I am walking in the ghostly footprints of the past. I don't want to remember this day anymore. If I do I it's him that I think of and the hate that goes with it. I want to wash that off my hands.
I only want to remember your birthday. All the happy times. I look at your tree every day and see your smile. I will keep Tony going for you. He loves you too.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Two years...
It's count down time. We woke up to the doorbell sometime between 1am and 2am.... tonight, 2 years ago.
Two long, deliriously horrible years. I have learned lessons I never wanted to learn. Like how to breathe when your lungs have collapsed, how to smile when you want to scream, how to make your heart beat when your chest is an empty cavern. But most importantly how to keep loving the ones who are holding you up when you think your world has ended.
I realized awhile back that the reason I don't write much anymore is that I am escaping into myself or into work. I wrote every chance I could get that first year because that was my escape. Putting everything I felt on paper because I couldn't live with my feelings inside me. I wanted to rip myself apart so I ripped into writing down my fury. Now, I have found that I can control my grief by segmenting myself. I cry when no one is around at home, in bed while trying to go to sleep, in my car when driving, etc. If I'm around people and I feel like I'm losing it, I have to stop, doing breathing exercises or I will implode. Or should I say become a blubbering idiot.
I can look at pictures of Mary now, but not for too long. I don't like looking at her clothes because they are empty. Her favorite jacket hangs downstairs waiting for her to grab it and go outside. He hiking shorts are hanging beside them. I wear her hiking boots on cold days. Danny and I both wear the hats she crocheted. Julie carries one of the purses she made. I still have the one she was carrying that night, this night, two years ago.
I still have many unanswered questions of myself. Will I always be like I am today in 20 years? Hell, will I even be alive in 20 years. Maybe we'll be together by then. Who knows.
I used to think people who loved each other as much as we do in my family that we had a life force "connection". I may have said this in past months. I should have felt something when the crash happened. But even when Danny got sick those two times, I didn't know anything until I saw him.
I still don't want to remove the pain from my life lest I remove Mary's memories. The only way I can see myself not hurting anymore is to erase Mary and I can't do that. I have to keep figuring out ways to keep going while reducing the pain. Almost sound clinical, doesn't it.
Two long, deliriously horrible years. I have learned lessons I never wanted to learn. Like how to breathe when your lungs have collapsed, how to smile when you want to scream, how to make your heart beat when your chest is an empty cavern. But most importantly how to keep loving the ones who are holding you up when you think your world has ended.
I realized awhile back that the reason I don't write much anymore is that I am escaping into myself or into work. I wrote every chance I could get that first year because that was my escape. Putting everything I felt on paper because I couldn't live with my feelings inside me. I wanted to rip myself apart so I ripped into writing down my fury. Now, I have found that I can control my grief by segmenting myself. I cry when no one is around at home, in bed while trying to go to sleep, in my car when driving, etc. If I'm around people and I feel like I'm losing it, I have to stop, doing breathing exercises or I will implode. Or should I say become a blubbering idiot.
I can look at pictures of Mary now, but not for too long. I don't like looking at her clothes because they are empty. Her favorite jacket hangs downstairs waiting for her to grab it and go outside. He hiking shorts are hanging beside them. I wear her hiking boots on cold days. Danny and I both wear the hats she crocheted. Julie carries one of the purses she made. I still have the one she was carrying that night, this night, two years ago.
I still have many unanswered questions of myself. Will I always be like I am today in 20 years? Hell, will I even be alive in 20 years. Maybe we'll be together by then. Who knows.
I used to think people who loved each other as much as we do in my family that we had a life force "connection". I may have said this in past months. I should have felt something when the crash happened. But even when Danny got sick those two times, I didn't know anything until I saw him.
I still don't want to remove the pain from my life lest I remove Mary's memories. The only way I can see myself not hurting anymore is to erase Mary and I can't do that. I have to keep figuring out ways to keep going while reducing the pain. Almost sound clinical, doesn't it.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Permission vs What if?
I have not traveled anywhere in 6 years without Danny (and only once) since he's been on the list. He can only go as far as 2 hours will take him. So he usually only goes to Helen or Carol's. Maybe to Cherokee for a quick trip.
Now, I need to go to Canada for a business trip. Most places I've wanted to go related to work have been for conferences or seminars. Nice to go and learn more but I didn't want to leave and get "the call" and not be able to get home before Danny went in the operating room.
I want to go to Canada for the two days and my head tells me I should but my heart and my gut (yes, stomach aches) tell me "watch out - this could be it". Danny says go for it too. A friend of mine told me I need to give myself "permission" to go. My counselor has told me before I have to learn to give myself permission to be happy.
This is a VERY hard thing to do and I don't understand why my two sides are fighting each other. I want to be happy and enjoy life as Mary would. Most people think I am when they see me because they don't see me at night when I am alone. I had hoped after he was in prison I would get some kind of relief but not yet. I guess this is just something I'm going to have to work on day by day.
My sisters have been trying for years to get me to go visit them but I won't. Too far away. Again with the permission. We've been called at 1am and at 9am to go to Emory. It could happen at any moment. If I was a praying person then what I feel every second could be called praying for it to happen NOW. The plane trip is only 2 hours but they only fly between 6am and 6 pm. So I wouldn't be able to get home for those 12 hours.
What it actually boils down to is this - if something happened to Danny while he was getting his heart and I wasn't there I would never, could never forgive myself. I am terrified to leave him. His attitude is so positive he doesn't even voice what I am sure is in his heart (as it would be in mine). There's always what if.... but no one wants to say it or think it. He did say he was scared last time we were waiting but the vision of life with a new heart out weighted the what if's.
BUT.... I have to be there to keep watch when the doc's and nurses are busy.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? I will get my passport renewed anyway, just in case I can give myself permission. But that's a freakin' BIG word. PERMISSION
Now, I need to go to Canada for a business trip. Most places I've wanted to go related to work have been for conferences or seminars. Nice to go and learn more but I didn't want to leave and get "the call" and not be able to get home before Danny went in the operating room.
I want to go to Canada for the two days and my head tells me I should but my heart and my gut (yes, stomach aches) tell me "watch out - this could be it". Danny says go for it too. A friend of mine told me I need to give myself "permission" to go. My counselor has told me before I have to learn to give myself permission to be happy.
This is a VERY hard thing to do and I don't understand why my two sides are fighting each other. I want to be happy and enjoy life as Mary would. Most people think I am when they see me because they don't see me at night when I am alone. I had hoped after he was in prison I would get some kind of relief but not yet. I guess this is just something I'm going to have to work on day by day.
My sisters have been trying for years to get me to go visit them but I won't. Too far away. Again with the permission. We've been called at 1am and at 9am to go to Emory. It could happen at any moment. If I was a praying person then what I feel every second could be called praying for it to happen NOW. The plane trip is only 2 hours but they only fly between 6am and 6 pm. So I wouldn't be able to get home for those 12 hours.
What it actually boils down to is this - if something happened to Danny while he was getting his heart and I wasn't there I would never, could never forgive myself. I am terrified to leave him. His attitude is so positive he doesn't even voice what I am sure is in his heart (as it would be in mine). There's always what if.... but no one wants to say it or think it. He did say he was scared last time we were waiting but the vision of life with a new heart out weighted the what if's.
BUT.... I have to be there to keep watch when the doc's and nurses are busy.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? I will get my passport renewed anyway, just in case I can give myself permission. But that's a freakin' BIG word. PERMISSION
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
