A New Year

I had therapy with Kelli Wednesday, we talked about how hard the holidays were, DC and the upcoming NYE. I really thought the worst was over, I said. How do you feel about it not being 2009 anymore? she asked. Hadn't thought about THAT one. So it will be 2010. Not a year that Chris ever lived in, a year that I will be in alone without him. Surreal. I imagined it to be like a ship sailing away, the year 2009, that last year he was alive. As I write this I can't believe that it is still true. How can it be? And yet I get up every day, go to work every day, talk to and see friends every day. Fed the dog, water the plants, do laundry, grocery shop, eat drink, shower. I carry on. And yet how do I?It still feels like I am floating on the surface of life, getting the to do list done. But if I dive below the surface and am still and think about things, like 2009 not being the year anymore and Chris not being in it, the pain is still so real, my mind can't seem to wrap around the idea of it.
My plan for NYE (never a big deal) was to stay home and drink a few beers and go to bed. For some reason I changed my mind and Max and I went to see the new James Cameron movie "Avatar"...in 3D. I wanted to go for Chris, a huge James Cameron fan.
Max wanted to see it too. As we head to the movies the radio is playing softly, and we are just making small talk. Something searingly familiar hits my ears, what is that song? It hits me! It is Adam on the radio WDYWFM (What Do You Want From Me)! I can't believe it. I interrupt Max mid sentence and turn up the volume. It is true; he is on the radio! This is the first time I have heard Adam over the airways. I beep the horn with excitement (Max tells me to calm down).I note the time 6:18PM. Is this a gift from Chris, I go see Avatar, you can hear Adam on the radio? I have just gone from flat to 3 D!
As I sat in theater watching it I wondering, if he could see it because I was seeing it. Can I do things that he would want to do to make them possible for him. He so loved movies, (and he taught me to love them). There are so may movies he wanted to see, that he didn't live long enough to enjoy. This of course would have been the biggie. I was never a sci fi fan, but I enjoyed the movie, occasionally wiping back a tear or two at the thought that if he can't see the movie through my eyes then I am sad that he is missing it. All crazy delusions that I have some control or don't have control. I concentrate on the movie, it is easy to slip into the fantasy world of Pandora.I want to be a Navi, I want to leave this worlds and be part of Pandora.

Max enjoys the movie, everyone claps at the end (Chris LOVED when that happened).
Max is hungry so we go fro crappy Chinese food, I can barely eat, I try to get through the grease fest and the crowded loud restaurant, it s after 10 PM and the patrons are well on their way to ushering in NYE, Mai's Tai's are flowing, I want one, but am afraid to have one and drive home.

When we get home I flip through the TV channels but end up in bed well before midnight.
Happy New Year, Chris. I look forward to the next movie......

Sunday in DC

unlike yesterday's gloomy drizzle, today dawns bright, my mood is still left in the Saturday drizzle. Max slept late as usual and I didn't have the energy to get him up, where were we going to go today anyway? I am really not interested in the sights and sounds of our nation's capital and I sincerely do not have the energy to think of places to go.....Max said he is "just a go with the flow kinda of guy". unfortunately my only flow is the one that takes me back to bed. I don't want to be here but i don't want to be home. I want to be dead, yes really (and no I won' t do anything ) Anyway I am already dead.
We go to DuPont Circle as suggested by Wendy, Chris' sister. I really wish she was here to drag us around, I have to walk everywhere because my anxiety is through the roof and one look at the Metro deep dive escalator caused a panic attack, I had to tell Max what was going on....I think he thinks I am nuts.
So we cab to the circle which is very disappointing, or we didn't know where to look, two bookstores a bead shop and a P town type shop that sold rainbow Christmas trees? Where were the funky Tibetan stores or the ethnic stores? We left after an hour, lucky enough to find a cab back. And now we are in the room I could stay here til Tuesday, but It is rather nice out and this is costing me alot, maybe a walk in the sunshine will up my mood somehow.

Christmas Eve Christmas morning

Finally in bed, the tacky tree I pulled down from the attic (so as not to scar the boy) is glowing from the living room. I give in to it finally the heaving poor me sobs, Christmas alone with out my Chris. Coincidence the Christmas has his name in it? Or that every Christmas we had was because of him. If it was up to me I would ignore it all. But now i know what a truly fun,wonderful and loving day it can be. So glad I learned that lesson so it could be ripped from my heart leaving a gaping hole that oozes pain and and drips anger. Anger that I was given the gift and for only a short while. Why show the child all the gifts under the Christmas tree only to shove them back in the orphanage. How draconian. Sleep finally stops the descent into a Charles Dickens nightmare.

i awake early the next morning. I see the lobster boat in the harbor. just another December morning, nothing looks like Christmas out on the water. I am relieved.

Christmas Eve

Having successfully eluded the friends and family who are a part of my Italian traditional Christmas Eve fete, I call Lindsey to connect with her tonight as part of my safety plan with my therapist. Not being able to leave Christmas Eve night for DC made her nervous that I would be alone and depressed. Because it is so much easier/better to depressed with someone close by. I had told Lindsey all this and we had made a plan, that I would come over and give Jack his present (she had one for me to give , but I wanted to give him the chef set....these facts escaped her when I called. She and Kevin had a reservation at the Outback, wouldn't be home til late. So much for my safety net.....I was encouraged to join them and Max was enthused at the prospect of a large slab of cow so we went. I was feeling shaky so Max drove ( and we had to deliver the Fisherman/Santa to Lauren's house so we took his truck. I was quiet n the ride over. the restaurant was noisy and i was greeted by "V", Lindsey's friend and a former hairdresser of mine. Vanessa (V) is working at the Out Back tonight. She is over the top loud and bawdy in a cheerful and attractive way, she is hard to describe, part Dolly Parton (blonde and built) one part Kathy Griffin (wise cracking quick tongue) and one part sweetheart, that's her. She bring me a Bud Light and Max gets a Guinness.
We order, she takes Jack around the restaurant several times to buy Lindsey some time to eat (truly a full service waitress).
I get teary eyed a few times, and rest my head on Lindsey shoulder, I manage to hold it together, the Bud Light is helping......we finish our meals and I want to go but Lindsey ordered a Ginger Bread martini which we wanted to try, another distraction I am grateful for..... we sip it, it is weird I like the cookies that come with it better than the drink. I had brought Jack's gifts one of which he opened the rest i ave to Linds for Christmas morning. We hug in the parking lot, and head off in our different directions. I wonder if this will be my new tradition Christmas Eve at the Australian Outback. Christmas Eve down under. Christmas Eve down and under the radar.

Christmas Eve part 2- Santa Surprise

I had an idea to take the Fisherman statue that Laurie had given me and turn him into a Santa. I spent several nights painting his yellow slicker coat and hat red, layering the paint to get a good color. I also touched up his hat with red and white.
I was making this for my long time friend Lauren. Every year for many many years I had given her a Santa figurine, she collected them and I would go to great lengths to get them, usually buying them in the post Christmas sales for 50% off (they retail around 80 bucks). I hadn't given her a Santa in a long time and especially not a wood carved life sized one.
It is in Max's truck and we try to plan how we are going to get in her yard un spotted. I want this to be a surprise half the fun is Lauren's quandary of figuring out who sent it!
Lauren LOVES Christmas and I suspect has a house full which will either help by causing a distraction or hurt by adding eyes and ears to our covert operation.
We approach on side street, Lauren's House is dead ahead, and NO ONE IS HOME!
I can't believe our luck...... We place "Santa" by the door and scurry away. I wait for her to call but she never does. I facebook her son to put him on alert.
it is not until 2 days later she figures it out. i can't wait to see her to hear about her mental gymnastics to figure out where Santa came from!
This to me was what I think I would like Christmas Eve to be like.....pulling surprises bordering on pranks. Christmas Eve with a twist. Tim Burton may have to be called.

NIN

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UEW8riKU_tE

Am I Going too DeeP?

In bed, exhausted, shutters open out to the dark and white of the night the blackness of the sky against the white snow laden seascape. Black and White, like my thoughts, my life. I am either going to the mall with Max, having dinner, talking on the phone. From the outside it looks "normal" "ok" just an "average" life.
And then I stop, I go to bed, I rest my aching hips and it hits me......the reality of the loss, my loss, his loss, our loss. Are you as sick as reading this as I am of writing it? And yet I can't seem to get to that place where I remember being married to a wonderful man and am wistful, fondly thinking of him with a slightly crooked smile and perhaps one eye slightly brimmed with tears. The smile gets stronger and I have moved on.
I can't get there, I know what it looks like but I can't imagine ever actual implementation of that.
Instead I lie here staring out the window aching, missing, longing, yearning, thirsting, craving my husband.He is so larger than life by the vast hole he is left in my life, my heart and my mind.

