps going.  On the other, I would like to try to break up the monotony.  But as hard as I try, I can't.   I even made plans last week to have a "fun" day.  To take an entire day and go away with friends and have fun and that did not come to fruition.  So even when I try, I can't get off this stupid treadmill.

Some days I wonder if this is now my life.  Nothing to look forward to.  Nothing planned.  But somehow my calendar is full, but more with responsibilities.  Oh how I just want to get away.  Go somewhere where I can relax and laugh and not pay attention to everything I need to be doing or should be doing.

But as much as I say that, I also know I am a little obsessed with getting things done that are on my list.  Part of me is annoyed because "my list" lately consists only of the routine, every day things that must get done--laundry, housecleaning, paying bills, etc.  I want to start making progress on some larger projects around the house, but there never seems to be enough time to do that.  I just need more time in my day.  There are times when I wish I didn't work so much (but I can't afford to quit my job) and there are times when I wish I could just take a couple months off to try to get ahead (but again not realistic).  I want to spend more time with my friends.  I want to do more fun things.  Just how do I make that happen?  I can't seem to get off this treadmill which has become my life.

I realize part of this is my own fault because I would consider myself a responsible person.  I put first the things I "should" do and that is not necessarily always what I might "want" to do.  And I know that this is a good quality because I want to be considered reliable and dependable and to be there for others.  As an adult, we have responsibilities and sometimes we need to just suck it up and deal.  And we never know if tomorrow will come and so being there for others who are counting on you is important and I guess as much as I may tire, I would never change that.

I just wish I had more time.  But the treadmill just keeps going, and I keep plodding along.  I'm just not making any forward progress...