I finally went and picked up his ashes and brought them home. My father came with me and I don't know if that was a good idea or a bad one. I was "okay" (i.e. not breaking down) until the director said, "and when did he die?" Because I keep waking up, hoping for a miracle. Each time I am forced (or decide) to do another thing that has to do with his loss, the hope for that miracle fades. Each time someone asks me questions about his death, or I see his name in connection with "In memory of" or "deceased" etc it is like realizing it for the first time, all over again.
We had to wait about 5 minutes for the director to return with them and my father quickly took them and tucked them away under his arm. The director was really very nice and told me I could come back when I was ready to transfer to a permanent urn. I signed the paperwork, and he finally came back from the store. I really didn't know what to think. I know that we came in the house, my father had a cup of coffee and then had to go to work. I know that I took his ashes into our bedroom and was slammed with the realization that this will be the only way he will be in our bedroom ever again. And the forget to breathe, ugly, aching sobs began. I sat on the side of the bed just realizing that there will be no miracle. This really is it for us. Our little story really has ended. The lights that shone so brightly on our future dimmed for good.
I am a person that has always had to make things better. Leonard called me a S-mother because I am constantly attempting to hold stuff together. To get dinner on the table, laundry done (I failed miserably at times, but I tried), keep children happy, and find some small way to let them know I loved them. When he was sick, he would get irritated at me for trying to cover him up, take his temperature, kiss his forehead and make it better. I was constantly badgering him to go to the doctor for the slightest thing...
This, I will never be able to make better. I told a friend that that weekend (when it happened) was like I was running around, trying to hold water in a napkin. And the napkin ripped, the water spilled out and was lost and, as any seamstress knows, a napkin isn't nearly strong enough to sew back together again. You can try, but you'll only create more rips. That's where I am.
I am hoping to get "away" this weekend. I am taking the kids to Great Wolf Lodge, one of several resort/waterparks in the area, and maybe to an amusement park the next day, if the weather holds. I may or may not bring my lap top, and may or may not write depending on how late the chickens stay up. A couple of my children's friends are coming along as well, and you know how that goes. I thank you all so much for visiting here. If I'm not here this weekend, I'll be back on Monday.