Solstice Eve

Chris' birthday. Snowing, we have 12 inches already. I can' deal.I do quick chores all day (while looking for my lost checkbook) Check the files, rearrange the files, gather the etrade documents, I clean out a drawer, check bank balances (in case check book was stolen.) Check Etrade look for cost basis (whatever the fuck that is) banter with Bill in emails (Chef Bill, who is having a Hanukkah bash in Amherst), actually consider driving 2 hours to Amherst, talk to Chris' mom (neither of us can stay connected too long, too painful).
Finally, Finally I sit down to write. The ache in my heart becoming more painful with each key stroke. Unable to be ignored or chored away I have to face it. And yet I can't. It will be 9 months in a week, and I am still in a state of shock, I can't believe he is gone. I try to look at some pictures, I can't do it, he is mostly always smiling in the pictures (its what people being photographed do) and I want to smile back but my face cracks and the tears come down filling in the cracks with hot wetness.
I can't even do this, write, I start to feel anxiety and panic. No where to go nothing to do. Last time I took an Ativan I puked for 2 days, too afraid to do anything. I go to the couch and lie down.
I can't do this anymore, I just can't. I want to go outside and fall in a snowdrift and disappear. Maybe the plow guy will push me around and I won't be found until spring.

The eve of 12/20

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Was it the Christmas Specials?

Wednesday Night after an hour or two of channeling surfing the only thing on was "Christmas in Can" A Christmas Wish" " Christmas Wedding" "Christmas Vacation" (no I am not kidding), I felt awful, like I was going to have a heart attack. Just anxiety,I tried to convivnce myself so much so I actually took an Ativan......no relief. I thought about filling out the "do it yourself" will I had purchased a few weeks ago, but had no strength to even get up off the sofa. I figured I would either die on the sofa or wake up late for work....The pressure on my chest became so unbearable I thought about calling my neighbor to take me to the ER, but I hated the thought of waiting hours to be seen, plus I wouldn't get any sleep and then would have to call in sick to work (which I guess is worse than calling in dead).
After an hour or two of this it became painfully obvious as I rushed to the bathroom that I had some sort of stomach flu (WARNING GRAPHIC CONTENTS). I spewed out dinner (leftover PF Changs Chicken Dali---their spiciest dish which was as hot coming up as going down) I had the added pleasure of also having diarrhea, also known as the "coming out of both ends" disease. Before I lose you for good, suffice it to say this went on all night, almost every hour on the hour until dawn. Sometimes I made it to the bathroom and sometimes, well let's just say on day three I had 7 loads of laundry to do....you do the math.
I was ill for 22 hours (what else to do when you are flat on your back between bouts of kneeling to the porcelain goddess (ok sorry I promised) but watch the digital clock change numbers. I couldn't watch TV, read, or move. I barely had the strength to call in sick, or call my neighbor. Poor Kathy had to negotiate the floor and towels while delivering my requested Gatorade and Popsicles. I subsisted on them for two days. This is my first day up. My third day out of work. I also took (well my boss insisted) tomorrow off, a rare Saturday that I work.
I learned two things however (well maybe more)
1. Being sick as a widow sucks. I was totally on my own. I thought if I have a heart attack while puking my guts up, naked in the bathroom, it will be not unlike a scene from SAW.
2. Minions work even months after Chris died. I called Kathy, and Andrea and Bev. They all came bringing whatever I needed and not staying or in the case of a very pregnant Andrea, not even coming in.....( I insisted---early labor because of the "swine like but non H1N1 flu" was NOT an option).
Still alone sucks it makes me so sick I want to............

back to bed

I am in familiar territory and I don't like it.
Again I am staying in bed until the last minute before I need to leave to go anywhere. Pushing the envelope, coming home in between clients to climb into bed.
Exhausted, unending fatigue fills my body like thick corn syrup, invading my joints and making them ache and move painfully, causing me to move at a snail's pace. This is where I was in May, 7 months ago, a month after Chris died. Now it is a month after Jenn died, and I am back at square one. It seems to have dulled the fresh pain feeling and now I am numb again. I don't understand why at all, but I know all about this strange land of flat emotionless landscape. I barely notice the Christmas lights, as I drive, oh I see them, their laser beams seem to bounce off of me. Am I becoming too numb to life because of all the caner deaths? Or am I just adding an extra layer of protection I approach the Trinity of holidays-Chris' Birthday, Christmas and New Years that all occur within a ten day period? I haven't been numbing myself with the elixir (Bud Light) so maybe this is a natural substitute?
I know this place, I have been here and I didn't like it the first time. I want to feel the pain, hold it, know it. It is the only way I feel close to Chris. I feel the pain of his loss acutely, therefore he must have just been ripped from my life, my arms. Therefore he must be close by and there is chance I can feel him.
This is fucked up thinking. I know it but I embrace it.
I still can't shake that "he will be back" feeling. I don't dare touch his clothes or his desk files, I even mused that he would read all this someday. Or maybe he is reading it now. Not even mad that I have started to use his computer to do do my writing. It is the best of the 7 we have!
I can't believe I am even upright this morning. Aurora got me up at 5:30 and I stayed up thinking I might be able to write if I stay awake. I will pay for this later during my killer day of 12 clients, 12 home visits on what is supposed to be the most frigid day thus far. And it's not even winter yet.
But my heart is frozen solid.

Sorrowful Sunday

Horrible day today.....it started sunny and the day darkened and ended with a mighty rainstorm. Again the outside weather mirrors my inner weather. I was almost this side of half of ok this morning and now at 6 PM I am suicidal. I can't go on any longer I don't want to and I don't care. I am not acting on it, It is just a feeling but it is very strong.
I went to Kendra's ( friend's daughter ) birthday. I was an hour late because I really didn't want to go. The only thing that motivated is that I could probably have a beer with Shawn while I was there. I left the house at 1:45 for a 2 o clock party. And I had to go to the mall to get a present. I arrived at 3 bringing my next door neighbor's daughter with me. I honestly didn't think I could go by myself. As it was I cried when anyone asked me how I was doing. So labile....what is going on? This sucks. Please ground open up and swallow me whole. I came home after an hour exhausted and now and trying to hit on the right music to get me out of this funk. Nothing is working it is 6 PM I could just go to bed, but am not tired at all. I just want this to be over, but there really is no end in sight.

I can't remember Christmas

I worked a party with Chef Bill last night.....big house in Marblehead, very tastefully decorated for Christmas, pink roses stuck in pine boughs, small Christmas catus in siver tulip vases. Very elegant, very nice. The tree was was adorned with only glass ornaments, no garland and white lights. It was as if I decorated the house.
The party was huge and it was non stop. At the beginning of the party the patriarch of the house, was turning on music, small stereo somewhere. I marveled at how with all these decorations, catering, cases of wine he didn't have a whole house sound system or a vault. Made me miss/appreciate Chris.
I woke up this morning paying the price for being on my feet for 7 hours, hobbling around....Thinking back to the pretty MarbleHead house. I try to remember what Christmas was like last year. BIG MISTAKE.
I bring Chris' computer to life, and look for the back up picture albumns, I know they are all on the vault I just don't feel like going through all the turning on of the tv nonsense. And anyway I just want a quick peek (it's kinda like biting on a sore tooth, I know it is going to hurt, I just can't stop).
I click over to the picture file....there they are Christmas 2008. Is that right?
Just a year ago. Of course, Chris was the picture taker, so there are no pictures of him. But oh what is that? video? of what. Click takes me there. Chris is videoing the dog doing her mad Christmas paper war. She takes all the paper on the floor and pretends it is some fend-less prey and has at it. Chris loved that part of the day, his wild child acting the beast she can be.
I hear his voice..."What are you doing?", "get it get the paper".
I crumble, the tears come and I am helpless to stop it. That was a year ago? Really?
How can he be so present digitally, His voice sounds so wonderful, yet so so painful to hear. It almost hurts my head to hear it, but again I cannot stop. The videos are short, taken with the digital camera. There are about five. At one point I am on the phone and ask Chris a question. I hear the conversation, the back and forth. Oh My God I want that so much I just want to talk to him. Even if he can't be here physically I just need to to talk to him, to know he is here for me. The need is so real I feel it physically, It is an ache a longing, a pulling from my heart, a want, a crave, a need so real I feel it so present. The unmet need turns to pain. The pain is excruciating I am gulping air and trying to breathe as I type this. I feel like I am suffocating and I want to just give in and slump over. Stop breathing just end this fucking nightmare. Why ? What the hell is the meaning of all of this.
In the video Aurora helps Chris unwrap his unicycle. He wanted one, he asked for it in one of his infamous "this is what I want for Christmas and no I don't think it's tacky to be specific" list.
The unicycle represented hope for the Spring. He would get better, we would find a GIST toxic drug, finally and he would ride the unicycle as he had as child. The unicycle is downstairs in the box with dog teeth marks on it. He never opened the box or had the chance to ride it.
We never had a chance after the diagnosis. We were so stupid, chasing a cure, we should have chased a life.
I miss him so much it is so searingly painful, it hurts worse now than it did right after he died. The pain is fresh, made more so by the holidays and the death of his sister.
I have to get up I can't stand it anymore. I go to the kitchen where the files I have been working on or all over the place. I should clean up before the day is shot. I think about putting on some music and think Chris would have been playing Christmas music non stop as he did on every weekend in December.
I think I will work in silence, the only sounds coming from my sniffles and the icy wind outside. Maybe I can freeze my heart so it is hard like the ground and I won't have to feel this burning pain.

