Grammy

Tonight we went out to dinner with my mother in law. We went to Applebee's, which I am not a big fan of...and apparently neither is my son. I spent about 20 minutes asking them where they wanted to go. You know how it goes,"I don't care. Anywhere is fine. I'm just hungry." My daughter suggested Applebees. This was a good suggestion as it was not a place that Leonard and I went to and I am having a hard time doing the things we used to do. At that moment my son popped up with,"I hate Applebees...!" I don't know how this is possible since he has never been there. My seasoned parental response? "Too bad. Too late. Done deal..." I know, I'm really good at building character. He spent most of the day (it was a half day) with my mother in law and was kind of beat so I gave his restaurant mini tantrums (i.e. just loud enough to make everyone at the table lose their appetite, but not loud enough to cause him any embarrassment from other diners) a break. This is usually followed by an "I miss daddy, remember when..." session. So far it hasn't happened, but I am girding myself.

It is difficult to see my mother in law because little bits and pieces of less than flattering things she has said about me have come back to me. Ummmm....people....I don't really need to know everything she thinks of me. We did manage to have an okay time. And I do care about her. There are just...how do I put it...issues there.

It is now 8:25 and all is calm in the house.

I have decided to write little bits and pieces of just who Leonard was on this blog, due to some feedback I have received...and I'm sure you all know I could talk about him forever. I think it might be helpful to me because my main worry is that time will pass, and people will forget. I'm going to attempt to write little thumbnail sketches of our life together.

I know I had mentioned elsewhere in this blog that Leonard and I first met when we were 12. He sat behind me in 7th grade. Another interesting factoid is that we actually dated and broke up, at age 18, before actually falling in love (ha! he said it first even) at 22. We dated for a year at the age of 18. I broke up with him because...don't laugh...he was too nice. Seriously. He opened doors for me, escorted me to the bathroom (how embarrassing) called me "Love" and, worst of all, enjoyed spending time with my parents. My father adored him even then. He would pick up fast food, ice cream, you name it for them on his way to pick me up (usually a half hour early when I wasn't even done with my hair). It used to irritate the heck out of me. Remember, this was 1988 and I wanted a "bad boy". Think Motley Crue/Poison/GunsNRoses here. So I did what any idiot would do. I broke up with him. For 4 years my father would, every once in a while ask, "What ever happened to that Leonard? I really liked him." I never admitted it to my family but I started missing him the day after we broke up.

Just one night at a time...

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.

I Love you Forever, Mom...

My son went over to his cousin's house after school to spend some time with him and also with my brother in law. I think it helps them both. I went to Staples with my daughter to replace yet another digital camera that had fallen victim to my klutziness. I have busted three cameras by dropping them in the course of my career as an appraiser. You'd think I would learn.

James always does "better" when he spends time with his Uncle and cousin. I have a tough time being there because, well, because everything reminds me of Leonard and good times we had and then the crushing feeling that he's just not coming back. I was talking with my brother in law about this. About how it feels so nice to be together and talk about him, and yet it hurts when I leave. I feel so bad for him. He lost his brother, his buffer, his best friend.

My daughter keeps telling me to stop crying, feel better, "I miss my Mom"... She is 17 so I reasoned with her that it will take time, if ever, for me to feel "happy" again. I worry because I don't think she has even faced this event yet.

I have gone back to work. But I work from home so it wasn't really too difficult to attempt a return. I do find the smallest task is hard to do. It is hard to concentrate on my clients when I am in the field. It is hard to drive the truck that my husband was so delighted with. I used to beg him to switch vehicles with me. To drive the Yukon and enjoy it. He never really did. I wish he had.


The best part of today??? A little sticker that my son made for me at his cousin's house. On it are the words "I love you forever, Mom"...and a bunch of heart stickers. My little nephew also made me two stickers. I will put all three on my clipboard. He also gave a blank one so I could make one of my own. I love their little ways of trying to take care of people. Daddy/Uncle would be so proud.

Photographs

This is one of my favorite pictures of my husband and our son. It was taken at Eastertime and the timeless quality of it made me catch my breath the first time I saw it. My son carries it with him to school every day.

My husband was beautiful. I would find myself wondering when that "in love" feeling faded in a marriage...that "oh my gosh, my stomach just flipped" feeling whenever he came home from work. It is a physical,mental and spiritual ache.

I hate that I cannot help our children. I can only see them through. I hate that I still wake up at 4:30 every morning to get him up for work. It is always 4:30, which would make him laugh because sometimes I used to oversleep. I have yet to do that.

All of things that I did for my husband: getting him up, making his lunch, rubbing his back, fixing his plate at family functions, I did because wanted to...not because I had to. I got teased a lot but it was worth it. I. Love. Him. When you love someone it's what you want to do.

A month or so before my husband died (I hate typing that still) I came across the blog of a woman who had lost her daughter. I cannot imagine that pain. In her writings, this woman shared her very special daughter with all of us and taught me a lesson. To appreciate and be grateful. I showed the blog to my husband and told him how much I loved him, appreciated him and the children and how I could not imagine this happening to such undeserving, wonderful people. It was also a discussion we had back after the airshow and pilot who crashed. We spent a lot of time on regrets, not having them and just being grateful. I did not know then how soon that would be put to use. It is so very hard. I still wake up wondering why I am in the living room and he is not there.

I would give my soul to have him wink at me, or kiss me midsentence, just one last time.

What next?

Today I had to go to the police station to claim his things. My father tried to do it for me and they would not let him. Reading the words on the forms I had to sign, reading through his list of things (3 keyrings, pocket knife, wallet, cell phone, comb, belt buckle) destroyed me. The stuff of his life, no longer his, but mine to claim. So many awful memories, a week and a half fresh...of that very same station...the very same people...and even more pain. Again it hits me that these are the types of things that he took care of and shielded me from. So I signed the forms releasing them from liability for possibly "contaminating" me (how could my baby contaminate me?) and brought them home. I can't go through them. My father has them.

My mother in law is mad because my son has not been back to school since Tuesday. He is not ready. His separation anxiety is great. His teacher knows and acknowledges that we are making the right decision. I am defending him against stupid words ("Now you have to take care of Mama", "Be a little man") that could wreck his psyche. Knowing I cannot make this hurt better for him, but only help see him through.

He played with his cousin today, which is a good thing. I am trying to encourage him that this is what Daddy would want, just as I encourage our daughter that daddy would want her to do the best she can this last year of school... all the while I am just waiting.

Dreamlike

This is not real. This cannot be happening to us. On Saturday we were spending wonderful day together, making plans for a future that would never come. The service is over, the family and friends have left...and still I cannot wrap my mind around it.

Leonard

My life, my beautiful, strong, sweet husband passed away on Sunday August 26. He was 37. He was my love and my future. Please don't ever let a day go by without letting your loved ones know what they mean to you.