My son and I call Thursdays "Moday", as in "one mo day to the week". We got it from a local radio station and it stuck. My son absolutely is not fond of going to school so we've made up (or cribbed) names for each day. It, of course, doesn't make him any happier about school but we do it anyway.
How long can a person go without really doing anything? I mean it when I say I do basically nothing. Or so it feels. I try not to even really think anymore, because I am afraid I'll go crazy. Today I did too much thinking.
I thought about all of our dreams, as a couple. The things we wanted to do in the future, like building our dream getaway on property (which was becoming a reality, as Leonard went to the bank that Thursday to talk about an equity loan), vacations. And just growing old together and spoiling any potential grandchildren so our children would know what it's like. I also thought about the things we had given up on. A 10th anniversary Vegas vacation, the truck that my husband really wanted when he bought the '03 Dodge without bells and whistles, a 2 story house (because my RA would make laundry impossible, or even buying a house on land (that was our last year dream when we had our house on the market, and actually made a few offers on others, before the market bottomed out. Dead dreams.
What am I supposed to dream for now? My hope is that my children can grow up to be strong, healthy and self sufficient in a more peaceful world. That the loss of his beloved Daddy won't emotionally damage my son. That my daughter can finally come to terms with some of the issues that arose in the past (I would so love to pour that out, but I cannot because it wouldn't be fair to her). But...what then? There isn't anything or me to dream about after that. I cannot stand the thought of walking that path without him. I cannot even (forgive me) stand the thought of grandchildren without being able to watch him hold them... love them. I cannot stand the thought of a cold and lonely bed (which is why I sleep on the couch now) without him in it. And that space beside me was only ever meant for him. A lot of people say that time heals. I don't feel the healing. I wrapped myself so up in that man that his loss left me so devastated that each day brings a little bit more of the things that I will never get to experience with him. I am so jealous of the me I used to be. That girl, that woman that I thought was so confident, so able...is gone. In her place this broken and lonely person. I cannot stand it.
Today the airplanes were loud and active. We live in the flight path of an ANG base. They are F-16's and they are loud. Today...they hurt for two reasons. One, the memories of an exciting trip to the airshow just two months ago (really only that long ago? I cannot believe it and other days it seems like such a short time ago) Two...a memory from long ago. When we were dating we used to take Nicole for walks. She would have been about 3 at the time and there were lovely paths behind the apartment where Leonard lived. She was also a chatter box. We were walking. Nicole was talking. Leonard lifted her up and said,"Shhhhhhh...hush. Listen to nature. What do you hear?" She looked at him, looked up and listened. For about 10 seconds. And what did she hear? "AIRPLANE!!!" she screeched. I loved it when Leonard laughed so hard he couldn't breathe. That was one of those moments. Which leads to another memory. He was her first babysitter (outside of my father, but we lived with him so I don't count it) and one Saturday he was bringing her to visit me up at work. I was a stylist for Penney's at the time. I guess she must have been chattering again (there was never a time when she hasn't chattered) and he thought up a game where she could count the arrows on signs between his apartment and my work, thinking it would keep her relatively quiet. They walked up to my station at work, and he said to me,"Do you know how many freaking arrows there are between my place and here? 89." He went on to tell me that she made up a song about arrows, and truck rides and wanted to know what the Spanish word for arrow was. He was always so patient with her, with me, with our son, his coworkers. Everything is just so very much upside down... too much. I am so afraid that it will never be put right.