It took 2 hours to get out of bed this morning. The alarm (music) goes off at 5:30, normally I like this weekend alone-time before Himself and the kid get up, it’s a peaceful time to gather my thoughts and get ready for the day. There is way too much alone time now, though. Himself would be getting up around 8, and fix a brunch for #4, possibly salmon patties and eggs. he loved those things and I despised them. Stunk up the whole house, they did. I would be fine with it now, though.
I kind of wish there were some way to give a taste of what this feels like. There are so many things I wouldn’t have taken for granted. But that’s the way of life, isn’t it…being comfortable with a person, enough so that things can irritate you about them, even when you love them so very much. “Never take them for granted” people say, and I see what they mean. But unless you actually know WHY you shouldn’t do that, how do you not?
But it is kind of like explaining what green is to a blind person. You just can’t until it’s been experienced. My hope with all this writing is twofold. One, to keep a record of the process. I want to see how it unfolds, to be able to go back and recognize what it has done to me. And two, to show other people, maybe give them some idea of what this is like, and possibly give hope eventually to someone else who loses their beloved.
Anyway, the alarm went off and…I didn’t want to get up. Getting up meant not seeing him. Staying in bed meant at least a couple of hours of not thinking about it. I have never been the “stay in bed all day” type, even when I was in the deepest and darkest places of depression many years ago. There were always others who needed to be cared for. Back then it was young children, and I thank God for them because if it weren’t for their needs…who knows. And now, it is the dogs. Ok yes, dogs. not children. I know that . I am not someone who equates dogs with children. I think that’s a little weird. However, the dogs are crated at night and they are unable to get out of the crates by themselves and certainly don’t deserve to stay there all day. So I get up to let them out, feed them, have some sort of rhythm and needs fulfilled.
There was a text from a friend on the phone “I’ll pick you up at 10:10” and I tried to come up with lame excuses not to go…a mission conference at the church…before…Before Himself Left This Mortal Coil…or something…I could have said something like “Oh, sorry, Himself is home and blahblah” but now….notsomuch. Ok fine, but do I have to get dressed? Probably. Probably ought to shower as well. Even though I have a Very Fine Excuse. It also means deciding what to wear. O for the time of Widows Weeds…maybe part of the reason for those was because it eliminated the need to decide such things.
Sigh. Yesterday was a Good Day. Today, who knows. I will enjoy the brunch as long as everyone doesn’t come up and tell me how sorry they are for my loss. I know that already and I thank them for their concern but please don’t. I am sure some will. Dear Lord, give me a gracious spirit for these ladies who are just being nice.
This isn’t depression. I know what that feels like and this isn’t it. This is just…why bother? So much of what I did revolved around Himself and now I am kind of at loose ends. I was even wondering the other day if I needed to bother shaving my legs anymore. Then I decided not to go there. There is such a thing as letting go too much. But this all feels rudderless. At least for a while…or maybe like my feet have slipped on ice and I am splattered on the sidewalk. I don’t know how it feels. Kind of like I would really like to go back to bed. I will not. I will not go back to bed. #4 needs his mom to lead by example. I am thankful he needs me.