Lost Ring

I am coming home from the gym. I had stopped at the grocery store(can I ever go a day without a trip to my safe haven?). Driving home almost there. Listeneing to Music Again (again). I feel my hand on the steering wheel. My ring is gone. My wedding ring is gone. I panic, full blown panic. Can't breathe, what happened? Did it fall off in the gym? Where is it? Where? A miracle happens and I rmemeber after work and after group I had come home to go to the gym and reoved the mutiple bracelts and my Adam look a like ring) maybe I took it off along with Adam's scarab ring?. Whe I get home I dash upstairs and find it on my dresser. It is loose on my left hand but very tight on the right. I jam it on my right hand. I can't get it off if I tried. I feel relieved, but so spent emotioanlly. I have a couple of hours before I head over to the house in Marblehead where I am helping Chef Bill cater a Christmas party. I feel like a wet dish rag. I better rest before the party or my legs/hips won't hold up.
I vacate to back room and the sherpa. Click on the Tv and fall into a fog. The opposite of the 5 senses on fire in panic mode.
Breathe.

Widow's Holiday Gathering

lost car keys, lost christmas, lost life

I lost my car keys at work today. At Addison Gilbert, trying to get to Physical Yherapy after work, and need my gym clothes. I cannot find my keys anywhere, they aren't hooked on my bag or anywhere in the office. Becky (my intern) tries to help. We search the office, the parking lost, we call security, lost and found, Becky even looked in a Donut box nothing. I called Amy the nurse that shares my office, she didn't pick them up by mistake, but offers to drop everything (she has 3 kids and it is dinner time) to schlep me to Beverly and back to G town).I tell her I will call her back. I shoo Becky away admists protest, to go to Physical therapy, I would figure this out. After PT I come back to the office. Who to call, what to do? The obvious but oh so unavailable choice is Chris. The reality of having no one strikes again, complicated by the reality of being able to snap my fingers and have the minions all arrive. It's not the same as having the husband, lover, best friend to rescue me. And I need rescuing from this darkness. I WANT HIM BACK. I cry out in my office, no one hears (hopefully). I cry for a while. Then I start texting the minions let's see who answers first. Kayla the 17 year old who lives next door and is a " new driver" offers to fetch my spare keys and bring them to me. She heads over to my house to find the keys. Not sure which ones she sends me a picture of the one she thinks is right,I marvel at the technolgy and laugh a little at the picture of her chipped black fingernail poished hand holding the correct key. I gice the go ahead and she is on her way......I call Amy to tell her I am all set, she tells me that she lost her keys recently and that it drove her nuts.
(I lost my husband and am nuts.....). I love her though but I dismiss her all the same. I await the 17 year old, she is about all I am emotionally equipped to handle. She won't notice that I have been crying when she gets here.
Lindsey calls I tell her I am all set (2 out 5 minions responded withing 10 minutes, not bad) She wants to come I tell her Kayla is on the way.,....
I hang up I cry. Why? Everything is resolved. I am pathetic. I feel like a loser feeling sorry for myself.....but I can't stop.
Kayla arrives she calls me from the parking lot over by the emergency room, I go out with out a coat. The night is cold and dark and I feel so chilled to the bone. I can't take a winter in New Engl;and alone I can't. The winters here have always been so frightening to me. Where else could you die just by being outside? I hate the dark and the cold when it is out of doors. I seem to like it in my house though.....although there is no thermostat outside. I can inch the thermostat down each night, but I can always turn it up if I want. Something you can't do outside.
I grab the keys and Kayla wants to follow me home unsure of the way. I feel bad that she is frightened to get lost and is 17 and yet she drove 20 miles to rescue me.
I get in my car and drive over to her, beep and our wagon train is on the way. I am grateful to be alone in the car. I don't have Adam in the CD player, having taken him out to play in the office, I drive in silence, hearing "Fever" only in my head. I don't remember most of the drive, just conscious of driving slow, watching Kayla in the rear view mirror. Finally we get to the Beverly exit. Off the exit we pass the same houses I always pass, although with the passage of a few days, more and more of them have Christmas lights. My mind travels to a conversation I had with my son Max about Christmas presents. He asked me, since we are going to Washington as an escape/present if I wanted him to get me a present, I said no and that thought crosses my mind now. I think that there is no one that loves me to buy me the perfect Christmas present. I will never know that joy of opening Chris' gifts to me. I want no other presents,only his, so thoughtfully picked out, perfectly wrapped. He so loved Christmas, he made it all sunny and bright and fun. I never loved Christmas morning like I loved with him. Childhood Christmases with hungover parents could never match the special joy and fun we had. And now I will never ever have that again. The searing pain begins. Hot tears travel down my cold cheeks (I forgot to turn the heat on) I marvel that I can be so sorry for myself, so unlike me. I had an abusive childhood, but this is turning me into a a "poor me". and I can't help it, don't want to change it and am wallowing in it. Is this the anger I am supposed to feel?
Crying so hard now I have to pull over in front of Casa De Moda, a local popular gift store. I can't stop the tears. Hated Christmas and Chris opened the door to its wonderment and fun, a door that is now permanently shut. I wiill never have a Christmas again, no presents not tree. I want to go home and burn all the decorations up in the attic.
I limp home in the car and wonder why it is that I even continue on. This last week has done me in, why don't I just end it? Really, I am beyond full of grief, beyond full of pain. I want this over. My hip hurts, I can't even walk the dog or enjoy anything I want out and I want out now.
I get home I have all these bags from work, my purse, briefcase, lunch bag, I think I should clean up and get organized. Look around the rest of the house is pretty tidy. Could just kill my self now I think. What would be the difference. Just end it.
I decide to have a beer first. Then I remember: Adam: The View. I should watch.
I open a beer and settle on the sofa. I play the show. All the hoopla around his performace on the AMA's is discussed. He anwers perfectly, holding hois own admist the firestoprm that is Elizabwth Hassleback. He sings a song.He sounds great. I decide that after I will write/blog/ post whjatever. I open another beer. I am feeling calmer. I still want to die, I just don't want to DIY.

nothing

Just an ordiary night of Tv followed by going to bed alone. I can't beleive that he is gone, and yet it has been over 8 months

first snow.............

Andrea and Steve are leaving. I cooked them dinner from the cookbook Steve brought me when Chris was in the hospital. It was a wonderful gift, It is a huge cookbook very technical and way beyond my capabilities, I thought.
I cooked Steve and Andrea a dinner from that book tonight, tomato tart are and haricot verts salad, venison with braised shallots and pan seared butternut squash ho made coffee ice cream
It is an amazing feat, ands amazing feast. I cooked all day, I enjoyed that part although I was missing Chris terribly. He would be checking in and doing the "cleaning" of the house to prepare for outr guests. I didn't bother, the dog hair dust bunnies will be an uninvited guest.
Steve and Andrea seem to really enjoy the food, Ithought it alittle flat but when tasted all together some of the elements were ok. I wondered if Chris would have liked it....too many tomatoes, in the tar tare and in the tomato diamonds that were in the brunoise (braised shallots and leeks and carrots with a moulage of butter).
We watch the Bon Jovi special I had recorded for my sister in law. I think it is good, I don't know much about Bon Jovi but he seems really talented.
AS they leave it starts to snow, I start to panic. Not the first snow without Chris, I am not ready for this a new first. I am sad my heart is as heavy as the snow that is clinging to every branch and lateral surface it can find.
I shut off the lights, I try to blog, I can't I am crying. I don't want to be here alone in the dark, cold house with the snow outside. I imagine a real Nor'easter coming and what will that be like to be here by myself. Maybe it will be like the other night when there was so much wind and noise I stayed up almost all night.

