the best medicine is unavailable right now

I do so miss his laugh. I need to keep reminding myself that even though he had endured the loss of his brother at a very young age, the loss of his six year old son and many other painful challenges over his life, he could still find something to laugh about in most situations.

But now, when I need to hear his laughter the most, it's gone.

missing him

I miss how Jeff loved me. The comfortable knowing that he loved me...every bit of me. He thought my panic-filled neurosis were endearingly hilarious. He thought I was beautiful as even when I had just woken up or had packed on a tonne of baby weight. None of it mattered to him. He loved to be with me. He laughed at me....not in a mean way, just in a comforting you're-such-a-silly-spaz-and-I-think-it's-great kind of way.

We definitely didn't always see eye-to-eye. We had our share of disagreements, but I felt safe to not agree with him. It was okay. He loved me even when I thought he was being an idiot (or vice versa).

I am so very lonely. Not lonely for other people. Just lonely for him and our life together. We were a team. How do I do this alone? Why did this have to happen? What am I going to do?

I think to the outside world it looks like I am functioning. I am used to doing some of this on my own because I am used to him going fishing. But I am not functioning. The pain hasn't gotten better. I am just learning how to carry it. And it sucks. It really, really sucks.

broken everything

I just want to let you know that if you don't hear from me for a few days it's because my computer is broken. It crashes constantly, freezes often and is a general pain in the bum. My camera isn't working either.
The basement is in disarray from my little flood and there is chicken bedding littering the stairs. There is paper work seemingly everywhere that I have to fill out regarding Jeff's death and the changing over of car insurance, etc. from the two of us to only me.
Life seems to be in chaos. I can't seem to get anything done. At least, anything that stays done. I clean the kitchen and within minutes it's messy again. I wash the floor and then someone comes over and wears their muddy shoes in the house. I try to organize some of the paperwork only to find that I need some other piece of paperwork and have to get it from some office. I forget to pay attention when they tell me and then it just all seems like too much.
However, I came home yesterday to dinner on the front porch. (Thanks so very, very much, Michelle!) It's wonderful because I keep forgetting to take things out of the freezer for dinner and when I look in the fridge, I just stare into it's depths and forget to plan dinner. We end up having scrambled eggs.
I am still so wonderfully awed by people's assistance. I know it won't last forever but it is so comforting knowing that for the time being we'll be okay...at least food and bills wise....mentally, I just don't know.
I find accepting help still very hard. I try to do things to cheer Liv up and have the three of us looking forward to something but then find myself worrying that someone else might not like that we spent some money on paint. I had this when I bought the paint for the playhouse the other day. I felt apologetic and felt that I needed to explain to the hardware store man (he knows us) why we needed paint. Do I need to justify it? Probably not. But I am always worried about trying to make sure that I only spend money on what someone who gave us a few dollars would want us to spend it on. Smiles from a confused and sad little five year old are worth it, right?

Liv is having a hard time now. She has nightmares often and is rather fearful. She is worried that something will happen to me or that I won't return to pick her up from playdates with her buddies. She says she can't sleep because she just ends up crying since she 'misses Daddy so much'. Out of the blue, she'll ask "Why did Daddy die?" "How did Daddy turn into ashes?" "Who is going to fix my watch now?" When we go to the doctor, she wants the doctor to listen to her lungs and heart to make sure she's okay. Oh, I so want to make it better.
I end up sleeping...or trying to sleep with a child in each arm while I lay on my back. They wimper and cry out in their sleep and Briar often wakes up and calls out for Jeff. In fact, he calls out for Jeff quite often now. It's strange because initially I wasn't sure that he would notice too much because Jeff would fish away from home. I thought he'd be used to Jeff be gone some of the time. He starts crying out for Jeff though and calls for him for long periods of time....during the day as well. I try to explain that 'Daddy's gone'. A one year old has no idea what this means. Liv gets annoyed and covers her ears and screams "Daddy's DEAD! Daddy's DEAD! Daddy's DEAD!" It's as close to living a nightmare as it can get, I think.

if I could turn back time

Okay, maybe quoting Cher is cheesy but I so wish that I could start again. Relive it all. Memories are just not enough when you are only one of a pair who remember. Jeff was so gentle and sweet with Olivia always. She loved her daddy so.
She looked like a little princess that day...and everyday.
I love him so...I wish I could hold his hand one more time. Kiss him one more time. Look into his eyes and tell him that I love him 'the whole pie' one more time.

clean sheets

I did manage to wash my sheets....and I feel okay about it. Jeff loved the smell of the sheets dried on the washline. I figure that this is a positive way to remember him too - with the smell he loved.

I did keep one set of sheets stored in the closet and the others I washed. I also continue to sleep with his clothes.

Isn't it ridiculous that I am now writing posts about my laundry habits and which articles of Jeff's clothing I sleep with? It must be royally boring. Sorry.

to believe or not to believe

I have always wondered, "What happens to us? Is there really something out there?" I am a sceptic - a sceptic who is open to the possibility, but a sceptic none the less. I don't believe in some man sitting in the clouds watching over everything we do. However, I think there is a possibility of some 'higher' power that we don't yet understand. I believe that EVERYONE has the right to believe what they think to be true...no matter what it is. We will all find out in the end, I suppose.
BUT I am having a harder time believing now. Not because I am angry at some possible higher power for 'causing' Jeff's death. Not because I think that higher power could have changed the coarse of events if I had prayed or gone to church. I just think that the whole idea of life after death may be a 'fairytale' that we tell ourselves and others to comfort ourselves when thinking of the possible finality of death. I think that there are amazing occurrences...but they can all be explained as coincidences. I SO hope I am wrong. I would find the idea that Jeff is still with me so comforting. I would love to KNOW that he is here. But that would take faith that I just can't seem to muster right now.
How do we know????

melancholy bed linens

I have been sitting in the rocking chair in my room for a period of time each day staring at our bed and crying. I am trying to muster up the courage to wash the sheets. I tell myself, "Jeff would laugh at this. He'd think I was being silly and sentimental. They are just sheets. They aren't him." But he slept there. There are 'Jeff germs' on them.

