My "New Normal"

Hi Baby,

I haven't written for awhile, because honestly, I don't know what to write.  Life is happening.  Things are being done, days go by and I miss you.  I've been holding back the tears.  Doing stuff..I'm not sure what stuff I've even done?

There have been 4 babies born since  you've been gone..or is it five?  The neighbor took the cat to the vets for me today because she's peeing blood and I just don't have the time or energy..I'm not sure which it is? (and now she's hiding and pouting, so unless I find her, I won't be able to set the motion detectors).  The check engine light came on in your truck today.  I called Larry and he gave me some advice.  I have new clients, I finally gave in and made an appointment for Tru to see the pediatrician about his behavior problems.  Last night I spent the entire night by myself in our house for the very first time ever.  I suppose this is my "new normal"?

I hate that phrase you know.  To me it sounds like an oxymoron.  How can this "new" life ever be "normal"?  When you were here, life was normal.  When you were here, we were a family.  When you were here, you irritated me, loved me, made me laugh, held me up, helped me grow and you put your arms around me and you hugged me real tight.  That was normal.

The American Royal Barbecue is coming up.  We always went to that.  You got free tickets from a vendor and we went and we ate stuff and you drank too much free beer and I drove us home.  That was "normal".  The Kansas City Marathon is coming up.  You went and got the signs, set them out, woke me up at "o'dark thirty" and we went together and stood in the cold in the early morning and pointed to where to turn for the Half Marathon or the Full Marathon.  That was normal.

In our old life, we parented together.  When Tru had a melt down, you controlled him, calmed him and involved him.  In our "new normal" I parent alone, I'm putting him on drugs and I'm probably totally screwing him up.  In our old life, he was a happy little boy with two parents who loved him.  In our "new normal" he is an angry kid who has lost his beloved Popi , his Mawmo has fallen apart and he sits in your empty chair and he talks to you.  This is our "new normal".

In our old life, I talked to you in person, I talked to you on the phone, I emailed you every day.  In my "new normal" I talk to you when you're not here, I listen to old voice messages you left and I write a blog that you will never read. In our old life, I thought about you all the time.  In my "new normal" I try not to think of you.   In our old life, I cared...in my "new normal" I could care less.

When people tell me I need to find my "new normal" I think they mean well.  I think they mean it as a form of encouragement.  "New Normal" really sucks, Michael.  I don't want a "new normal", I want my old, normal, run of the mill, happy life.

I miss you so much, Michael.  My soul has been torn in half, my world has been destroyed.  My faith has been rendered powerless. In our old life, I believed that God would grant me the desires of my heart.  I believed I could ask him to protect those I love.  In my "new normal", He's the God who turned a deaf ear when I begged him not to take you.  He's the God who gave you to me and then took you away.

And now, I sit alone at night, crying hot, hurtful tears.  Sitting here in grief and disbelief.  Begging God to turn back time and bring you back....just for a minute...to bring you back and let you hold me tight, let you tell me that it's all going to be okay.  And this, Baby, this is my "new normal".

And So We Danced

The first time we danced together, it just didn't work so well...in fact, the first couple of times was pretty bad.  It's not that you didn't know how to dance, nor was it that I couldn't follow (normally), but there was some weird little step that you did when we were slow dancing and I just couldn't get the hang of it.

When we were getting ready for our wedding, we took private dance lessons, and we learned to dance together, ballroom style, but we still couldn't just cuddle up and slow dance.  Then came Pres. Obama's inaugural dance and I SAW it-I saw that funky little step that you did!  It was the Black version of the two step! And, so we danced!

We danced at our wedding, we danced to the Blues, we danced everywhere there was a band and a dance floor. We even danced in parking lots and grocery store aisles (well, mostly I danced and you just tried to humor me so we could get out before we were thrown out).  The best times were when we danced in the living room.  Tru would come and get between us ("scuse me guys, scuse me, I need to get in here") and so we danced.

There was the time that you danced with your tennis-racket shaped bug zapper (that you just absolutely had to have).  I remember it so clearly.  You had on boxers, a t shirt, black ankle socks and black flip flops!  We had watched "Purple Rain" and at the end of the movie (of course) they played Prince, Purple rain.  You were dancing to that song with your bug zapper, chasing a fly!  You were so funny!  The first time I saw the bug zapper after you were gone, I cried and cried.

You always took me dancing for my birthdays and our anniversary (all two of them).  Once we got started, we stayed on the dance floor most of the time the band played.  I loved being in your arms, I loved flirting with you while we danced (we also had so much fun laughing at the weird way other people danced!  So not like you, but so like me!).  I can still remember you saying "don't worry about what I'm doing, you just keep doing what you're doing and I'll be there".  I didn't know how in the world we could dance if we weren't in sync, but somehow, it always worked out.  I guess maybe it was like that in our marriage (and even in our courtship), we weren't always on the same step, we had different styles, but it worked, somehow, it always worked.