12/5

December my sister turns 50, without any fan fare. She is not married to you

Speakers Widowhoodwalk day 247

I want to play some music but the speakers in the front room died a week ago they crackled and hummed and now are dead. The Jones' are coming over for a "Bon Jovi" dinner (we had planned to watch "the Circle" after dinner and my parties always have a theme, but what good is a theme without music? Maybe Steve can look at them when he comes over...... He is an EE like Chris. I have already tried plugging them in and re connecting all the wires, nothing works. I am crying upset. another wonderful given only to be snatched away. The gift of music, so precious so sweet I am so frustrated that I yell "Stop Fucking with me". To whom do not know...Chris? the devil? God???
I am mad at myself for not being able to fix these things.
I know Steve will at least try.
I go to turn the music on anyway, even if it is only in the back room. I walk to the back room and turn on the vault, the speakers respond! The music starts, not a crackle, a pop or a hiss. Another strange broken thing fixed. Is it Chris? I like to think so. He is energy and electricity is energy. Maybe he did something. now if he could defibrillatate my heart.

Body Of Christ widowhoodwalk day 245

When driving from Jenn's funeral to the reception, my mother in law shared that the priest who handed her the host, the body of Christ had just wiped his nose beforehand. Not wanting to risk H1N1 and given no choice to refuse as the priest walked over to the front pew and handed out the host to Daryyl and the kids (all Catholics) as well as my mother in law (unenrolled). She didn't know exactly what to do she said, she saw her grandchildren placing the wafer in their mouths, not wanting the germ laden albeit living bread, she tucked it in her purse.
I couldn't believe this as she was telling it....."where is it now?" barely able to contain my myself, images of my Baltimore Catholicism urban legends of hosts turning to blood, priests having to burn carpet when a host fell to the sacristy floor and my favorite a host caught in a chiffon scarf which also had to be burned as well as the neck of the now scarf less catholic lay woman washed with holy water. This was serious stuff. It frightened and fascinated me then, the echo of that still reverberates now.
And now here I am driving in car with the host in my mother in law's purse. I ask her for it thinking I can dispose of it in a way that will not get us all sent to hell. Despite having not practised my religion of my upbringing for quite sometime, I feel this is something I must do. It provides me with distraction We get to the hall and not only cannot I not find a priest but Donna can't find the host. Perhaps it has already turned to blood and sank to the bottom of her pocketbook. It bothers me still, but she doesn't want to look for it and I don't want to push it.

Jenn's funeral

Jennifer Wiswall Ware's funeral Mass was today. We met at the funeral home to gather for the million mile processional. Over 100 people were at the funeral home to process in their cars to the church. Jill is here and takes some medication for the church service (it is leftover anti anxiety medication from dentist appointment---the same dentist appointment she had the day she came to my house to see Chris.) I had gone to the airport with Wendy to pick up Doug, so I had the opportunity to finally ask her about the end of Jenn's life. I was curious about the process and if it was similar to Chris'. Wendy said that they knew Jenn was failing but the thought was to get her to the hospital to get her strength back (just like we went on Hospice to get Chris stronger so we could get to Florida). I was relieved somewhat and felt a little like this must be how it happens all the time, the family (I) doesn't know that the end is really near until the very very end. I hope Chris didn't know.

The ride to the church is very long, we are in the third ca I cannot believe how long the processional is. It seems like an endless flow of cars. When we get to the church and park there is an "honor guard" of students from Bishop Feenan where Jenn's eldest daughter attends. The high schoolers are out on the steps with no coats on, their uniforms crisp and green plaid.

We process into the church followed by Jenn in her Pink Casket(her favorite color).
The mass begins. Many people are softly crying throughout the service. I feel ok, sad but not on the verge of anything. Until at one point prior to the eulogies I notice many of my sisters (in law) crying and being held by their boyfriends or husbands. Every Wiswall has a shoulder to cry on, and I am sitting here between Jess and Wendy. The realization that I am alone and that I don't have Chris to comfort me hits me. It feels like a giant white freezing cold knife falls from the ceiling and goes right through me and slices my hear apart. The physical pain is real, it is sharp, cold, penetrating, excruciating. I breathe in the air feels cold. A sob so big and so loud comes bubbling up. I know that if I let it go I will cry so loudly that I will frighten everyone. I want to scream and cry and sob and wail and weep and thrash and yell and just turn myself inside out. The tears silent and safe stream down my face. They burn in sharp contrast to the cold hard pain of the knife in my heart. I am gasping trying to quell the large sobs, I don't want to scream, but I fear I cannot hold on any longer. The act of pushing air down makes me nauseous and I feel like I may throw up. I am panicky, frightened, cold and hysterical. I gasp rather loudly and finally cannot hold back the muffled sobs. My nose is running, my eyes burn I just want to die right here and now. I don't want to live one more second this is fucking unbearable. I try to will my heart to stop, it doesn't I let out another cry, not so loud that everyone looks except my pew mates. Doug, Wendy's boyfriend reaches across and rubs my back. It makes me feel better, but I still can't hang on.
I try some mantra's: Ohm mani pad hum ohm,Ohm mani pad hum ohm,Ohm mani pad hum ohm.
It doesn't work. I try to nostril breathe, still hysterical. Finally I see a green light way up high in the ceiling. It is blinking in some type of pattern. I concentrate on the blinking green. 12, 123, 123, 12 the pattern of the blinks. It reminds me of the Power Plant Tower lights outside my house. I used to watch them at night and follow their pattern. It was after my divorce during the "Bob" years (he died of pancreatic cancer). I was numb at the time and couldn't even manage to watch TV ( of course I didn't have a 65 inch high def to become addicted to).
SO I concentrate with all my might on the green light flashing away. The hysteria ratchets down a notch, Doug's hand slips away.
I calm down just in time to hear Darryl's eulogy, which makes me cry, but in a controlled sniffling into my tissue kind of way. I can't cry for Jenn the way I cried for myself minutes ago, or was I crying for Chris.....I glad he is not here to bury his sister, but I want him here for me. I don't want to be alone to handle this, I don't want my grief compounded, ripped open made raw and wet and bleeding again. I don't want to look in Darryl's eye and see the fear, hurt, sorrow and pain. I want to die, end it all. This is too much. I bury my face as I cry some more. When I lift my head up thinking that I can't suffer like this any more, I see the back of my mother in law, sitting up ahead of me. She has lost her husband, her son and now a daughter. How is she even standing? How is she even breathing. Oh sure she has more children left, but how is her hear beating? How can I complain compared to her sorrow?
Still the floor does not open up and take me away.
Finally after some incense some songs and a final prayer, we process out and make our way in the million mile car line to the cemetery. More prayers, but no hole in the ground. Thank God for that.

Awakening Part 2

At the funeral home. There are flowers everywhere. Donna tells me that Jenn hated flowers thought they were a waste (just like me!!) She would have hated all the flowers.
Jenn is in her coffin, no wig (another thing my mother in law thought Jenn wouldn't like. Darryl seems intent n having his wife buried bald. Not sure why am thinking it is something along the lines of "this is what cancer did to my wife" sentiment.
Oh well, I am sure where ever Jenn is she doesn't care about all this. I wish I could share the common belief that she is in heaven, or someplace with Chris but is just not there. Maybe I am a hard core Buddhist. Just nothingness......
I won't go near the casket, nt up to the kneel-er. I stand off to the side, it doesn't look like her at all, her skin is mottled like Chris legs were when he was alive, a sign of death coming I later learn. (are you all checking your legs now?)
The family lines up,I haven't resolved whether or not I want to be in line or not, no matter the Wiswalls insist and I stand next to Jess. And it begins.
We stood for 5 and half hours, the line stretched out the door, down through the parking lot, around the building around the corner and down the street. I twas incredible. Some folks stood in line for over 2 hours to pay their respects. The line never stopped moving I must have shook hundreds of hands an hour. Old jhands, arthritic hands (many of the those) rough hands, soft hands, gloved hands, scratchy hands, dirty hands, slippery hands, calloused hands, cracked hands, smelly hands, perfumed hands. I began focusing on the hands. So many people......many of whom sped through the line (after waiting for two hours I think they wanted to get out of there). The quickly shook hands saying "I am so sorry", "sorry for your loss" "condolences". I seemed endless. It was endless.Many people had not seen me since Chris died, and since I didn't participate in this ritual of saying good bye to a corpse I missed out on all this. And I am so glad. If anything it served to validate that I made the right decision. How is Darryl doing this? How can he possibly stand this, stand so close to his wife's dead body and not want to jump in with her? How can he stand next to his crying children and not want to destroy the parlor, break all the vases, ruip of the flowers. Must be on triple strength Ativan.

a WAKE ning

Tuesday, Jenn's wake is tonight and I am heading to Attleboro. Before I go i fill my tires with air they were incredibly low (and so am I).
I flip on my GPS and start the 75 minute journey to the land of cults and christmas shrines.
I am anxious about the drive, I haven't done this before. It's scary and yet i don't care anymore. So what if a BST (big scary truck) hits me and I careen off the highway? Sure would spare me the grief of the next couple of days.
I arrive and my mother in law and sister in law Wendy are completing a photo collage. there are of course pictures of Chris. I cry when I see them....It hurts that he is not here and yet why would I even want that? Why not spare him the pain of burying his sister. He looks so young and healthy in some of the picyures my heart,soul and physical body aches for him.....I just want to reach out to where ever he is and just touch him.....The ache is real and it hurts so so bad. I start to sob. Donna, my mother in law comes over to comfort me. If I can't have Chris Wiswall at least I can have Donna Wiswall. I can't believe she is comforting me. she not only has lost her husband but her only son and now her daughter. How he can even breathe is beyond me. I would have killed myself by now, even if I had other kids, they would have to understand.
I brought some stuff for lunch and it is a godd thing because when stressed I need to cook, and so i do. Some turkey meatballs with polenta. Donna and Wendy seemed to like it. I started to clean out Donna's fridge. She had a lot of moldy jars of tomato sauce and out of date food. I felt bad but what did I expect? Donna is in major grief mode and truth be tole her husband did all the cooking. And even though we just finished lunch I decide to make a snack before we leave for the wake in 3 hours (Hamburg sliders with some frozen hamburger and leftover Thanksgiving rolls).

