Thursday, January 28, 2016

Vanished Into the Dark

Tomorrow will be the 29th. Seven years ago tomorrow my whole world turned upside down. Every day I stare at this tableau there is a stab of pain and a flood of memories.

This morning I was wondering this morning how I was going to address tomorrow. Since 2009 I can't approach January 29 as if it were any other day. I remember the first few years the number 29 drove me crazy. Every time the number came up in any context I experienced anxiety.  That faded eventually but the day is still a difficult day to approach.

In fact, beginning January 29, 2009, every major holiday and special occasion has been painful. Starting in August, with Jerry's birthday, until February there are six days that have nearly wrecked me: his birthday on August 6th, Thanksgiving, Christmas, our wedding anniversary on January 11th, his death on the 29th, and Valentine's Day. For nearly half the year, since 2009, I've clinched my teeth, straightened my spine, and struggled not to think about Jerry not being here. I rarely succeeded in being stoic. Each month I'd have at least one day where I just fell apart.

This year, I totally forgot Jerry's birthday. I was stunned and upset with myself the day after when I realized it. Sarah and I were sick. I always take flowers but I forgot him. In November, I was away from home for the holiday and things were very busy and filled with people I love so I didn't brood over Thanksgivings Past. Christmas the house was bulging for three weeks. More people I love, my family and some friends, filled the house up and there was no time to really brood over anything but the lack of time alone, which they gave me at intervals. It is probably the first time since he died that I didn't feel bereft or make myself sick crying. With so much coming and going, there were few opportunities to wallow in self-pity. You know there's folks who think that way after 7 years. There were people who thought that way after the first 6 months.

But tomorrow is the 29th. Today there is a pressure in my chest and a sadness hangs over me. I'm not distraught. I'm not prostrate. I don't feel like crying. There is this heaviness in my gut and I feel as if I have lost something, and I need to get up and look for it. Maybe tomorrow I'll find it?

I should go to the cemetery. I should take flowers. I should tell him I haven't really forgotten, that every day, at some point, I see him, hear him, and feel him. Sometimes only for a moment, sometimes for hours. I should remind him that when I see his picture, sitting there on that shelf, a flood of memories rushes over me. They're funny, happy, silly, angry, and sad all at once.

And sometimes, I get angry because he's not here. He left me with an upside down world and no one to help me clean up the mess. I have to figure out everything myself. I have to take care of every problem alone. If I get afraid, there is no one to hold my hand or wrap me in strong arms. No one to tell me everything is going to be fine. No one to fix the car, the toilet leak, the floor, or take out the trash.

Tomorrow is the 29th. Perhaps, the wheels will begin to turn again and the world will right itself. No. No, it won't. Because it is the 29th and on that day, I died, too. I won't find the things I've lost. Who I am now is not who I was on January 29, 2009. Everything I was and was supposed to be was gone in a moment. I watched it vanish into the dark. Maybe that is why it still feels like I've lost something. I didn't lose Jerry. I lost me.

I love you, Jerry Maddox. I'll always love you.

Thursday, January 14, 2016

Some Words Fix Everything

I don't know what we were talking about tonight at supper but something was said about someone taking care of someone. I made the comment that Jerry always took care of me but I didn't have him to do that anymore.

Sarah looked at me and said, "I'm doing that now, Mawmaw."

I said, "What?"

She said, "I'm taking care of you now."

What can you say? Some days life on the ledge is bearable.

Monday, January 11, 2016

Unhappy Start to a New Year

I can't believe the last week. I've had the most miserable week. Pain just slammed me with the weather front that pushed through. Joints, skin, muscles all felt as if I'd been a punching bag for Cassius Clay. Google that and you'll be surprised. I couldn't think because I had a terrible headache for 24 hrs. I am walking in a fog, probably a fibro fog.

This was made all the more frustrating because I had promised myself  I would try and focus less on whining and complaining this year. I don't make resolutions. There is a post somewhere about that. Might be in Life on the Ledge. Anyway, I told myself I'd try and be more positive or not post so many negative things. So naturally, things just went south.

Then today happened. I woke up with the idea I'd do some things around the house and maybe write. In one hour I was basically a zombie. I couldn't think. My brain felt like mush and I was so tired I thought I was going to fall out. Yes, I slept fine. The machine worked. But something is wrong.

I lay down around 1 p.m. I think and dozed. I felt a bit better. As the day wore on, I still was more or less useless. Then Sarah and I got stomach problems. She threw up. I had Montezuma's revenge. No idea what caused all that. I am still tired and about to get my shower and turn in. Maybe tomorrow will be better. We get to sleep in because schools are on a two-hour delay. So, we can sleep until 8:30. Yay!

I've been getting used to the new laptop, Blue. I miss Red but one must move on. I'm ready now to do some writing. If my brain will comply.And I'd like to finish the two books I'm reading. So much to do and I feel awful.

Nite Nite.