I 'saved' the sheets from the bed in the spare room because of the same reason. They are folded neatly, with his towel he used that morning, the clothes he passed in and the clothes I was wearing that day in my closet. Do I need to add the sheets from every bed in the house? No, but it is hard to do.

He slept with Olivia for a time the night before as well because she was crying. I'm having a hard time washing her sheets too.

I sit in the chair and tell myself, "You can do it. They should be washed. You have other things that Jeff touched too." Then I sit there and sob.

I usually wash the sheets once a week. It's driving me nuts....But I don't want to wash him away.

Everything that changes in the house takes me farther away from him. I have a hard time dusting because I heard that dust is made up of 85% skin cells....some of those cells are Jeff's.

I have a box of hair in my closet along with the clothes and sheets that I'm hoarding. The day he died, my sister and I scoured the house looking for hairs in the bed, the bathtub and on the floor. I didn't want to lose anymore of him.

Am I crazy? Please tell me that I should wash the sheets. Tell me it's okay. He would want me and the kids to be on clean sheets, right? I'm just being silly and sentimental, right?
I think I've lost it.

the less desirable traits

Jeff's snoring drove me insane. I'd rage when I tripped over his shoes at the front door. His horking in the shower revolted me. I'd be spitting mad when he'd fart and pull the covers over my head while I slept....Now those annoying or bad habits are treasured memories. Who would have thought? They were all signs that he was home and with us. Now I would be overjoyed to awoken in the night to the cacaphony of his snoring. I'd pick myself up from the floor and run to find him. I'd try not to complain when he horked.....I may even not complain for one or two 'dutch ovens'.
I wish I still had these things to rage against....instead of raging against the loss of him.

I dream of Jeffrey

I had a dream of Jeff last night. He had left a message on my cellphone singing me the song we had danced to at our wedding ('Into the Mystic' by Van Morrison). At the end, he told me that he didn't have much time and to call him back as soon as I could.

He met me at some farm somewhere. He told me he had been fishing. I was laughing and crying and holding him. I was telling him that I had thought he was dead and had had a funeral for him and Oh! how I had missed him. He held me and laughed while I buried my face in his chest. I held him and hugged him and I swear I could smell him. I was so happy.

It was amazing and wonderful. I didn't want to let him go.

Then...I woke up....the world came down crashing again. Olivia was having one of her recent nightmares and was crying out for me. For a moment, I was so happy thinking what a wonderful mistake it had all been....Then, I remembered. It was just so real. I hope I have another dream like that of him soon.

I'm going to call my dream my one good thing today. I can't find much else. I feel so alone without him. There are so many things I want to tell him.

chickens & soap

We had a bit of a better day. I am trying to find one good thing each day. Today it was chicks. Liv asked me to get her some birdseed to fill the feeder she and Jeff had made a week before he died. I stopped at the local feed store and found these little ones. People walking by must have thought I was deranged....I watched them laughing with tears streaming down my face for a good twenty minutes. I'd laugh because they were so funny falling asleep where they stood. Then cry thinking of the chicken coop plans that Jeff had made sitting in his workshop. Laugh at their jostling for heat under the lamp. Cry thinking that Liv was so excited to get chickens and now we weren't. Laugh as they gobbled up their chick food. Cry because I am so sad about everything. Laugh because I knew Jeff would want me to. Cry. Laugh. Cry. Laugh. Anyhow, I ended up ordering four Buff Orpington chicks. I decided that we need something to look forward to around here.

Also, I embarassed myself at the bank today. I think it's a bit funny but at the same time, I am sure it's odd. I am paraphrasing the conversation here:

Bank lady (who now knows who I am because of my grief stricken arrival a few days after Jeff's death): "How are you?......"

Me: "Okay. I can't use the soap."

Bank lady: "What?"

Me: "I can't use the soap because I know that Jeff was the last one to touch it and I don't want to wash him off."

Bank lady: "Oh."

Me: "Sorry, that was weird. I just told the bank lady something weird."

Bank lady: "That's okay."

Me: *shuffles away feeling like a moron*

Anyhow, I have had a few tears today but not as many as yesterday. I know this is going to take awhile but one breath at a time, right?

P.S. I do use some soap. Just not the one Jeff last used. I don't want you to think I'm gross.

your hands

One of the things I will miss the most about you is your hands. I used to tell you that if elephants had hands, they would have hands like yours. They were so large, warm and capable.

You could deftly mend a net, build a toy of wood, and seemingly move mountains with your strong hands. And then you could cradle a baby so gently, hold me so softly and comfort me so sweetly with those same hands.

I know every callous, every crookedly mended bone, every hang-nail and every hair. I held your hands so long that mine now feel so empty. Whose hands will I hold now? Who will show me reassurance and comfort just with the touch of a hand?

You have my initials tattooed on your ring finger because you couldn't wear your wedding ring while at work. I think I was more touched by the permanence of this than by our own wedding.

I know have your wedding ring on a necklace around my neck. My own wedding ring that I have never removed since you put it on is a size 6 1/2. Your size 15 ring is a comforting weight around my neck.

I miss your hands. I miss you.

Thank you so much for all the words of support and comfort from you all. I do read them and would so love to reply but I just can't right now. You have all touched me so deeply and I can't express how comforting to know that there are people thinking of me and my little family. Thank you.