I’m not the best at taking advice. I don’t know if it’s because I’m so stubborn or what? Either way, I take the path less followed and learn the hard way more often than not.
I’ll do it myself or die trying. Consequently, I’ve done some very stupid shit. I rewired the garage, for instance. Complete with a whole new breaker box, new wire and outlets… ugh. That was a bad week in a great life.
Sleep is a constant challenge for me on the heels of this unending Incredicock nightmare. I’m lucky to get 6 hours a night and verrrrrry fortunate if those six happen in a solid span. It’s generally 2 hours here and there until I give up and get up. I’ve tried tea, masturbating, light therapy, eliminated television, exercise, etc. I’m haunted by dreams of him and the bone deep longing he encourages. I’m exhausted, sexually tormented and depressed. Yay boys.
I stopped eating a while back. Food is love to me and when I’m sad it’s the last thing I care about. I make elaborate meals for the Dumpling who would really be happiest if I just bought a stack of pizzas and stopped trying to get her on board with brussels sprouts.
The joy has gone out of me, for lack of a better description. I miss the me I used to be and wish so much I could find her. I’m sick of this sad shell of a lady who always accepts whatever is lazily offered.
Just when you think you might drown in sorrow, something sparkly catches your eye. For me it was my ridiculously overgrown gardenia plant, which now has it’s own wheels because I can’t move it by myself when it’s heavily watered. I loathe winter, and bought this lovely bush a few years ago in full bloom on a sad, snowy day. It has nearly died a half dozen times, only to take root and THRIVE in the past year. She’s 4′ tall and just about to burst wide open in bloom. I need that. Those waxy white blooms WILL make me feel better.
I was awake most of Saturday night, absolutely grief stricken and traumatized by the visions of the day that were burned into my heart and the back of my eyelids. Some moments in life are so awful that there’s no making sense of them.
When my best friend Vera died, I had to pick out clothes for her to be buried in and when I got to the funeral home to see her for the first time, she didn’t look anything like herself. She would have been thrilled- her hair and makeup were amazing- but it was doubly painful to see her be made up differently. Her cold, hard body was so vacant but it was important to me to help dress her. It was one of the hardest and most important things I’ve ever done in my life, but definitely high on the list of things I hoped I wouldn’t have to do again.
Saturday morning hit me like a train and I woke up to the realization of it all, freshly. So devastated it felt wrong that the sun rose right on schedule.
Friendship gets you through everything, and Anthony has been there for me in some of the absolute worst moments of my life. In the depths of this heartache I’ve been drowning in, he’s been my one friend championing his favorite lover of mine. He texted me #teamincredicockforever almost daily. The silence of my telephone is one of the worst things I’ve had to adjust to in these nightmare first hours. His death feels like the end of everything.
I’m a single parent without the ability to call for help. Her daddy would absolutely drop everything and be here if he could, but this is real life and that’s not possible. He’s working 12 hour days in Kentucky and saving the day just isn’t an option. I have no choice but to swallow these feelings and be present as a mother.
So we played. We read. We painted nails and snuggled. I sunk into the love I know is real. I went searching for myself in the details of the beautiful life I’ve made and found the comfort I needed so desperately.
I made clam chowder for the first time in my life and MY GOD… it’s delicious enough that I may shave a few pounds off my 14 lb recent weight loss.
I ate, I slept and I cried.
Saturday was ground zero. Sunday was the first day of the rest of my life.
I put clean sheets on our beds, scrubbed the house clean and did my best to laugh about the good stuff instead of drowning in tears. I took the advice of my best girl.
F- Just take today for you.
I’m a natural born wifey and I did just what she suggested. I cooked, cleaned, cuddled and knit my heart a little better. I picked up pieces I’ve neglected and crossed a dozen things off my to-do list.
I gave myself permission to have the domestic bender I so desperately needed.
So now I have a shitload of sauerkraut fermenting on the counter, a dozen jars of clam chowder in the freezer, clean clothes and a happy little girl.
I’m going to find my way through this ocean of grief, one domestic detail at a time. ♥