We all change into our receiving line outfits, eat a slider or two and i drive to the funeral home. I have been here before....Mark Hall's parents? Darryl's mother?
It is an old funeral home we are there an hour early.

BLACK FRIDAY

The day after thanksgiving, the busiest shopping day of the year. I am still reeling from Jim's admission that the vault has been "edited". I get a feeling that I should call Donna, Chris' mom, I meant to call her yesterday, to wish her a Happy Thanksgiving. I never got to it, could have been the endless chopping, or the endless Bud Lights, I am not sure.
Anyway I leave the living roomn and limp up stairs to retrieve my phone, there is already a text message from Jenn "call me ASAP". Hmmmmm I know what it is, but I don't dare actually go there in my mind. I call her, Don't remember if we exchanged the usual pleasantries, I do remember her saying that Jenn had passed. The pain that coursed through my chest and heart was the same pain I felt on April 2nd. Was it a rebirth of my loss of Chris pain or pain for Jennifer, or both. All I know is that it hurt so bad that I let out a guttural scream/yelp/yell. It frightened my nephew. I flew to my brother's leather and cherry wooded office. His sancturay, now mine. I asked questions, I heard answers, I mostly heard my heart beating wildly in my chest. And I felt the scraping of the knives against my heart. Ouch ouch ouch, it hurt so much. I sobbed uncontrollably, I couldn't catch my breath, I couldn't breathe, the walls, painted a soft beige were closing in on me, the lovely painting that I had admired yesterday seemed to warp in and out. The lovely stems of grass waved out of the picture toward me. The lemony yellow of the sun in the picture, started to dim. The bile started to rise in my throat. I knew I was going to lose the Eggs Benedict I had prepared and eaten 20 minutes ago. Dizzy, nauseous, sick. I can't stay in the room, I can't leave. I am in Ohio, I want to run and leave .....run to where? This is awful the tears are awful, hot and the pain in my heart hurts so much.
Why? I knew this was coming but I can't stand this now. I ask about my mother in law, I want to talk to her but can't now because all she will hear is animal sounds coming out of my mouth. I hang up and drop the phone.
I run up stairs and throw myself on the bed....sobs wrack my body. I try to stifle my sobs. I don't want my brother and his family to hear me. Could they understand the whale like sounds that emanate from my gut?
I finally get it together and descend the immense stair case to the first floor.
Jenn died, I tell my brother. He sits in his leather chair, he responds in a sympathetic-light way. I want a hug. I want to collapse in someones arms. I want to scream and cry and writhe on the floor. But the kids are there and Joan is there and it is also surreal.. I want to be away away from Ohio, but there is no where else to go to escape this pain.
My brother asks me if I want to go look at tile, for his bathroom renovation. I say yeah, sure.

Vault interrupted

After much confusion over the songs that were missing from the Vault. Jim tells me that he didn't exactly copy all the songs from Chris' hard drives to the "New Vault".
I am horrified that #1. I have been lied to. and #2 that he would try to pass off a 2/3rds (actually less than half)of the vault by saying "I didn't need" all that music and that it would only slow the program down. Well, I asked "can't we but a faster processor"?. "No, he said, it's not about that" He told me he only picked the songs that he thought I knew....how little he knew about me and Chris,....... Scissor Sisters, Fat Boy Slim, Chumba Whummba? all lost!!! (not really lost just not copied)
Still I can't believe what I thought was a miracle makeover was just a facade.
How did such a wonderful gesture, a care taking thing turn into a horrible betrayal?

turkey trip

going to Ohio! In the airport, the flight has been delayed and returned t orginal time several times. The most enjoyable part of this is loong over (meaning we left Legal too too long ago) 15 minutes to board.

MUSIC AGAIN

Day 2 of the new Cd.
My favorite song (for now). It is a little Queen, alot of Darkness (if you don't them ---well then you aren't Nikki Shairs ....the only person...of the many, many I queried, who KNEW that the Darkness wrote this song the very first time she heard it---Nikki is Max's ex girlfriend, she is a music management major and a source of fun and entertainment for Chris.)
It has good energy and reminds me so much of Queen.

I want your body, mind, soul, et cetera
And one day you'll see, you should give it to me
And I don't want anyone instead of ya
Oh babe I'm goin crazy, come on and give it to me
And I ain't never met nobody better-er
You're someone else's baby

I'm so sick of living for other people
Took meeting you to realise
I don't wanna lose ya, I wanna keep ya

Put your little hand in mine and
Look into my eyes, baby eyes
Oh you make me wanna listen to music again
Yeah you make me wanna listen to music again

There had been many moons before I met ya
And I ain't going nowhere
And now you give me back my raison d'être
And I'm inspired again

And I know in some ways we're kinda evil
Got my roots and you've got ties
But my heart's no stranger to upheaval

Put your little hand in mine and
Look into my eyes, baby eyes
Oh you make me wanna listen to music again
Yeah you make me wanna listen to music again

Ahhh music again
Look in to my eyes, baby eyes
I just wanna listen to music again
Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah wooh oh hey!

I'm so sick of living for other people
Took meeting you to realize
I don't wanna lose ya, I wanna keep ya

Put your little hand in mine and
Look into my eyes baby eyes, whoa
Oh you make me wanna listen to music again, whoa
Yeah you make me wanna listen to music again, whoa
Oh you make me wanna listen to music again, whoa
Yeah you make me wanna listen to music again

Adam's new CD out today

I have the CD, overwhelmed, listened to it in fits and spurts. Couldn't manage to sit and listen to the whole thing. Fast forwarded through the songs that I had pre loaded (What Do You Want From Me, For Your Entertainment and Master Plan). Wanting to get to something new. Feeling frenetic, can't listen to it fast enough, this is what heroin addicts must feel like they can't get the drug in their veins fast enough.
I feel that it has come at the perfect time though, I am suffering, I am hurting, I cry all the time especially; in the car. The Idol CD, played everyday, is still an anchor..... I yearn for something new. Something to get me through the holidays and out of this darkness. I still need a whole lotta love to get to feeling good 'cause everything is so black and white and if I can't have you, everything is a Mad World and all I see is the tracks of my tears.
Yeah, so I am too frantic comment on any songs right now.....just loving the touch of someone new (it's one of his songs---you hear about it later)

Explosion

Sunday.................water the plants, put laundry out (it is amazing how little I have) I notice the grill outside. Chris never liked to leave things out for the winter...I should bring it in. I disconnect the propane (for the first time, it is not so hard) and carry (ouch that hurts my hip) the bottom half of the grill in. I turn to get the tank (where does one store a tank full of propane??) and the lid. On the deck, I turn, I see the handmade corner shelves that Chris made for me to keep my sauces and tools handy when I was barbequing. I gulp, there is a familiar lump in my throat that seems to get a little smaller by the time the tears flow down my cheeks. I want my husband...... I WANT MY HUSBAND! Why isn't here? Why can't he be here? Why do I have to do all this alone? And why am I even bothering? Wouldn't it be easier to just drop the prpane down the stairs? Let the explosion and speactularly finalizing fire happen?
I haven't filled out the LW&T yet, but does it matter? I just want this to be over. Somone make it over. I don't want any of this.......the birthday party for Mac last night that I went to out of sheer obligation, a bunch of Christians, no one I really wanted to be with except for Neal ( he so reminds me of Chris it makes my heart hurt) He gave me a couple of hugs and I thought I would pass out from releif of feeling what it is like to be hugged by a tall geek. I wanted more hugs to take home for me in an emergency....like NOW.

