But I'm angry at and about so many things. Some of the things about which I'm so angry I can't say out loud; some of them I can't even write here because I know my anger will offend the people toward whom it's directed. So, I wake sometimes with a mixture of sadness, desperation, worry, guilt, and then anger.
"The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing... not healing, not curing... that is a friend who cares."
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After all, he was mine.
he was just here.
he loved me, really and truly loved me.
he held my hand.
he kissed me often.
he told me how much he loved me every day.
he fought with me.
he made up with me.
he whispered sweet nothings and secret longings in my ear.
he looked at me.
he looked into my soul.
he held me up when I felt weak.
he took care of me when I was sick.
he laughed so hard with me.
he made me laugh so hard with him.
he made love to me like I was the only woman he had ever been with.
he made me feel special.
he actually made me feel beautiful, which has always been a difficult task.
he made me trust fully.
he made me believe in happiness again.
he sang when he thought I couldn't hear.
he watched me when I didn't know he was looking.
he surprised me.
he left me notes.
he took me on adventures.
he taught me how to "farm"...I'm still working on that.
he got angry at his cows and threw little "fits" that I miss.
he taught me how to drive a tractor.
he smiled when he saw me driving his truck.
he taught me how to tear down my walls.
he taught me how to fight for what I want.
he listened to me and what upset me...took him a few years to learn that one.
he swept me off my feet.
he stole my heart, my mind, my body, and my soul within a few days.
he asked me to marry him at a road side park.
he promised his love and life to me on an August evening.
he was proud to be seen with me.
he grew to like kissing me in public...not ronchy kissing...just a simple, perfect kiss.
he complimented me multiple times every single day.
he blessed me with a son.
he held our son and placed him in my arms.
he rocked him to sleep at night when I needed a turn to rest.
he slow danced in the living room with our baby in his arms.
he slow danced with me in the kitchen.
he filled my life with small, perfect, simple memories.
he cried.
he cried because his oldest son didn't live with us.
he cried when his oldest didn't come for the weekend.
he cried when plans changed in the blink of an eye, without warning.
he cried at people's evilness.
he cried out of guilt.
he made mistakes that to some were unforgivable.
he was afraid to forgive himself.
he never did.
he was insecure.
he felt he was never good enough, though he was beyond any measure of "good enough".
he was selfless.
he helped his friends any time they called.
he worked harder than any man I've ever known.
he never stopped working.
he fought me over work.
he took on too much.
he could never stop; he didn't have a choice.
he died while working.
he left us.
he didn't mean to.
he is still my husband.
I am still his wife.
Conner and Tristan are still his sons.
Chris is still his mom.
Becky is still his sister.
PR is still his brother.
my family is still his family.
my heart is still his.
my soul still belongs to him.
my heart still breaks every day.
my soul still aches every second.
my son cries for his dad almost every day.
we both have dreams of Mike.
we both toss and turn and are restless when we do sleep.
I worry.
I can't control it.
I break down at random moments and in sometimes the most random places.
I can't control that either.
I am still his. All of me. Now. Forever. Always. times Infinity.
So, I'm angry.
I'm angry a lot. I don't say it to very many people and I don't say why I'm angry at all.
I'm angry that I was finally, FINALLY, truly happy in my life! And then, BOOM...it's all gone. My life as I knew it is gone. I'm still here, yes...I'm still thankful for my health and safety and for the health and safety of my family and friends. I thank God every single day for that. But my life, the life I knew for over 13 years, has ended. I don't like this new one. I'm not a fan of it at all. It sucks. Being young and a widow SUCKS. There's nothing to it. No sugar coating. No blah blah blah...
Now, please understand that MOST of what people do/say I KNOW means well, but sometimes it's just not the right thing to say. I know most people don't mean for it to sound distasteful or whatever, but imagine if you were in my shoes. Would it be something you would want to hear?
I'm angry if someone says, "We need to get you to a good place, girl..." WHAT??? I WAS in a good place and it's only been 5 months since I lost the love of my life and you want to talk to me about getting to a good place???!!!!! HOW? How do you suggest I do that? Forget that I lost him? Forget what I'm going through? I wish I could get to a "good place". I wish I could heal.
There was no preparation for this. I was cleaning house and received a text from his ex-wife telling me that Tristan had heard his dad was hurt at work. Why did she get information about it before I did???? Why didn't someone fly to my house and tell me first? Why was I second, or third, or fourth, or whatever to know??? I was getting phone calls immediately from multiple people who were asking what was going on before I ever spoke with the coroner who answered my husband's phone! Why did that happen?
