missing and waiting

I found these pictures on the computer the other day. I had taken them last September when the kids were waiting for Jeff to get home from work. Liv sat there for SO long waiting impatiently for the sound of his truck. When he arrived, two kids, two dogs and a wife spilled out the front door all laughing and jumping up for a hug. It was one of those golden late Summer evenings and I could swear it was only days ago.
I think I'm doing the 'denial' thing now. I know he's dead. But I can't reconcile the image of his cold body at the funeral home with the strong, loving, happy husband that I know. I really feel like he'll come home soon. It's as if my heart doesn't know. Is it because I am still so in love with him? Is it because I was used to him being away for periods of time while he was fishing? Is it because my heart does not want to know?
I find myself having to go through every plan we had and remind myself that it isn't going to happen. We're not going camping this Summer. We're not going to replace the deck. We're not going to drink the last remaining bottle of champagne we had left from our wedding together. We're not going to have the vet come to the house to have Eli put down and be support for eachother when it comes time.
Today, I painted the garage doors that he built. I felt close him by seeing where he put every screw and cut every board. I could imagine him in the wrokshop puttering away at something while I stood on the step stool painting. We'd be talking about something - the kids, the ridiculousness of professional wrestling, the price of fish, how much gas is in the lawn mower....We'd just work side by side and I'd be happy. But instead, I painted and thought of him. I wondered at his skill and I wondered what he thought about while he did each individual part. I chastised myself for not doing it with him and soaking up the last few weeks I would have with him. The washing of the dishes and the running to the store could have waited. I would be with him.

There are so many things I would ask him. There are so many questions that I now have for him. I really thought I had forever to ask. Some are the simple, "Why won't the cordless drill battery pack hold a charge?" Then there's the, "Why do you want to lay in a puddle in the rain?" He had told me he wanted to find a puddle to do this in. I laughed. I never asked him why. Or maybe, I did but I don't remember the answer. I wish I could go back and find out. I think I may have to try it myself. Maybe I'll find the answer while laying in a puddle. Maybe I'd find a connection to him in that mud puddle.

I just really, really want to feel close to him right now. I need him to be here. I need to know he is close.