I really am at a loss for words today. I am not sure how I ended up here, but I don't like it. I have been pretty numb this past week. So numb, that I feel guilty for not crying when others are. I kept asking myself, "why am I not crying? This isn't normal! I loved him so, yet everyone else seems to be tore up, and here I am, just staring off into space." I cannot focus on anything. It all comes and goes in spurts. I am fine one moment, and then the next I am not. My life has become nothing but unpredictable, and uncertain.
Today we buried my husband. That was beyond hard. I didn't want to leave the cemetery, just as I didn't want to leave the hospital room that night. I felt like I was abandoning him. I know he is no longer with his body, but sometimes it is hard to distinguish between the two.
I know one day, it will get better. I'll get there eventually, but it seems so unreachable and unattainable at this very moment. I lost my step-mother several years ago, and that was the first person I had ever lost, that I was close to. It was hard, but it has gotten easier. I still think of her daily, but not with as much sadness...more with smiles of the memories we shared. She was also young, in her early thirties, and also died of cancer. Yet I cannot compare the two. This was my best friend. My soul mate. My world. The two are not interchangeable. I cannot even begin to look at what my future holds, because it's too scary. I cannot fathom a life without him. I always imagined growing old with him, and sharing moments with our children, and grandchildren. Now he is gone, and I am alone. I have so many people surrounding me, yet I still feel so alone, because I am.
It was a beautiful service yesterday. There were so many people who came. Just like I told him there would be. I laughed. I cried. Most of all, I missed. After the service, we had a reception. The room was filled with mostly laughter, and a few tears. This is what Pat would have wanted. Toward the end, I had a pretty revealing moment. A woman came up to me, and introduced me to her kids as "Pat's widow." Wow. That was pretty hard to hear. That's what my life has become. I am a widow at 26 years old. It just doesn't seem possible. When I was 16, if you would have asked me where I thought I would be in ten years, never in a million years did I think I would be here. I don't want to be here right now.
I know I will be with him again, and right now, I wish it was my time....now. Don't read into this the wrong way. I am not saying I am going to commit suicide. And don't get me wrong, I love my family, and I love my boys. But right now, none of it matters. I miss my love, and I want to be with him. I know the only way that will happen, is if I go too. If you have never lost a spouse, then I don't expect you to understand. If you have lost your spouse, then you know exactly what I mean.
I have gone back and read some of my blog posts, and honestly I am not sure how I even wrote some of them. Some of them sound so positive, and uplifting, even after he passed. I apologize that I am not there today. It will be a long time healing. I'm sure I will go back and forth, up and down. I already have. It's only been a week, yet it feels like an eternity.
My son Keegan, is such a lover. In a little over a week, he will be five. He understands, but minimally, what is going on. He was with his biological dad, in Washington, when Pat passed. He got here this past friday, for the services and such. When I sat down to tell him, my heart broke all over again. Another revealing moment. I got a few pamphlets from the funeral home. One was entitled, "Talking With a Child About a Loved One's Death." It explained to avoid using phrases like, 'passed away', or 'went away', because it doesn't convey the finality of death. So for the first time all week, I had to actually utter the words, "Pat died, honey." His lip quivered a bit, and his eyes welled up with tears, but I know he doesn't fully understand, since later that evening he asked, "Mommy, where's Pat? Pat's at the doctors?" And I have to try to explain it all over again. He still asks, but after he asks, he responds to his own question with, "Pat's with God?" "Yes, honey, Pat's with God now." I respond. He sees my pain, and keeps asking me, "Mommy, you ok?!" "Let me gib you a hug," then he hugs me. He says, "Mommy, let me gib you a kiss," and not only kisses my mouth, but my cheek, and my forehead. It is the sweetest thing, ever.
