What the heck am I doing? How did my husband die on me? I mean, legit HOW in the world is this my life?
I'm awake as I am most nights, and I'm hungry so I'm eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And crying. I'm pathetic.
But then again, I'm not. I'm just so dang broken.
I mean, we had it all planned out. We were gonna grow old together on this friggin farm and watch our kids and grandkids while we sat on the front porch with our ice tea. We were gonna love each other with all our hearts and souls forEVER. And now I don't even want to be here some days. Some days it's just too painful and I think what the heck?!?! I need to throw a dart and get the heck outta dodge. But then I feel like I would be leaving him.
And here's what I really hate. My memory.
Widow Brain has wreaked havoc on my memory for some normal little day to day tasks that I just completely forget to do or forget when something is supposed to happen when literally I would just have talked about it. Like yesterday my girls' basketball team was playing in a tournament and I was talking with our assistant coach about if we won or lost, when we would play again. Not even an hour later, I had to text another coach to ask when. What the heck? So my memory screws with me and I can't remember stupid little things like that but you wanna know what I do remember?
I distinctly remember the way it felt in the pit of my stomach when I heard the coroner of the neighboring county tell me my husband was dead. I mean he told me over the F-ING phone! I remember shaking and not believing him so I told him, "ummm no, you're wrong. You are totally talking about the wrong person and nope it's not Mike. Thank you," and I hung up. Seriously. That's how my first conversation went with this man. And then the second time I dialed my husband's number, after a few minutes of not really registering but telling our 10 year old son to pray no matter what and rely on God no matter what, this man confirmed again that the love of my life was dead.
I remember falling to the gravel on my knees and the sharpness of the rocks that I didn't even feel until I stood after our son collapsed on the ground beside me. I remember telling him his dad was not coming home.
I remember all the people flooding our home and crying so much and being so drugged up on shock, grief, and Xanax that I literally could not walk to the bathroom by myself. I remember the smell of his coat and his wallet and his last set of work clothes that luckily I hadn't washed yet. I remember hyperventilating when my sister arrived after a 2-hour drive that should have taken 3 1/2. I remember making eye contact with her and not breathing. I remember her coming to me with a cold wet washcloth the hours and days ahead when I would have a complete meltdown. I remember the strange feeling that overtook me and the look I would give to her when it was about to hit.
I remember apologizing to people for these massive meltdowns. I don't know why I did, but I did. I remember thinking, "I hate that this is what my son is seeing but I literally cannot control it."
I just sure wish he was here and none of these memories existed. I wish I could sleep. I wish I could STOP reliving the day he died over and over and over. Or the day we buried him. It was so cold and I was dressed in the traditional black clothing: black sweater and dress pants, hair pulled back on a low pontytail, not one drop of makeup. And his brown, torn, stained, Carhartt coat that smelled of him.
Here is what I want to say to you, folks.
Love.
For the love of all things good, LOVE. Love hard and love as long as you can. Do not hesitate for one second to tell someone how you feel. Do not let fights last for days. Forgive each other. Swallow your pride and say you're sorry. Hold on to each other and hold on tight. End every phone call with an "I love you." If you aren't with anyone right now but you want to be, and he wants to be with you, then by golly GO FOR IT. Risk it. Try it. And if you fail, get back up and try again. But if you already have someone, cherish him. For the love of God, cherish him. Do those little things to spoil him. Make him where there is not ever one ounce of doubt in his mind how much you want him, need him, respect him, appreciate him, and love him.
Mike was sometimes a very hard man to love. He was rough around the edges and sometimes said or did things that hurt me deeply. But I was not going to give up on us. And the day he died, we were happier and more in love than ever.
So, I'm gonna go cry into my cereal a little more and take some Tylenol PM in hopes I drift to sleep soon and forget all the memories that won't let me go.
Much love to all of you. May God bring you peace in whatever area you may need it this Christmas Season and always. Pray for my son, our family and me as we approach two years. December 29 is our least favorite day of all.
#stillhis
Love,
Veronica
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