DC---DECODED

My friend Lauren came over in a reversal of fortune. For years I have been going to her house early bringing DD coffee, we would have a chat fest and reconnect. Time between coffee klatchs lengtyhend as our lives changes and since Chris died. With my work schedule and my grief schedule I haven't been able to get there, although we keep in touch by email and face book it is never the same.
I had recently supported one of her boys endless fundraisers, buying some Christmas gift certificates, the logistics of paying and receiving the same finally came to head, I could do coffee one morning, she could]'t, I tried to stop over one Friday night she was out of town.
FINALLY it cam together and she came over the house after spinning. I had a bottle of red wine ready next to my ever present BL. We talked and caught up. Her son (my new dog sitter for thanksgiving) came over for some final instructions and saw my take one CD which I loaned him to listen to....
As the vening winded down and we became more reflective, Lauren asked me about Christmas. I told her I am going to Washington DC. I explained that I Had wanted to go to the Caribbean for Christmas to go to a place where there were no trees no lights and no stupid Christmas songs like the the ones playing In the Hallmark store.
She smiled little. I told her about looking for flights leaving Logan after 7 PM on Christmas Eve the earliest I could get away,, seeing D as an option, thinking about Max's love of history and all the museums there. It was a win win. I was thinking DC government buidlkings, all federal and gray no green red or white lights..... I reminded her how I hated Christmas and how Chris was always the one who gave me such a wonderful Christmas, always surprising me with the perfect gift. Al sways making each Christmas the best ever. I still never looked froward to Christmas, but he always made each and every Christmas exceed my expectations BIG TIME.0.
She remenered that Chris sister lived there, she asked "doesn't Chris have a relative there?"
I answered "Funny you should ask that, Chris mom mentioned to his sister Endy tha tI would ber there.
Long story short, for the first time in 8 years Wendy will be in Washington for Christmas and she emailed me inviting me to Doug (her boyfriend's) for Christmas dinner, even offering too pick us up at the airport and drive us to our hotel for check in before taking us to Doug's for dinner.
Lauren thought and shared that THIS was my Christmas present from Chris! He guided the reservation to Washington, he knew that Christmas would be every where....Lauren reminded me incredulously asking me "haven't you ever seen the lighting of the national Christmas tree?" It is on national TV!

Traffic Jam Slam

Stuck on Route 22 with the commuter rail traffic back up. Nothing moving I am at a dead stop. I notice a landscaping truck, a red off road Ranger type, not unlike Max's, these red ford trucks always seem to catch my eye since Max got his. A man jumps out of the truck and into the bed. He is about my age very physically fit. He is bending over into a large tool box retrieving several large chain saws. At first I am fascinated my his movements, wondering if he has hip pain, like my ever present throbbing in my left hip. I imagine the bones inside of him as he bends, lifts and turns. It looks like his hips are working perfectly beneath his crisp khaki pants. I can make out the edge of his underwear, he must wear tighty whities not unlike Chris wore.....and down the slippery slope I go. My thought was that I will never have a man's butt to stare at that also belongs to me. I can look at Mr. Landscaper's ass but I can't touch, the only butt I can touch is gone. Even as I am thinking this I realize that it is bizarre, yet I can't stop staring, mostly at the underwear line. I still have all of Chris clothes (whities included) but they are empty, the shirts the jeans all flat, not filled with him. And yet I hang on to them.
The landscaper moves three chain saws to the back of the truck.He has a navy blue sweat shirt on, his hands look strong, I can see the roughness in the early morning light....even through my tear filled eyes. A horn beeps, the line is moving, I don't want to leave my spot, but I reluctantly inch ahead.
Crying the rest of the way to work for what I lost and what I will never have again.

PS Kevin Knox died

Lindsey just called. She wanted to tell me some bad news....Kevin died. (Kevin was a favorite comedian of both Chris and I). I immediately felt relief. Kevin went to Hippocrates, the center in Florida where we were going for the miracle cure. He beat Multiple myeloma, he was given 6 months and lasted 6 years. Chris was given 5 years and lasted 4 years and 11 months and 11 days.
So maybe not going to Florida was the right thing. The folks at Dana Farber thought it would have been a disaster, maybe they were right.
I remember Amy telling me that If I took Chris to Florida I would be bringing Chris back in a hearse. Maybe she knew..... I ran across an email I wrote to her on April 1st. I told her Hospice had shared with me that you had a week left you died the next day.
not funny.

Sitting on the dock of the bay...............

hi Sweetheart,
Just sitting at your desk, waiting for Jim to call me, he had to rebuild the vault. Or do you know that? Something happened. It wouldn't turn on, or it was turning on but not being recognized....I tried to fix it myself....really, hooked up not one but 2 monitors (one "borrowed" from work). The lights were on but no one was home.....kinda like me, the eyes are open but there's no life.....sorry I digress.
Anyway if you don't know this pains me to tell you that with the help of a web cam I dissected the vault, that's tight cover off, and hard drives out. It was quite comical for me, horrifying for you I am sure.
I packed them up and mailed them to ....you guessed it Jim. And he built me a new one, copied every song all 72,000 some, all the pictures onto a terabyte, put it in a mac daddy case, kind of like the one you built for Max with the clear sides and the glowing lights, only this one is blue, Max's was green. He mailed it back. It is Windows Media Center Driven, no Music Match, no Juke box. I am 100% certain if you were here you would be steamed. Wrong drivers, wrong program, wrong search engine (I might agree because I can't find the scissor sisters).
But then you weren't here to help me were you? I tried, I googled and did all those little computer tricks you taught me, nothing worked. Should I have let it die?
Asked Steve Jones or Mike to help? or done what would get it done in a week?
I chose a week. It's killer I think I like it being on the TV.....
What I don't like is that it is yet another subtle change, another layer of the onion that is peeled away, I just lost another part of you. Yeah the vault was a pain in the ass, yes it took me a gruelling 3 hours to learn how to play one song....but it was your baby. So much of your life was poured into it, and for what really? Because you loved it I guess. And because you loved me.
I miss you so much, someone to rely on to ask these questions of, to reassure me that I am making the right (even if small) decision. Why can't you be here. I know why, but it still feels like you maybe back, that's why I am so afraid to touch anything of yours......when will that stop? Never I hope.
I am having dinner tomorrow with Janet, I like that she keeps in touch, and feel like I am a bitch for not being nicer and getting back to her and other peole sooner, but I guess I am doing the best I can. I like that some people don't give up on me and still want to see me. Other peole don't and I just let them go.....like Linda, she came over Saturday ( a week ago) haven't seen her since July and we used to be so close. I felt like she was observing me, like she wanted to see if I had cracked yet or not. I rewarded her by crying in fromn of her when she asked about how was doing.

Wallowing at Walgreens

I had a meeting at Beverly Gold and Tennis about some fundraiser I am apparently in charge of......Also there was my Financial planner, Donna and Andrea.
Donna is a tall slender and obviously physically fit, impeccably dressed woman. I like her but am always nervous about someone handling Chris' money. When she came into the meeting I was stunned at how great she looked, so put together, next to my schulumpy "I didn't feel like showering look". "Hi Slick" I said (where did that come form, is she slick cause she looks cool, or slick because I think she is tailing my money?). "Oh it's Slick now?" she retorted". I was embarrassed and didn't answer. The meeting didn't last long, and we left in our separate cars in the quickening darkness. Donna drives a BMW convertible, very tight, very expensive, very nice car.
I was behind her in the Golf club drive way I am looking at the back of her car, her taillights glowing red like angry devil eyes. "that's the woman that has all of Chris' money I thought". A giant lump exploded in my throat, then the tears.....crying silently, trying to drive through the rain storm of salt water, no windshield wiper for this deluge.
I make it to the main road, still crying, stopped at a red light, then another, just keeping it together long enough in between stop lights. Finally I can't continue driving I pull into Walgreens, park near the door and let loose, sobbing sobbing ....is this the anger I am supposed to feel? I can't pinpoint what is is I feel, besides a deep sadness and sense of loss. I cry for about 20 minutes hoping no one is looking at me and calls the police. I want to go home, but Mac might still be there and I can't talk to anyone right now, no where to go AGAIN. THIS SUCKS.
Chris left and took all my sense of safety, belonging and comfort. I feel cold, wet and shaky. I want to go home and take every Oxy he left, cover myself with Fentyl patches, drink whatever alcohol I can find and end this. It hurts so bad.....
I won't of course. Max is coming home Friday, he doesn't need this. God help us all if anything happens to him.

Therapy Hour of Power

Met with Stephanie. Felt like Ic ould feel more, much better than the Celexa days. Actually teared up. We talked about my plans for the holidays and the hell it already has put me through.....I was sharing my pain and sadness (not depression). we were trying to formulate a plan for the holidays....what is going to get me through it all.
Going away-----Check DC tripped booked
Canceling Christmas-----have told all my friends NO PRESENTS
Not decorating------Max knows and is OK with it (although I will hear about it later in his life no doubt)
What else to insure my sanity and ensure that I don't off myself.....
Luckily exactly 30 days before Christmas Adam's album drops. I will spend the whole ramp up phase of holidays enveloping myself in the songs, learning their every nuance and watchng the ascent on the pop charts. Is it coincidence...the timing of this right before thanksgiving? A mere month before Christmas? Is it serendipitous that the CD will be out just when I needed it most. Or is further evidence that I do indeed have a dark angel watching over me?
I have already downloaded three songs and they are helping me hang on for the next six days before the debut.

