Thursday, October 11, 2007


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 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.


Shari said...

I still think you are doing what you can. Again, you are stronger than you think. :) You continue to amaze me with what you are doing and thinking about doing.

P.S. I hope that you'll accept a Rockin' Girl Blogger award. I couldn't think of anyone who deserves this more than you do.

God Bless

Misguided Mommy said...




Shannon said...

Not that this in anyway compares...but we lost our first baby at 24 weeks due to horrible birth defects. We had dreams for our future that involved that child and then all of a sudden there weren't anymore dreams, so we thought. But slowly and surely we started dreaming again and imagine a somewhat altered future.

I think that you can still make some of those dreams that you and Leonard shared a reality. Like that dream house? You can still do it. Make it a wonderful and beautiful place that you can share with future grandchildren. Involve things that would make Leonard proud and it is still both of yours "dream".

Haylee said...

Hi Laura:

I wonder if you are expecting too much of yourself at this time. The sad reality is that things will never be "put right" the way you long for them to be. The future is yet to be revealed.

The challenge is to redefine your present for your future. Perhaps it might help to focus on what Leonard would want for you - how he would want you to live the days ahead in a way that honors him, your marriage and, most of all, yourself. See the self-worth that Leonard obviously saw in you. You are much more than simply half a couple.

It must overwhelm you to think so far ahead - perhaps you should limit the scope to just the next days or weeks -- small bites you can handle. Easier said than done, I know.

Are you attending individual & group grief counselling?

Try to cut yourself some slack in terms of your daily activities - or lack of them. In these very early days, just facing another day is a monumental task and all your energy is spent in doing that. Give yourself permission to heal in your own way & in your own time.

Have you talked to your doctor regarding anti-depressants -- you've experienced a tragic shock and maybe your brain chemistry needs some leveling -- having reason for a clinical depression doesn't leave you immune to physiological imbalance.

I am so sorry you hurt.

Laurie said...

Hi Laura,
I am hurting along side of you tonight as I read what you have written. Broken and lonely sure sums it up and I wish I had words of encouragement to help lift your spirit. I can tell you that I keep you in my heart and prayers every day, asking the Lord to keep you safe in His care and let you feel His love all around you. I see you as doing the best you can right now and healing comes in the going through. Praying your days become a bit easier sweet friend. Hold on.

Laurie in Ca.

Swistle said...

This is so sad, and I'm so sorry. Not sharing grandchildren is so sad.

I picture you like someone who has fallen off a cliff and is looking back up at the edge wondering how to get there again. You're a big mass of broken bones from the fall, and the cliff is impossible to get to. First you have to lie still and let things heal. Then decide which direction to go--when your legs can carry you, no sooner.

rachd said...

The future is terrifying, isn't it? when you look ahead and see a future that doesn't hold him (or in our case, her), it leaves you breathless. So, I've stopped looking past right now, or, some days, next week. I can't go any farther than that. Take it one moment at a time. Just breathe. Really, that's all that's important, just breathing and living and loving your kids.

Speaking of kids, Nicole sounds a lot like Han. I swear to you, there were days I just wished she would stop talking for 30 seconds--that's all, just 30 seconds! :oP Hannah chattered so much she would be mid chatter and fall asleep. Seriously! Ah, what a kiddo.

One final thought, I promise you, you aren't doing nothing. You are doing *everything*. You are surviving and I don't think you can ask for more than that.


The girl left behind said...

Take it easy. Slow and easy.

Sharpie said...

Giving up dreams must be the hardest of all. I can only try to imagine. And though these memories hurt so bad right now - I believe that some day they will make you smile instead of cry. I have to believe that.

You are such an inspiration and EXAMPLE of how a wife, mother, friend should be. Through your stories - I have learned, grown and changed. Really.

I feel like every time I read one of your posts - I am reading a chapter in a book. Maybe that is a new write these posts and have them printed as a book to honor Leonard. I can totally see it coming true.

New dreams are out there. They are just a bit off in the distance right now. Hold tight to your memories, your kids and yourself. You are a wonderful person. Good things happen to good people. This I also believe. I have to.

Much Love.

The Stevens Family said...

I am so sorry for your loss. I think you need to take it one day at a time. Also, with you writing what you wouldn't be able to say to your kids or anyone else shows huge steps in the healing process. As Rachael has written many times, you will have a new "normal" also. Hugs to you and your family!

Artemisia said...

Oh, Swistle. That was some wonderful advice.

Change is so hard. Change forces us to come to terms with the past, re-imagine our future, and demands that we live more in the present.

Oh, listen to Swistle. Print her words off and tape them to your mirror.

You will be okay, really you will.

Gina said...

Yes, I don't think I could say it any better than Swistle.

Thinking of you, and hugs.

J at said...

Regarding your COBRA situation, here are the regs - They had 30 days to notify YOU, you had time after that to decide (and I know you sent in your paperwork within that timeframe anyway, but still...:

What process must individuals follow to elect COBRA continuation coverage?
Employers must notify plan administrators of a qualifying event within 30 days after an employee's death, termination, reduced hours of employment or entitlement to Medicare.

A qualified beneficiary must notify the plan administrator of a qualifying event within 60 days after divorce or legal separation or a child's ceasing to be covered as a dependent under plan rules.

Plan participants and beneficiaries generally must be sent an election notice not later than 14 days after the plan administrator receives notice that a qualifying event has occurred. The individual then has 60 days to decide whether to elect COBRA continuation coverage. The person has 45 days after electing coverage to pay the initial premium.