Don't tell me that I'll "find happiness again". No I won't. Not the kind of happiness that was real and what I had 5 months ago. I'll never find that again. I know I won't. Sure, I might, EVENTUALLY, in YEARS to come, meet someone new. I might date again in YEARS to come, but that's not how this works, folks. I don't just get to "move on". He will always be a part of me. I will always miss him.
I'm angry if someone says, "Let me know if I can do anything." Well, quit saying it and just get your butt up here and offer. Don't wait for me to ask. I don't work that way; Mike didn't work that way. Don't just talk the talk, walk the walk. Show up. Come with a weed eater because I hate weed eating. Come ask what fence needs fixed, what chores need done. I'm tired. I'm not asking for sympathy or handouts, but if you're truly a friend, then just do something. I don't want sympathy. I don't want things done FOR me. I will help. I have worked hard on this farm, and even harder now that my husband is gone, so I will not just sit back and watch it happen. I'll get in there with you. I'm exhausted (yes, I'm a teacher and have the "summer off"...yeah right...but sadness and grief are more exhausting than I ever imagined, so I'm freaking tired and I don't get any time off from the farm, from being a single mom, from my sadness) so maybe I'll sit with my friend and visit and watch you work. Maybe just a visit will be nice. No offers of work, just come sit and have some sweet tea with me and let me talk about my husband. Tell me stories about my husband. Come with dinner at random. Let me kid play with your kid. Invite us over. Invite us into your home when we are lonely. I hate inviting myself somewhere; it's tacky. Invite us. No, I don't mean just tell me once, "Oh, you guys should come over and ....whatever..." I'm not just going to randomly show up at someone's house, so invite us. Help my little boy build memories this summer since he thinks his life sucks now. Don't just tell me you want to do stuff with us this summer. DO IT!!!!!
Don't talk about me. Don't talk about the farm. Don't talk about what I'm having to do on my own that I never dreamed I'd have to do. A freaking estate lawyer. Seriously? What the hell? I'm angry that I didn't insist that Mike have things in order all along. He thought he had all the time in the world and was too busy working to get things squared away. Sure, we talked about it. We talked about it often actually and he told me I was morbid. I wasn't being morbid. I wanted to never be in this legal situation of having to deal with, excuse my language and Lord please forgive me, this shit! I'm pissed. Not at Mike. Not at God. At the situation and the audacity of some people who want to be all up in my business. Who think I'm doing something wrong, or illegal, or immoral. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm not stealing anything or buying anything I shouldn't or selling anything I shouldn't. I'm not doing one thing that my husband wouldn't be proud of. Mike, Conner and God are who I measure what my days go by. I don't need anyone else's approval or permission or understanding. I'm running life like I would if Mike were here. I talk to him about it. I pray about it. I do not do one thing that I feel God is directing me away from. So, you know what...Whatever. I'm doing what I have to do to SURVIVE. That's right...survive. Survive paying bills that I've never had to pay. Survive this farm business. Survive this tragedy that has rocked me to my core. Survive raising my son on my own. Survive all the mean and vengeful and cruel people out there. Survive sadness.
So, yeah I guess one could say I have some pent up aggression. I haven't said these things out loud. I don't have the guts to.
My anger is not directed to my friends and family who have been there for us, and trust me, they are countless. We have had so many friends and family be here for us, welcome us into their homes, bring us dinner, sit and visit and have some sweet tea, let my kid play with their kids, go places with us, worked on the farm alongside me and Conner, talk to me about Mike, tell stories, remember great times, etc...
And maybe I'm not supposed to rant. Maybe I'm not supposed to write these things down because Heaven forbid someone who NEEDS to read this actually might read it and be offended, but my goodness.... I just get so angry. Have some tact. Be my friend! Be Mike's friend by helping his family through this. It's hard. It's unbearable most days. It's still so unreal and painful and fresh. Just be here for us. Quit trying to tear me down any farther than I am. Build us up. Pray for us, pray with us.
Unconventional post? Maybe. But I just took a deep breath and let it out there. I know I'm not alone in these feelings...I guarantee you there are other widows like me who feel the same way. Until you've been here, you don't get it. I hope and pray that you never do.
But, even when my sleep evades me because of anger, it also still evades me because of the absolute devastation of losing the love of my life. So be kind. Just listen. Don't tell me it will get better. Don't tell me it will be ok. Don't. Just listen. Talk about Mike. Do fun stuff with us to distract our minds. That's what we need. That's what we want.
Thanks for reading my ramblings. I hope today is a better day.
I miss you more than words and love you more than anything in this whole wide world, baby...Now, Forever, and Always times Infinity.
I am #still his.
Love,
Veronica
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