Saturday night fright

Watched the must see "Family Man" last night. Not so much for the
black underware scene as for Nicholas Cage. Chris always reminded me
of Nicholas Cage (this was also confirmed by a few friends of mine)
Maybe it was the height or the skinny legs in black pants with black
boots. At any rate even though it would make for a late night I
decided to watch the whole thing, even though I knew the ending and
much of the dialogue by heart.
So may things in the movie reminded of Chris, as if I was seeing it
for the first time. the way he tells Kate his wife how beautiful she
is, despite being together for 13 years. Chris always remarked how
"youthful and beautiful" I was never seeming to change even after 12
years). The way he kisses her, hard and hungrily on the lips. The
clothes he wears as both the husband/father and the wall street
company president. All remeinded me of Chris, jeans to work, dressing up when he needed too....looking fantastic.
The ending left me in a tsunami of tears, Nicholas is at the airport and she
is leaving for Paris. He stops her at the gate, telling her "we have 2
kids", "we have a house in Jersey", " we have a life";he finally
convinces her to delay her flight for a cup of coffee.
It was as if I was going back in time....and although Chris didn't say
all those things the intent was there. I was a alone; before he met
me. He offered me all those things nad more, he made my house a home
(not in Jersey although Beverly is Jersey to Salem's Manhattan). We
had two children, although they both died before they were born, one
at 5 moths and one at 9 weeks. I had a life with Chris, not unlike the
one Nick and Tea, Jack and Kate did (Jack was going to be our son's
name).
Oh I had a life....... now everyone in it is dead, except me

What happens when you take the Chris out of Christmas?

It's just a mess..............

Driving home, it's not even thanksgiving......and someone on Lothrop Street has their Christmas lights out and on.....Red, green and white mini twinkle lights wrapped in an zig zag pattern on their deck. Oh no, I think, then my eyes well up, and I start to cry silently in the car...Christmas without Chris, I knew it was coming, but now it's here, at least at 101 Lothrop Street anyway. Why? I am trying to avoid this, even booked the DC trip today, although I had to leave Christmas day which means waking up in my empty bed on Christmas morning, oh is that going to suck.
I always HATED Christmas. Maybe it was the drunken mother pulling down the Christmas tree one year, or the fighting and arguing and the inevitable increase in the violence, always a holiday tradition. Maybe it is just the commercialism or that I stink at present buying.
Or maybe my expectations were always too high.
Until I met Mr. CHRIStmas, himself. The man whose birthday (not his fault he would say) was 5 days before Christmas. He was sensitive about not having his birthday presents wrapped in Christmas paper. I knew about this since my sister's birthday was in December, oh I knew his pain and I obliged.
HE reciprocated by making everyone of our 12 Christmases together as magical as the sugar plum fairy and the ghost of Christmas future combined, It was as if could read my mind and pick presents that I sweetly desired or wanted but didn't know they existed.
Everything from trimming the tree with the music blaring to hanging the Santa that spun around the room. He loved it all, his Rudolph "set" "Eat papa eat". The light displays outside that would change every year, the trips to the Christmas eve store, the late nights at the mall, hiding the presents at work, the master of magic.
He made up for every bad childhood Christmas I ever had and then some.
My heart is shredding as I write this, the pain so bright and new, just like a shiny Christmas ball dangling from a pre lit tree.
I feel like the Grinch that has to find a way to cancel all this Christmas mess.....Good Grief I only saw one string of lights and I am as wet as melted snow ball.
It is only going to get worse.
Maybe I should have gone to Israel instead of DC.

Friday November 6th, No place Like Home

Driving home from work, I had all intentions to go to the gym, but I left work late and lost my umph. At first as I made my way south tonight on the dark stretch of 128 all I wanted was to get home. The gym seemed like an unnecessary detour to my destination.It was sharply frigid this evening when I finally left the hospital and walked through the surprisingly black parking lot, feeling a little unnerved, slightly unsafe.
Home I thought would be my safe haven. As I got off the highway I drove by Andrea's house surprisingly dark at 5:30, I imagined them at Acapulco's a place we occasionally would bump into them by surprise or design on a Friday night, my emotional hiccup at the thought of a Friday night with Chris set in motion, a dread of going home to my cold empty and dark house. All of a sudden it was the last place I wanted to be. the the tears started, I have no place to go....I couldn't muster the strength for the gym now I was weeping and soggy, I can't go home, can't face the void left by my husband's death.....what can I do? I have to make the Russian Salad for a birthday party I agreed to attend.....I can't drive around all night....should I go t Salem and walk around? I have no coat, and it is so cold out, should I go sit by the ocean? I drive around aimlessly, feeling bereft, homeless, and as if there is no place that I belong.

roasted chicken with cider reduction over garlic smashed potatoes

Made dinner for myself, from scratch for the first time since......well for the first time. Trying to nurture myself and allow Chris' creation (the kitchen) to embrace me. It was tasty he would have loved it, the perfect combination of sweet and savory. I eat alone, I load the dishwasher alone, I clean up alone,I load the dishtowels into the laundry alone. I wander around the house, is this it? Just me here? I can't believe it, I really can't. I must have seen it coming for the past five years, but I am still unprepared, I am still in shock 7 months and one day later I still want him here and a BIG part of me cannot take it in, cannot accept that it will never be. I feel expectant, holding my breath for the moment when this is all over and the "ruse" will be broken. It feels so new, I had these feelings right after he died, and they really haven't left. I can't stand it. But I can't change it.

therapy hour

I trudge home for lunch after 3 home visit appointments. I barely had the energy to drive to the client's house exit the car and enter their house. I ask my self how can I can continue to keep this up it is so exhausting........ I make it home for luncht 1 PM, I didn't feel like eating or fixing anything, so low energy.I climb into bed......the house is cool and I want to get warm and really don't have energy for much else.... I have to leave at 1:45 to make the 2 o'clock appointment at Hospice. I watch red numbers change on the digital alarm clock, wondering if I can still call to cancel, I am tired of this grief work and all these therapy appointments and all the grief books and writing and thinking and mediating and crying or trying to cry while on an antidepressant....this is like a part time job!!
And I don't need more work hours I need more free time. What would I do with the free hour, probably just lay here, surf the net or the TV. Might as well go, it's only 70 bucks, add that to the $25.00 co pay for the psycho-pharmocologist this morning and I am already in debt for today. I spent more than I earned and can barely get through the day. I mind wrestle with myself, go not go. Finally at the 11th hour, I get up to leave, it is 1:51.
I make it on time, Kelli is running a little late. I sit by the gas lit fireplace, still trying to get warmed up.
Kelli comes and gets me.
We start. I talk about the fatigue and feeling so very tired of all the work that this is, I well up but can't cry. I tell her about Provincetown. I tell her I am tired of reading grief books and that the one I just finished was terrible. I described one of the exercise where you take all of your loved ones clothes and sort them into three piles, 1. must keep, 2. undecided, and 3. toss. I told Kelli that I really not ready to do this. We talked about where I am in the grief journey and although I am tired of all the work I have not traveled far enough down the road to be at the place where I toss Chris clothes. " What does it mean to hang on to them?" Well, I have the feeling that Chris will come back and be upset that I tossed them. "Will he be upset because you didn't believe that he was dead"? "I am not sure.....It's just a feeling that I have about his stuff, and not touching it or disturbing it, a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that he will somehow reappear. It's stupid, he was cremated, he has no body to wear the clothes with, and yet I feel like somehow he will be back". "If you threw the clothes away why would he be mad?" I don't know I just know the clothes need to be there
"You have said that you think Chris is in Nirvana, can Nirvana be a place where Chris can still reach out to you?" I am not sure I will have to think about this maybe read about it or talk to someone. All I know is that it is hard for me to receive "signs". I saw a rainbow in Ptown on November1st, I wanted it to be a sign....but have a hard time believing it. I saw a car the same make and model as Chris and the licence plate was "Ruse". Another sign?
I don't want to be like some of my friends....a good parking place at the mall, a sign from Chris, extra change from the grocery store clerk, a sign from Chris, the weather man is wrong and the day is gorgeous, a sign from Chris. The signs can't be that commonplace! Kelli observes that I have to have parameters around the signs but even when I see them I have a hard time accepting them. I need proof I say. Kelli shares that in order to accept the signs I may have to suspend my logical brain for a moment and open my heart to the signs. If I don't I am missing opportunities for comfort and solace. I will try to be more open I promise, I feel that Chris mind was so amazing that if he could send a sign he would, we never talked about it, although my friend Bob and I talked about it and I see the signs we had talked about all the time, a black crow in the road street lights turning off. I feel confident that it is Bob staying in touch, why can't I feel the same about Chris? Because we never discussed it in detail?
I still struggle with the whole thing, how such a wonderful fully evolved, enlightened perfect person could have been taken at age 50, I sob that he won't live to be old and that i won't get to know him later in life. It's not fair that he was taken from so many people that loved and admired him. What was the purpose of his life then, why only 50 years, only 12 with me?
"What do you think his purpose was"? This is such a hard question.......He came into my life when I was having a hard time being a good parent to Max. Chris taught me how to be a better mom, how not to get so stressed out and not be so hard on Max about trivial things like his sloppy room. He showed me what was important in life, and what was worth letting go. He was always trying to get me to slow down. He made me a better person and a better mother using the 80/20 rule. ( accept that 80% of what you get is ok, let go of the 20% you didn't get).
He also single handedly remodeled my disaster of a house, every room was changed, every window and door was installed by him. And of course his masterpiece the kitchen. How ironic I mused to Kelli, that I now have the kitchen of my dreams and no one to cook for, just like that Christmas story "the Gift" where the wife sells her hair to buy a watch chain for her husband's watch, and he sells his watch to buy her combs for her hair.
Kelli tells me that sometimes our homes are metaphors for our soul, and that Chris changed both my internal world and my external world. The house and the kitchen are reminders of that. That in fact I am wrapped up in his handiwork every time I am home and it is his way of holding me now, he left it to hold and nurture me.
It is apart of our new relationship that we are forging....

