Someone sent this to me not long after Patrick died. I had some so called friends telling me I needed to get over it and move on. They couldn't understand why I was (and still am) so depressed. They're recently told me that its been 2 months, and wanted to know why it was talking so long. Seriously?
What exactly is “IT?” I’ll tell you what “IT’ is.
- IT is five days after the funeral, Thanksgiving Day, trying to find something to be thankful for. This year Warrior's birthday is on Thanksgiving. November will be 7 months. We now have to find new plans for our Thanksgiving this year.
- IT is Christmas without the merry, and New Year’s without the happy. Those traditions that Patrick and I started. Patrick was like a little kid at Christmas. Not having him there when the kids open their presents. Having to play Santa all by myself.
- IT is your first day back to work when every minute you are afraid you will burst into tears. - I've decided that I'm going to hold off until after school starts in August. I was in absolutely no shape to try to start a job. I could barely get out of bed and get dressed, there was no way I was going to be able to learn how to do a new job.
- IT is his birthday, but there is no him. Patrick's birthday was May 23rd. A month and 13 days after he passed away. A day that was supposed to be a celebration that he made it to a year older, instead we sent him a birthday card via Angel Mail.
- IT is Valentine’s Day, only this time the roses are from your children. - Our Valentine's Day tradition was a letter to each other. These letters included 1 memory from when we were dating. 1 memory from the first year we were married. 5 memories from all the years we were married, and 5 things we want in our future together. I have each and every letter he gave me. All 14 of them.
- IT is your birthday, and there is still no him. - July 14. No birthday card from him. No birthday lunch, no waking me up at midnight to give me a birthday kiss.
- IT is April 15 and you sing “filing as surviving spouse” – surviving, yes; living, no. - To far away to even think of right now.
- IT is springtime when everything comes alive except you, that is.- no more picking out flowers for the flower beds. No more deciding together what we want to plant in the garden.
- IT is Easter and everyone is singing “Let Us Rejoice and Be Glad” – there is no rejoicing and no glad. - Patrick passed away 2 days after Easter. He coded and had to have chest compressions the day before Easter.
is Mother’s Day and you sadly remember how happy he was when each child was born. - This Mother's Day was my first without him. I missed him teasing me about how Father's Day should be before Mother's Day. How Mother's Day was all by itself and Father's Day was combined with graduations. You know, Dad's and Grads.
- IT is Father’s Day and your kids spend it with you and there is an empty chair in the room. - Tomorrow. Tomorrow my kids will send their dad his Father's Day card by Angel Mail. No hugs. No kisses. No "Its Father's Day, its my day to relax" excuses.
- IT is the 4th of July and the job of raising the flag has been passed on to your sons. - No more running all over town so he could find his favorite fireworks. No more excitement about taking the kids to the parade. No more sitting on the porch with him watching the neighborhood firework show.
- IT is vacation time and you and your kids go without him - Its not fair! He should be with us. It should be us taking the train across country to visit different places. Not the kids and I headed to my mom's house trying to run away from the memories for a couple of weeks.
- IT is Halloween and you pass out the candy, but the silly dad in the mask is absent. - Patrick prepared for Halloween months in advanced. He'd put so much time and effort into the perfect halloween costume. This year I will be taking the kids trick or treating alone.
- IT is looking at the moon and wondering if he sees the same moon like the two of you always did when apart in the past. - Talking to the moon hoping that he can still hear me, but wishing he was with me.
- IT is receiving that first wedding invitation that is addressed to you and your “guest.” - The wedding invitations started coming not long after Patrick passed away. My brother is getting married July 3rd. I'm excited for him, but I'm scared that I'm going to break down in the middle of it.
is going back into “that” church for the first time and remembering,
but not remembering and feeling that all eyes are upon you. - It will be a long time before I can step foot into that church. Thankfully its 400 miles away.
- IT is going to another
funeral for the first time and feeling yourself shaking all over, too distraught to stay, but unable to leave. - I'm praying I don't have to go to another one for a very long time. I'm not sure I can bring myself to go to one right now.
is doing all the things you always did, plus all the things he always
did, and doing it when all your energy has been used for grieving.- Most days I'm impressed I'm up, showered, and dressed. Not to mention having to do my normal stay at home mom daily chores, but I've had to take on all his too.
- IT is being strong when you really feel weak. - more like tired of being strong. I want to fall apart and have him wrap his arms around me and tell me its OK. I need him more than anything right now, and I'm such a wreck because he's no longer here.
- IT is putting on a pasted smile when you are crying inside and saying you are okay when you really aren’t. - People are constantly telling me I look good. Not sure what they expect me to look like. I get up, showered, dressed, and do my make up in hopes that it will make me feel better. It doesn't. I look good on the outside, but I'm falling apart on the inside.
is dealing with titles and abstracts and bills and attorneys and doing
it very well when all you really want to do is hibernate. - There should be a grieving period. Everyone/everything should be able to wait for 3 months. Unfortunately it doesn't. Having to tell people that Patrick passed away. Have to send off copies of the death certificate to prove it. Having to take his name off everything.
- IT is a whole big bunch of stuff you didn’t ask for, didn’t want and can’t even give away. - I didn't want this attention. I didn't want this hurt. All I wanted was the transplant to make my husband healthy so he could be a normal husband and father again.
- IT is going to the cemetery and seeing the monument with his name, and it hits you in the face that this is real. - Yesterday I finished paying off his headstone. Having to decide what picture to use for it. What I wanted it to say. What I wanted it to look like, what font to use. I'm 32. I shouldn't have to figure this out yet!
- IT is feeling like a traitor when you get rid of his personal belongings. - I can't even bring myself to go through his things let alone get rid of anything.
- IT is seeing couples hand in hand and tearfully glancing at the gold band he put on your finger years ago and somehow
not being able to take it off. - I'm having a very hard time dealing with couples right now. I have a couple of friends that are in new relationships and all lovey dovey and rather gross. I can't stand to see it, let alone see all the pictures of it all over Facebook. I am happy for them, but its like a punch in the gut too.
- IT is approaching the first anniversary of his death and reliving it all – oh, yes, you are better, but the void is no less. - Its only been 2 months, I can't imagine it being a whole year since he's been gone.
- IT is people forgetting and you cry, and it is people remembering and you cry. - Right now I cry at anything and everything. Half the time I'm not sure what set me off, but something does and I cry and cry and cry. Its even worse when you're in public when it hits.
- IT is a future of unknowns and uncertainties and emptiness. - I have a huge empty hole in my chest. I'm 32. I'm a widow, and the only parent my kids have left.
- IT is your wedding anniversary, and for the first time you really understand the words, “till death do us part.” - January 24, 1998. That's the day that I married my best friend. I still feel like we're married and part of me always will. The paper work from the Social Security Office says "marriage ended by death." Those are horrible words.
So maybe when someone tells you that you should be over it by now, you should just tell them what “IT” really is!