Yesterday sucked. I was tense, deeply unhappy, and exhausted. Each of those things is bad enough but put them together and it’s…misery. It was a bad, bad day. Anxiety about the near future compounded it all. I am sure there’s some math formula in there that expresses it logically but new widows and logic are mutually exclusive.
Last night, at 6:30, I announced that I was going to bed, and don’t you know, there wasn’t anyone to tell me it was too early. Not that Himself was unreasonable about such things, but under most circumstances that is a bit early. However, there was no one to discuss it with, it was my decision to make and mine alone. It is slowly occuring to me that many decisions now are mine to make.Where to live is no longer based on his job. I can go where I want to go. The type of house, mine to decide. How I want to cut my hair…ok, generally was my choice but he always asked that it not be shorter than his. I can shave my head now if I want to. No, I don’t really want to but knowing I could is kind of liberating. In a sad sort of way.
Everything I think and do is wrapped in a blanket of sadness. But it’s ok. I am sad because Himself is not here any more. He’s off doing better things now and one day I’ll see him again. There is joy in that. It is a profound, indescribable sense of joy, for him because he is THERE and life here was pretty frustrating for him. No more frustrations for him, just great fun and good times! I am so happy for him! But sad for me and the boys because he isn’t here with us. You know that, I have only said it 100 times over the past week
But wow…making my own decisions. That’s kind of…cool, in a way. Kind of scary, as well, but cool. Do I want to go to the local technical school and get a few certificates so I can get a job? I’d be a good secretary/administrative person, and there’s always openings for those. I like working with old people, maybe a CNA or LPN and work at a local nursing home or assisted living place. There is a new one opening up in December. Decisions decisions. Himself would be good with it, not that it matters much, but he would. #4 starts driving in April, so he won’t need me to get around. A job might be the thing. Or, I could work on building my sewing into a business. Right now I just do what I want, when I want, mostly for barter…eggs, etc.
Is there something wrong that I am not in full-on grief mode? Am I supposed to sit down and wail for 40 days? I have never been a person to dwell on things, it’s more easier (ha…) to get up and do something about it all. I despise waiting. Don’t get me wrong, there is a veil of sadness over all of this, but making plans is something that makes me very happy. Himself knew that and was always asking me to plan a trip 18 months in the future, or figure out something, or find plans for this house and some land somewhere and figure it all out. Being able to do that has been helpful. Recovery? that’s a process and will take a while, but there is no reason that I can find why I shouldn’t be making plans for *my* future.