Counting Days
I just got back from a nice dinner with a new friend that I made through the widow board. She was telling me how she still counts the months since her husband died 15 months ago. And it made me realize that I stopped doing that.
I took Joe to the ER on May 1, 2004. He died on May 6, 2004. For at least one year after his death, every month from the 1st to the 6th was torture for me. I wasn't even always aware of the date, but would realize that I was in a terrible funk, would check the calendar, and sure enough it would be the first of the month. Each day leading to the 6th would get progressively worse for me. By the 6th I would be barely functioning.
And then on the 7th, I would be fine. Or as fine as was possible. It would often feel like a weight was lifted off of me that had been pushing me down for days.
The week leading up to the one year anniversary was the worst one of all. I spent most of my days crying hysterically, pleading with Joe to come home. I remember one day walking into my classroom, opening my mouth to say, "good morning," and instead burst out in tears. I then spent the whole morning sobbing in my principal's office. Melanie tells me that I was asking her to let me call Joe's cell phone, but she wouldn't let me. I honestly don't even remember doing that, but do remember being almost as distraught as when he died.
But then a strange thing happened. I stopped noticing the date. The 6th no longer became a day that I dreaded. It no longer marked ___ number of months for me. It just became another day. I have no idea when that happened, but I imagine it was shortly after the 1 year mark.
Having that discussion tonight made me realize just how far I've come. I am so thankful that I don't have that same traumatic experience every month anymore. I'm glad for me, for my kids, and for Joe. I have no doubt that he hated watching me those first 6 days of every month.
And I have no doubt that he is now very proud of all that I'm doing. That I'm moving on. I'm no longer counting every day as another day without him, but as another day for me and our children.
-b
I took Joe to the ER on May 1, 2004. He died on May 6, 2004. For at least one year after his death, every month from the 1st to the 6th was torture for me. I wasn't even always aware of the date, but would realize that I was in a terrible funk, would check the calendar, and sure enough it would be the first of the month. Each day leading to the 6th would get progressively worse for me. By the 6th I would be barely functioning.
And then on the 7th, I would be fine. Or as fine as was possible. It would often feel like a weight was lifted off of me that had been pushing me down for days.
The week leading up to the one year anniversary was the worst one of all. I spent most of my days crying hysterically, pleading with Joe to come home. I remember one day walking into my classroom, opening my mouth to say, "good morning," and instead burst out in tears. I then spent the whole morning sobbing in my principal's office. Melanie tells me that I was asking her to let me call Joe's cell phone, but she wouldn't let me. I honestly don't even remember doing that, but do remember being almost as distraught as when he died.
But then a strange thing happened. I stopped noticing the date. The 6th no longer became a day that I dreaded. It no longer marked ___ number of months for me. It just became another day. I have no idea when that happened, but I imagine it was shortly after the 1 year mark.
Having that discussion tonight made me realize just how far I've come. I am so thankful that I don't have that same traumatic experience every month anymore. I'm glad for me, for my kids, and for Joe. I have no doubt that he hated watching me those first 6 days of every month.
And I have no doubt that he is now very proud of all that I'm doing. That I'm moving on. I'm no longer counting every day as another day without him, but as another day for me and our children.
-b
8 comments:
i used to do that with my mom's date...the 16th. the date of when she was diagnosed with cancer until the day she died April 29th-June 16th is still hard on me and it will be 4 years this year. i'm hoping that it doesn't feel as bad. again thanks for posting from your heart...it helps so many people :)
You're doing a great thing for your kids by keeping life going.I am positive that your husband is happy with how strong you have been for your family.I'm going on 23 years since my dad passed away (I was only 3.) I don't have too many actual memories of him, but my mom never let me forget what a wonderful person he was. I think of him often, but it's not the sadness anymore, it's more of how great he was, and I'm glad he was in my life, even if it was only for a short time. You're doing great:)
Emotional Girl,
I hope that this year is easier than years past. I'm glad that you find my blog to be helpful, and not depressing!
Jo,
Thanks for sharing that with me. I'm glad that your mom was able to talk to you about your dad, and that you have such positive feelings towards him. Gives me hope that my boys will feel the same way when they are older. When you were little, did you ever see your dad? After he died, I mean. Or do you have any stories about feeling his presence?
It's nice that you can see how far you've come, and to know that with each passing day you move further and further along. There's so much life to lived ahead of you -- for you and your children.
*big smile*
It's so nice you can see where you've been, and how far you've come.
My uncle died thanksgiving 2001. Every thanksgiving since is met with sadness. It has gotten better but the fun of the holidays would all be but gone if it were not for the kids. For the kids we still make it as fun as possible.
I think it just takes time. I am glad to hear you are taking the steps in the right direction. I think you are doing a great job.
B- When I was about 12 years old, I was really having a hard time dealing with my dad being gone. I would see all my friends playing with their dads, and just doing all the fun stuff that i felt like I had missed out on.
This one night in particular, my mom heard me crying, and told me that I should write dad a letter whenever I felt the need, and that he would always know exactly what I was writing. I gave it a shot, and later on that night, I prayed that I would see my dad just once...and I promise you that when I opened my eyes he was there. I couldn't see him, but right next to my bed I seen a shadow, and I knew it was him. I wasn't scared. It was some sort of closure, that I knew whenever I really needed my dad, he would be there. And to this day, I still write him letters, & I pray. I also started leaving him something everytime I go to visit. It used to be marbles, but now it's pennies. Either way, I know he is with me everyday.
Your boys will know that feeling too. They may be young now, but as long as you share stories with them he will be with them forever:)
Jo,
Thanks for sharing. That's a great story; it made me smile.
Post a Comment