I am struggling. I am struggling with the loss of my husband. I am struggling with how to help my children through this horrifying time. I am struggling with accepting help. I am struggling with the feelings that come along with accepting that help and hoping that people understand how thankful I am. I am struggling with my feelings of not wanting to be around...or talking to people. I know that everyone is there and that they just want to wish me well. It warms my heart. But I am not wanting to have this inevitable conversation with everyone (and believe me, it happens with everyone):
Them: Hi! How ARE you doing?
Me: As good as can be expected. How are you?
Them: How are the kids?
Me: Oh. They're okay. They're up and down.
Them: Well, they were there, weren't they? or That must have been so hard. or How are you coping? or I understand. I lost my dad last year.
And then, it ALWAYS comes around to me having to relive the moments that led up to and the minute detail of the loss of Jeff. Even if I'm not asked, it eventually gets there. It's all I think about. It's always on my mind. The look on his face. The sounds. My terror. The kid's confusion. The doctor's words. It's ALWAYS there. I don't want to talk about it too. It's like some sudden and awful elephantitis that has sproated from the side of my head. It's impossible not to acknowledge it....but I don't want to. I don't want to talk. I don't want to visit. I can't help but to mention it and they can't help but to ask....even in round about ways.
I so appreciate everyone's concern and thoughts and help. I just can't talk right now. I am totally fine with everyone reading the blog to check up on 'how we are' but I can't respond to your calls right now. I just need to be an introvert for awhile. I'm so sorry. Please try to understand.
THE FIREHOUSE CHRONICLES – EPISODE 15
3 weeks ago