Tonight is the first night, since that night, that it will be just the kids and I in the house. I am frightened by that. I find myself forgetting to breathe, getting chills and just wanting to collapse again. It is almost "okay" when there are people around. The less people, the more his absence grows.
I have been recalling the last moments that I saw him. He was standing at the kitchen sink, drinking a glass of water after having mowed the lawn. A normal Sunday. How I wish I could go back in time and not take that shower, force myself upon him, go with him on that ride to the store. I keep trying to figure out a way to go back and change things...which is normal, I suppose.
I just put my son to bed, after he and his sister and I had a gut wrenching cry... and all I could say is how sorry I was. They start Sandcastles next week and I hope that will help them.
Aunt Diane (not really a blood aunt, but a person who has been so close to the family that my husband grew up calling her aunt, and her family is closer to me than a lot of my real family-she's his mother's best friend) had a bracelet made out of swarovski (sp) crystals with his name spelled out for me. It is beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time. Leonard loved a song by Waylon Jennings entitled "It's Not Supposed to Be that Way..." and I played it over and over again in the car yesterday. I think of decades stretching out empty without him, after the children are grown and I cannot bear it. But I have to. and it hurts.
To those of you who have been so thoughtful with your replies, I appreciate it. Your words, your kindness and caring are amazing. I have about 20 or so blogs I visit on a regular basis. I've been trying to get back into commenting. To those of you who let my sometimes disjointed posts stand, you are wonderful. Sometimes I run across a place where a comment of mine has been deleted and it is hurtful, (my husband existed... my husband was 10 x any other man I have ever come across in my life. Of course I am biased, but if you had only had the chance to meet him... ) but then I tell myself that these things are really difficult to understand until one goes through them themselves. Which I hope never happens to another family. Memorializing a loved one,and speaking about them, is a way of working through the heart hurting grief. I hope everyone who reads this feel safe and loved tonight.