Tonight, Tru and I popped popcorn (you always did that and brought it to me on a paper plate instead of the bowl..I don't know why, and I never asked) and we watched a movie.  At the end of the movie, there was dance music.  Tru got up and did his "hip hop" routine.  Remember how it used to always crack us up when he did that?.  A slower song came on and he said "Mawmo, dance".  I told him I couldn't dance.  He said "Yes you can Mawmo, you and Popi always danced and I'll dance with you now, Mawmo" and so we danced.  He was me and I was you.  I know you were in this room.  I could see you.  You were wearing your blue plaid shirt (the one that was your favorite) you had on your jeans, and your flip flops with socks. You danced with us.  You were so real, you were so here with us.

I started going to a grief support group at church this week.  It's just incredibly sad.  One of the things in the book (you know I HATE those kind of books and I always skip ahead) was that you are supposed to "accept your loss".That makes me so angry!!!  I don't want to "accept my loss".  I did not wait 50 years to find you, Michael, just to "accept" that I've already lost you.  I refuse, I absolutely refuse to accept anything about this horrible, painful season of our life.

You are here, I feel you here, I hear your voice, I smell your neck and I see your face!  I may not be able to touch you, I may not be able to ask you to mow the lawn tomorrow (remember, you cancelled the lawn service this year because "we" were going to do it ourselves and now "we" is "me" and I don't even know how to start the darn mower) but I know you're here, Michael. I know you're here.  You promised to never leave me and so I refuse to "accept my loss".  I go on living for you, missing you, dreaming of you and grieving every single day.  I keep doing everything as if you were here, Michael.

And so we will dance.

Births, Birth Days and Birthday

Happy Birthday, Baby.  This was the one that we looked forward to.  As soon as you turned 62, you were planning to retire.  We were finally going to have more time to spend together, more time to do the things we talked about...just MORE TIME!  There was never enough time..not enough time to sleep in, not enough time for date days, not enough time to travel.  Now, there is NO TIME! Remember when I told you that we needed to start being just a little miserable because being so happy, time was just going too fast?  That before we knew it, time would be over?  I just never dreamed it would be over before your 62nd birthday.

Tru, Gena and I met Larry (your very best friend even now) and his family at Gates Barbeque.  LaFonda's was closed on Monday and Larry said you used to meet your brother at Gates all the time..the original one down in the "hood".  I took my computer and showed them the video of you playing baseball last season.  I just wanted to crawl into the computer so I could be where you are.

We gave Larry one of your watches.  I had Tru give it to him and tell him "we'd like for  you to have Popi's watch".  Larry loved and misses you so very much.  I know that he tries to help Tru and I in honor of your love and friendship.  He took his watch off and put yours on.

After dinner, Larry went with the three of us to the cemetery .  Tru ran relays for us (which was a good way to get him to work out some of that energy) and Larry had a beer and I had a glass of wine to toast you for your birthday.

As we were leaving the cemetery, Tru ran back.  I started to yell at him because he wasn't minding, but before I could, he ran straight to your grave and knelt down and placed a kiss on your grave.  I said "you're forgiven" and Larry said "Absolutely forgiven".

Gena, Tru and I then went to the ball park.  Your brother Robert was playing.  It's always so good to be with your friends and family.  I feel like I've come home when I'm with them.  I miss them all so much.  It was a perfect night to be at the park.  Everyone watched the video of you and all of them remembered your birthday.

All day I had been saying that I was going to have a birth on your birthday. I could just feel a baby coming.  I knew that you would send me a birth.   Sure enough, no sooner than we got to the ballpark, I got a call from a mama who wasn't even due for another week (first time moms usually go over their due date).  This little boy wasn't born on your birthday, he was born on Sept 11 but mom's contractions started on your birthday.  A beautiful little boy, a beautiful birth. Twenty seven hours without sleep, working hard to help mom and I left the birthing center tired, sore and missing you.  I still can't get used to being at a birth without getting texts from you, without calling you for an update when I get a chance to take a break.

You loved what I do.  You loved that I helped women have their baby.  So, I knew that on your birthday, you would send me a birth.  Thank you for that gift, Baby Boy.  I miss you more every single day.  Every day I want you back, but I know that this year you celebrated your earthly birth day with Jesus.  I know that you had your dad and your grandpa and all those friends that have gone before you to celebrate your birthday.  I imagine that there was a giant baseball game, that Buck O'Neill, Babe Ruth and all the other "greats" played in.  And I know that you sent me a birth on your birthday.  I know that you still love me from so far away. And I know that I'm selfish enough to wish you back here to celebrate your birthday with me.