a rainbow for rainbow town

Walking the dog, the first day of the Wiccan New Year. November 1st. Walking Commercial Street, the day is warm the sun is up, it is early the first day on non daylight saving time. The light drenches the sidewalk and closed shops, bathing everything in a yellow glow, so dramatic against the dark grey skies leftover form the evening storm. Walking down toward the center of town, not another soul in sight, must be the time change.Aurora pulls me down an alley right by Ptown Pulp......to poop. She does her thing, I look up and behind this huge house is a crystal clear rainbow, even more vivid against the steel grey skies. I stop in my tracks....is this a sign? I want it to be I am just not sure.....how can I be sure, I so want some kind of connection.

Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high. There's a land that I heard of Once in a lullaby.Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue. And the dreams that you dare to dream Really do come true.Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far Behind me.Where troubles melt like lemon drops, Away above the chimney tops.That's where you'll find me.Somewhere, over the rainbow, bluebirds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow,Why then - oh, why can't I?If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow,Why, oh, why can't I?

Halloween Afternoon

Walking with Lynne, I point to the spot where I told her I thought I heard Chris this morning.
Funny you should say that, she said with a grin. When I think of the times Chris and I came to ptown together, this is the spot that I always picture, we stopped here and looked at the water every time.

All Hallows Ever

Up early to walk Aurora. It is unseasonably warm, the sun is barely up and through the thick gray clouds. I walk toward Sparks wanting to see if it is open for the weekend. So many places have already closed up for the season. It is strange to see some places closed. And some so open.
I walk to shop Therapy and am not sure where Sparks is.....I can't remember where it could be.....further or did I pass it already? I check the address on my Blackberry and walk past Shop Therapy. I see Sparks finally looks like they will open this morning at 11. I rest on the stone wall near Sparks, a place Chris had often sat waiting for me as I engaged in my yearly hunt for the ultimate glass earring. I look out at the water across the street. It glistens from the shafts of golden sunlight that are escaping the cracks in the clouds. I look out at the water.....I hear Chris in my head...I am here,
Why can't I take you back? Why do I have to drive three hours to see you/hear you?
You don't but if you take me back I will be in you.......I am not sure what he means by that.....I am still ....waiting for anything else that might come along, nothing does.
I say Gail says hi
Tell her I love her.
What does that mean???????
After awhile when it is clear the communication has stopped inasmuch the same way the shafts of light have receded and are behind the clouds, I begin the walk back to the Inn.

samhain 7 :39

took a walk with Aurora, where are you? I can't feel you? is this futile?
Up and down Commercial street looking for Sparks, stopped to check address on the Black berry....feeling hopeless is this worthwhile?
Walking toward Sparks why aren't you here? I am
he said in my head. Sit on the wall near Sparks
Do I always have to come here to hear you? Yes Why?
because you don't take me back with you.....looking out at the water the clouds break, the sun shines through.......Gail says hi
tell her I love her........
take me back with you create this in you, and I will be in you.

Samhain in P town

I am here! Desperately hoping for a connection. Went to Racepoint yesterday to get rocks and sand.....didn't even hear a whisper. Maybe because I was too task orientated. I was distracted and unable to get a quiet moment on the beach. The beach was beautufl, the air was warm, it could have been perfect.
Went to dinner at the MEWS, walked around town, trying hard too feel something, anything. It is all so gloriously familiar and framed in the golden autumn sun. The only thing missing is Chris.

October

A magical month that holds little magic anymore, I decide to leave for Samhain, can't be in Salem, too many memories. My heart is heavy most of the time, still my hopes for a quiet month in September bled into October, I lie to my friends tell them I am busy, have company coming or that I am at work to keep them away. I come home every night to the couch and the tv. I don't have the searing pain, just a crushing feeling in my chest and a dull pressure everywhere else.
I am .....what? sad? depressed? no just numb.........the tears usually at the edge of my bottom lashes are dried up, they have vanished instead of spilling down my face. Now there is nothing...I think of Chris and I am overwhelmed with the enormity of the loss, and yet the emotions are gone. Is it the the anti anxiety medication? Is it the unrelenting pain in my legs ? the pain that radiates down my leg replacing the daily shredding of my heart that begins anew with each morning awakening to a dark cold and empty house. the bleak dark mornings, the endless night mirror the inside of my soul. Dark more than light, cold more than warm, Welcome Autumn.

my hips don't lie

So in a week I will see if I need surgery, and if I do I will be on my own. No one to be at my side like Iwas for Chris. No one to help me out of bed or up and down the stairs.
I have put this off for so long I probably did my self no good. Chris knew I was in trouble and used to give me articles about hip re surfacing, and arthroscopic surgery. I was too busy then to take care of it. Wasn't it enough to be going to Dana Farber for Cat Scans and infusions and the Brigham for surgery? The intrusion of the medical world into our private life was on overdrive, not much left for me. I hate doctors anyway (ironic that I work in hospital, yes?)
I especially hate orthopedic surgeons, they are pompous arrogant SOB's. ......except for a certain somone with egyptian cotton sheets.......... I will not have an MRI with out Chris and can't believe I will face major surgery on my own.......
this is my lot in life I guess. A solitary, a singleton alone to crawl around .....

Saw thurdsay

Just set up to record all the Saws!!!!!!!!!!
so excited. no good Horror on tonight.
Started the Lexapro today
SAw th MD need a hip replacement.

horror

I have a new hobby. Watching horror films. I average 2 a night. I am not sure why. It started with Saw 4 on Saturday night, 10/10. Not Friday the the thirteenth Saturday the 10th.
I saw that Saw was on, I think why not? It is like Dexter on acid. He only kills the bad guys, and his machinations are intense. Something Chris would have been able to build.
The gore doesn't bother me, nor am I scared. Do I feel like I am closer to death ( and Chris this way?) Am I pushing the envelope? Am I trying to trigger myself?
Not sure. Just know that I am really enjoying the horror fest courtesy of Comcast

Celexa Hell

Saturday October 17
In group, I can hardly contain my crazy thoughts.... ..Everyone is talking....I can't concentrate, I am looking out the window.....looking every where. My therapist has lost weight, her thinness is triggering me....she looks like she has cancer, it bothers me I don't want to say it out loud, I can't I am so distracted....am I suicidal...?I think I am but Max is coming home, I have to get through the birthday dinner and everything, I honestly don't think I can, I have to be sober he is drinking I .....am driving.....the thoughts I am thinking .......about taking all my ativan, but no wait I haven't done the will the will yet, the house is a mess I can't leave him with all this.....the thought what is going on, My thoughts are swirling, The group is talking, Stephanie asks me something, I try to respond, not knowing if I sound out of it. I think I need to go to a hospital but which one leland, bayridge, oh my god my clients will be there....am I that far gone?? What is happening? I want to die just to avoid all this, I can't deal with this. Ineed someone to take care of me, I want the group to be over, I watch the clock, Time drags....I have to get out of this room........
I talk about Max's birthday and my mother going, someone asks me why I don't mention Chris not being there..........since Celexa I haven't been able to think, grieve or cry about Chris. I am numb, not depressed still very anxious, but I am like what a bizarre question......
This is not me, I am in psychopharmological lock down. I t can't feel anything except the sternum crushing lead on my chest.