Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Peeling back scabs

This is difficult, this packing up of our house. I gave many of his clothes to his brother. That hurt. What to keep, what to box up...all of it to cry over. And then I found a composition notebook ( I do a lot of my writing longhand) that was used in the week following that day... Notes about the pastor, the service, people's impressions of my dearest one. And a letter I wrote to him a week afterward.

Leonard,

Today I went to bed at 4:30, instead of waking you up. There are no arms around me, no whispered,"I love you" and "midnight goose"... This morning there wasn't any coffee to pour, or lunches to make. No waiting for you to say "books, keys, lunch money" so I knew it was time to kiss you before you left.
Leonard you are/were my life...and if it weren't for our children, I would gladly lay down beside you. I cannot bear the thought of the years stretching out without you and our much talked about plans. I told you last Saturday that we would have to die on the same day because I could not imagine me---without you. Sunday, my worst nightmare came true. And I was right.


I look back at that writing (and cry with the fresh pain of it all relived) and realize it is still true. I'm not me anymore. I am not screaming and shouting and thinking deathly thoughts anymore. But I am not the girl he loved anymore. I had to reinvent myself in order to breathe again. Because I was right. That me would have died right there.

Gosh... this is a hard, hard job. I wish I had a team of 100 instead of just 1. I wish I was Jeannie and could just make it so in one second flat.

13 comments:

Marshamlow said...

I have cried so many tears along side you this past year. I think you are the most courageous person I have ever "met". Putting one foot in front of the other even knowing the pain will be unendurable, you still take each step. I hope the new you will find some peace and happiness in your new journey. The leaving is always so hard for me. We reinvent ourselves in new places every few years. Good wishes.

Shannon said...

i wish I could be there to help right now...just be a friend.

J said...

This move is going to be incredibly difficult, though I suspect necessary. I wish you didn't have to do this. Wish that we in the bloggy world could help you through it.

Unknown said...

Laura,
Lets set a coffee date in stone before you go. Seriously. E-mail me and lets set a date ;-)

Anonymous said...

I know it's overwhelming, but you're doing it, and for that I hope you feel pride in there with all the other emotions.

I think of you often as well. Hugs.

Kesha said...

I wish I could help you pack up and resettle. I'm going to be sad for the fact that we never got the chance to meet. Happy for you that you've come this far. You're such a strong and courageous woman Laura. My best wishes for you, always.

kesha

Courtney said...

I wish I lived closer to help you pack, but then again I'd have to bring my heathens so maybe not much would get done...lol. But I would be there for you to listen at least, right?

Hugs to you!

Jeanette said...

You've been courageous and strong this past year and you have come a long way. One day you will look back on memories and smile. Hang in there.

artemisia said...

I cannot image what these tasks at hand must bring up.

I am thinking of you.

Donna said...

I SO wish for you...happiness...bless your heart.hughugs

Nance said...

The important thing is that you did NOT lie down and die right there. You kept finding that last shred of strength--somehow--and kept on. Even when you thought it wasn't going to be there. Even when you had nothing left for anyone, let alone yourself. And it's been hundreds and hundreds of days. You've made it and now you know you can keep on making it.

Rach said...

Look at how far you've come. I know it's still excruciatingly painful, but you're still tying those knots and hanging on.

Your trip to Disney looked like it was too much fun--LORDY James is a handsome boy!

Good luck with the packing, staging, etc. I LOATHE moving. UGH! My thoughts and HUGS are still with you. :o)

Ronni said...

I still cry when I hear a woman complaining about her husband's snoring.

It's awfully quiet without...