Happy Birthday, Baby.  Happy, Happy Birthday.

What not to say to the widow

Since you left, I have had the strangest things said to me.  Some things piss me off, some things make me laugh (not funny-ha ha!), some things make me cry and once in a while, someone says just the right thing and for a few moments, I feel like I can survive the loss of you.

Most people just don't know what to say.  They don't mean any harm, they want to make you feel better.  Other people are just ridiculously stupid and still others think they are giving sage advice.

Here are some of my favorite things to NOT say to the widow (yes, these things have actually been said to me)

1.  At the visitation "you know, all the women were in love with your husband".  How do you   answer that? "gee, that's nice dear"? or how about "Isn't that sweet, but HE was in love with ME"? 
2.  It's been three weeks...you should be getting used to this by now!  Well, now I know! In 3 weeks, I should be used to having my entire life ripped apart.  And all before the life insurance and the death  certificates are even delivered.
3.  Don't worry, Honey, there are lots of nice guys out there!  Well, since it's been 3 weeks and I'm used to it and there are nice guys out there..what am I upset about?"
4.  I'm sorry for your loss.  Now, I know people say this because they don't want to say "I know how you  feel".  But come on, after hearing this over 800 times, it just doesn't seem very sincere.  It's a catch all phrase.  This can be used if your house burns down, your dog gets run over or you get fired from your   job.  Tell me you thought my husband was a wonderful person, tell me I'm not alone, give me your  number and tell me I can call when my grass needs mowed or my drains back up, or my laundry needs done.  Share a wonderful memory with me of something my husband did. Or just tell me you're sorry for my pain.
5.  Gee, I sure hope your luck changes! This one I had to laugh at!  A stupid clerk in a store that had lost my freezer (because of course the freezer was going out in the middle of all this), after I told her my husband had just died, we'd lost all his income, benefits and social security.  I wanted to say "Thanks sweetie, cause if it doesn't, what's next?  Having my body covered in purulent boils and my house falling into a giant sink hole?
6.  If you are an ex girlfriend, lover or spouse...please do not tell the widow "I loved him a long time ago, but I understand  your pain because I loved him too"!  Need I say more?
7.  You should be thankful for the time you had.  Yes, I am thankful, I am thankful for every single precious, wonderful moment.  Are you telling me I shouldn't be grieving, just counting my blessings?
8.  You're lucky, at least you got to experience real love.  Some people never do.  Yes, I am blessed, every single day that he was with me, I felt blessed.  But would you tell the mother who had lost her child "just be grateful you had a child"?  Or the person who lost a parent "just be thankful you had a mother"?
9.  You need to go on with your life.  Excuse me, but right this minute, I can barely think of getting through  the next hour.  My heart has just been shredded and you're telling me to "get on with my life"
10.   The Lord will see you through this.  I love the Lord, but right now, I'm pretty unhappy and am feeling pretty betrayed by God.  He just took the most precious person in my life.  I'm angry and it's kind of  hard to think the Lord is going to see me through this when I'm still blaming Him for taking my husband.
11.  You just need to get busy.  Today, it took all my strength to brush my teeth, put on the clothes I've   worn for the past three days and make it to the couch.  In a few days, I'm hoping to have the strength to bathe.  Is that busy enough?  Because, really, it's all I've got in me.
12.  You're going through the (name a stage)part of grief, this is normal.  Do not tell me what stage of grief I'm in.  I don't care what you call it, to me, it all feels like pain.
13. Was there a will?  Why, were  you expecting to be in it?  Otherwise, why would you ask?
14. Are you going to sell your house?  My husband isn't in the ground, his shoes are still beside my bed, no, I'm not planning on selling today.
15. Here's my number.  If you feel lonely, give me a call, we'll do dinner. If this is a same-sex person, this is a nice gesture, HOWEVER it is never okay to hit on the widow in the receiving line at the visitation.
16. You're strong, you'll get through this.  Why, because no one has had to talk me in off the ledge?

Now, here is the number one stupid thing that I've had said to me.  This was by an insurance salesman over the phone:  "May I speak to Michael"?  I asked who's calling, he tells me it's about insurance.  I tell the man that my husband has passed away.  He says "Well, he applied for insurance".  I say "He's dead"  Now, get this .....here's the best part "Well, when do  you expect him back"?  Oh gee, I don't know, maybe next Friday but by the return of Christ for sure!!!!

Remember, if you don't know what to say, a hug, a handshake or the offer to say a prayer is always appreciated.