There’s always pistachio almond, black walnut, or jamocha almond fudge. dropzone, it’s probably for the best one can’t send ice cream through the mail or you would be inundated under all that yummy goodness.
AT least keep eating. When my dad died I seemed to be the only one who wanted to eat all the time. They started drooping, but came around soon.
That’s pretty darn good. Thanks for checking in.
It has been only that long, hasn’t it? She took so long dying i lost track. Fuck it. Boss mentioned FMLA. I think I’ll take advantage.
Confession is good for the soul: We’ve been virtually separated for 20+ years, with me living in the basement. For the longest time she was the lump on the sofa who would snap at me, often from several rooms away, whenever I coughed or cleared my throat, which I do because I’m asthmatic. I learned to avoid her, which left me terribly lonesome. Part of the stress has come from the people who knew her public personna. At church she was St Pam, so I get a lot of that. And I know that, within that scope, it’s accurate.
We grew closer as she got sick. More accurately, she grew closer. For me she remained a person who had pushed me away for decades, around whom I could only take shallow breaths for fear of knocking some phlegm loose. A person would only accept total agreement when raising our kids, and when I disagreed would start boo-hooing about how she hates me and that she should’ve never married me (probably true). A person who could never understand that I don’t think that soup is dinner. A person who fell asleep immediately after dinner, even before she got sick, leaving me alone. Who said about our infant twins, “You’re home from work, so they’re your problem now,” so I spent two years getting, at best, four non-continuous hours of sleep every night (you need at least two hours out of 48 to not hallucinate, I found). Whose snoring was deafening (one way we knew she was dead is how she stopped snoring). Who put off getting a drivers licence until the twins were in first grade, who preferred that I drive her everyplace, and who took her sweet time shopping while I was bored sick. Who rebuffed most of my advances starting when we got married.
Most of these sound utterly petty. And they are, until they go on year after year. Was the “beloved” in the title a lie? In retrospect, maybe. I’m in love with the girl I met in 1974. The one who claimed to have had an orgasm the first time I kissed her good night. The one who was my best friend for ten years. Not the one who made it very hard to love her for decades after. She wore me out, but I feel terribly guilty for thinking tHat.
Don’t feel guilty. Relationships are complicated. I can understand how knowing the private her would make facing the church crowd even worse. I’m going to have face that someday with my father. It’s ok that you love some of the memories, hate some of them, and are relieved that the past is behind you as well. You have nothing to feel guilty about.
You have carried a heavy load for a long time. Time to set it aside. Peace unto you.
Grieving is hard enough, but being complicated like this makes it even worse. It’s ok to feel guilty, relieved, angry, whatever! There isn’t any wrong way to do grief.
Have you considered counseling? You have a lot to sort out and it will take awhile. It will probably help to have someone to help you do that. Hugs.
This. The absolute truth and beautifully said.
Not one person in 100 would have put up with all the shit then carried the load through her sickness & death.
You have more than fulfilled a great mission in life and have the battle damage to prove it. Relax as best you can and hope for the next chapter. The one where being good to you is job #1. It starts with saying “no” to guilt.
You’ll be spinning all over the emotional Ouija board for a couple months at least. Accept that that’s part of the ride. Some of those places will feel real bad. Others pretty good. Most of them weird. Second guessing “Is this what I’m supposed to be thinking / feeling / doing?” is 100% normal. But mostly unhelpful. So those are thoughts to notice and then discard.
Day 6 now. Soon enough it’ll be day 100 and then day 1000. Long before then you won’t be thinking about the day count. It’ll just be that nebulous and increasingly irrelevant “before”.
Got a call in for counseling. Needed insurance card–found it and wallet with photo ID. Before I found them I had to have a daughter sign for the cremation (needed a notary). At VBS again. Had the largest, healthiest, meal I’ve had in months: four 3" pancakes, four sausage links, and some strawberries. Wife “bought” the kids a TV; coming from the a/v industry not that long ago it astounded me what $198 could buy.
Well said.
On the other hand (I’'m a Gemini. I quickly run out of hands.), VBS has been good for this old heathen because I get to share the grief of many adults who knew and loved her and be a comfort for them. And I like to be around kids when I’m sad. And attractive young mothers. Really attractive. I’ve always said, if you have to go to church, pick a Scandinavian one.*
And I really like our hip, new pastor.
For fun, I responded to an email regarding video projectors mere mortals can’t afford.
“Retail, how much. For me, how little.”
Once upon a time I had a career. it was fun.
And yes, kids, I’m trying to reclaim my life, where I’m not Mr Mike.
Though it’s astonishing how many kids still greet me. “Accept that they knew you as Mike, and wondered where you were.” Her last revenge.
It was a subtle plan, far too subtle for a weasel. Children, it turns out, would be smarter than weasels if they hadn’t been taught as pre-schoolers. {Sniff}
I’m stuck with being the guy they wave to, though they’ve forgotten why.
God damn everyone who dangled hot dogs and a perspective on Roman history on 2nd graders! Who may have picked up on it!
My 1st century/2nd grade history was in less depth than these kids, and I’m holding back. And why was one of your search words Dionysus?
Okay, redirects are fun, and subtle redirects are more fun (we’ve got kids I don’t nearly take control of), but this is VBS, FFS. It’s not Mystery Religions, Syncretism, and Early ChristianIty for 2nd graders.
So she planted brainwashing clues in her Sunday School kiddos… [Mr Burns] Interesting [/MB]
Time to say goodnight Gracie.
I dunno if it is any consolation, but my grandmother basically sublimated all her needs and desires to take care of her sick husband for many years. She was afraid to lose him, she grieved when she lost him, and then she realized how much freedom she had. She sold the house, bought a new one closer to my Aunt, and now goes out dancing every night, does tai chi, takes up kickboxing lessons, occasionally gets laid and genuinely loves her life. Don’t be afraid to celebrate whatever new freedom you might find. It doesn’t make you bad, it makes you human. And the woman who fell in love with you in 1974 would want you to have that.
dropzone.
…drinkin? enjoy!!!.. and use us all you need…we are typically here all night.
I hope you find the peace you deserve…
tsfr
Er, ahem.
No, nodding affirmingly as I recall (censored) agreed (slightly) with what they were teaching somewhat more than toddlers. And holding back what I know (that is totally inappropriate ) for modern children. It’s a lot easier if the teacher next to me is wearing a full-length dress that follows everything. One must bear an ignorance. of what Mom’s wearing.