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