Friday, November 14, 2008

not much left to say


As you've noticed, I haven't been writing with much 'substance' lately. I am at a loss for what to say. I wonder if I've said it all before. I hardly remember at times if I've felt these things before. What I feel is unknown even to me. Things here are changing and evolving but staying remarkably the same. Life is moving forward. Things are needing attending to. Other people are forgetting. This movement takes me farther away from the moment that Jeff died. Those few minutes are never far from my thoughts, but they are no longer the first thing I think of in every situation. I don't 'see' Jeff's face in my hands and 'hear' myself screaming as I have a totally unrelated conversation with someone. The voice has stopped telling me, "Jeff's dead". The terror and trauma are there, but to a lesser degree.
I am finding that as I emerge from whatever you would call that place...shock? hell?....I forget that Jeff is gone more often. I don't think 'forget' is actually the correct word. The fear of the moment is not as sharp and it is easy to remember and to sink into my now pseudo life as it was/would have been. I think this may be denial. I try to avoid his photos. They just make me remember the feel of the curls at the back of his neck. The smell on his clothes. The shape of his feet. It hurts too much and makes me long for him so intensely it physically hurts. I steer my mind away from the pain. I try to tell myself that it is okay. That I am strong and I am surviving.
But I have more of those moments where I think, "I can't wait to tell Jeff!" "When Jeff gets home..." I can't totally understand why these thoughts are actually increasing, other than that somehow, the last moments I had with him cease to be the last moments I remember of him. In someways, it feels as if March 25th, 2008 happened years ago and that he has been with me since. Maybe, I'm just going insane. Maybe my brain is coping by sending me on a mental trip....but this is so NOT a holiday.
Last week, I got 'Jeff mail'. It was from the sheriff's office. I worried that I had forgotten to pay his speeding ticket and now they were going to take him/me to court. I tore the envelope open to find a jury summons. A jury summons. Those of you who knew Jeff well will know why I then burst into laughter. Jeff on a jury! Hilarious! I couldn't wait to tell him....Then I sat down and sobbed. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't laugh with him about the absurdity of a jury summons for Jeff. I would never laugh with him.
And now, I just have to keep walking. These kids need to be fed. The house needs to be cleaned. The washer needs repairing. I need to pick up a parcel....I feel like we're....I'm pretending that life goes on. And sometimes, I think I'm doing okay. Like when you learn to ride a bike and you're thinking, "LOOK! I'm doing it! I'm doing it!" And then you fly over your handlebars and get gravel shoved up your nostrils and scraped knees. I'm angry about how this life is.
I don't want to move on. I feel like I'm rebelling. I do things that would have never occurred to me before. I just don't care anymore. I have nothing to lose (except my kids and I would fight to bodily death for them). Everything is...empty and ridiculous. Things I enjoyed in my life 'before' are devoid of meaning. I scoff at the stupidity of society and the motivations behind most actions. It's all vacuous crap....But then, on the other hand, I find myself staring at people and wondering what their story is. How did they get this way? I am falling in love with elderly people who have been through so much. Who have endured wars and lost children and the loves of their lives. Have suffered atrocities and terrors. Still they stand. Some have found meaning. Some have gained the spark back in their eyes. They are my heroes. I want to hear them. I want to ask them how long it was before 'they' returned. I want to know that I am not alone in grief. I want to hear that people have suffered....worse and lived to live again.
My brain and my emotions have left me. They left an empty shell. An automaton. I exist. I don't live. I died as he took his last breath.....But maybe. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe one day, I will live again. I can't see it now. But if I look to people who have endured and survived through horror, I know there may be hope.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

What you say about "old" people is an insight. I witnessed this with my own Mom...My father died young as well, he drowned in Lake Superior on a fishing trip. I was 12. We had very little to survive on. My Moms grief was raw, she was so lost at times, but somehow she kept on, she said she had to because of me. She found happiness again in the day to day happenings of life. Dad was never far from her heart. She waited 25 years for the lake to surrender his body... it never did. Her final words to my sister and I were that of a love that was so pure and real that she taught us that forever was simply one day at a time. I think you know what I mean.

Lindsay D. said...

Thinking of you Jackie- You are never far from my thoughts- Sending lots of healing, peaceful vibes.. .

xoxox Linds :)

TheSingingBird said...

Jackie, please know again that there is no time line or "right way to grieve" and only what is best for you and your children matters right now...and this blog is yours and for you, so substance for readers isn't important.

I truly believe that your life is, and will be, rich and full of meaning and that you will be able to grow beyond the places where you feel stuck and in pain.

Maybe taking a break from blogging will help to refocus, only you can decide. I don't want to tell you what to do...I just want to give you some loving support.

☮♥Hugs and blessings to you and your children.

Anonymous said...

Still with you my friend.. sigh. I just did the tournament and had a MAJOR crash after it, and just today have picked my SELF back up.

I think of you and your children often and when I read your blogs, I feel like I am reading my exact thoughts... " I can't wait to tell him".

People kept telling me that I am so strong at the tournament.. when do I have time to NOT be i wanted to ask them in return.

The never ending lists... for us unemployed momma's ... I posted jokingly that I need a nanny, secretary, and maid, then I can be still, take a deep breathe, rest... that is my wish for all us.



This is a traditional prayer I try to read daily in my traditional language;

Why kash nahs haa thl-pee Haa waay lth
Thlak thlakwas soo titlh haawaaylth
kaa tsee is thlee-muks stee
haa akwa piss hawaaylth
chaa ma pilth a piss

Praise light of the day the Creator
I am pleading with you Creator
give me strength
have me strong
help me stand with honor dignity and respect.

My prayer for you, continued strength.

Melody

Rach said...

xxx

Stacia said...

You are in my thoughts and prayers~
Stacia

randommsugirl said...

'Have suffered atrocities and terrors. Still they stand. Some have found meaning. Some have gained the spark back in their eyes. They are my heroes.'
You are my hero. . . . . and a hero to many people out in cyberland. You get up, and your love your children and you try to make their lives meaningful, and you try to get through the day. That is more than some people who haven't even dealt with the loss that you have manage to do. Don't think for a second that you aren't in the same league with other "heroes".

hugs from Chicago,
a lurker (Meredith from Chi)