I swear some people think I am somewhat close to it, and it freaks me out. I want to ask "where the hell in this process do you think I AM?" People are asking about my next relationship, and I still think to reach for my phone to text ReBF when I see some show or event I want to attend. I still tell people I have a boyfriend.
One of my biggest fears in life is being misunderstood. It's why I love words so much.
But you've read enough 5,000 word posts about it that I kind of think you've proved yourself as a friend by now. Thank you, and I love you. I know you've been waiting for this post a good long time.
I have sought the validation that my grieving process was robbed of because we hadn't gotten married. And I have received it. My pain is legitimate even if the legality of our relationship was just shy of that legitimacy. After talking to a close friend about The Blog, I really think I gotta take it down a notch with the dramatic flowery boo-hooing and the like.
So, to set the record straight, all I want to do is curl up in a ball with the four articles of his dirty laundry left in the laundry basket when he died (three of them are underwear, ew, and how sad am I). OK, no lying: that is what I do. You are correct in your being grossed out. I'm not offended by it. Of course, I'm not grossed out by his dirty underwear either. I remember once walking into the bathroom because I had to leave for work, to say bye. He was sitting on the toilet. Without batting an eye, I came through the door, leaned down and kissed his forehead with a hair-tousle and said "I'll call you. Let's do something tonight. I love you." He looked pretty taken aback. Nothing about him grossed me out. Anyway, his unwashed undies don't have the same effect on me as they would on you. But it is a pretty good measure of how desperate and lonely I am for him. If you didn't believe I've died inside just a little, maybe that helps you understand.
And if anything I write on this blog from here on out makes it seem like I am doing anywhere near OK: I am misleading you, and I am sorry.
But it's time to talk about other things, and keep the sadness in my journal. You've paid your dues, and it's time to talk about the funny things I notice in the day, and not the sadness I breathe every minute of the day.
Thanks for being there through this.
To send off this little era, here he is in a pointless, disappointing cameraphone moment that meant nothing then (and everything now). He had the tendency to be a little oblivious, especially when it looked to him like I was just texting. I kept wishing he'd look over and instantly do something inappropriate. Nope. Clueless and candid. Warning: nothing, I repeat nothing, happens in this video. But when I found it deep in the hard drive of my phone thinking I'd accidentally deleted it, I was pretty happy. You can watch it if you are super bored.
*OK, here's some background to the video and I put it in my comments but I think I will just put it in the body of the post as it's kind of cute. About 2 minutes after this moment, he looked back to see one of the axles smoking from the pup trailer. He was so mellow as he pulled over to check it out and put a quick fix on it to hold him over until he could get it in the shop. The repairs probably came to more than they even made on the load. He just shrugged it off. (It was such a fun day, he let me in the little shack where they start the pump and let me push all the buttons.) After he got back in the drivers seat, he had me come sit behind him in it, and rub his shoulders. He was so excited, thinking his life was so perfect. He just lost his whole profit and had to work all night, but he was in hog heaven anyway. Such a sweet memory.
I had remembered taking this little clip about a month ago and scoured my phone and computer for it. I looked through all the hidden folders on all my SD cards that could have been in my phone when I snapped this. For weeks I had thought I'd lost it. I stumbled across it when looking in another folder. It had been accidentally moved to some folder with clips of Lolo at the arts festival, of all things.
The day I found this was the day I found out they had the Red Book. It was the cherry on top. It's funny what silly things will mean something to you later.
Man, I love him.
I will read anything that you write, because I think that you are amazing. Nuff said.
ReplyDeleteI don't think that's gross at all. I would do the same thing with Adam's things. It's not the "grossness" that's comforting. It's a reminder of him.
ReplyDeleteI hope that you have people you feel like you can talk to. Even strangers on the Internet, who are in your shoes, would probably be helpful.
You have every right to be in pain. I was talking to my friend Ally the other day who lost her love 4 years ago and still misses him dearly. He was killed in a house fire. She also wasn't able to physically say goodbye either. She tries to think of the positive, the happy moments... I dont know if that will help I dont think anything will. I love what you write and I cry every time. I miss him too. In a different way. He's all around us. He fixed the K rail disaster with Incident boy. He looks after us... heaven forbid that the "lost Boys" be left on their own. Simple questions I still ask out load. Sometimes is reassurance when I find the answer by myself. I love the phone video. There is nothing sexier than a man climbing into a big truck.... the way they shift the truck.. Big trucks are sexy!
ReplyDeleteI am glad you have that to watch...
tender hugs!
I feel like a blog stalker because I have never left a comment, I have only met you once and I read your blog all the time! I am Heather, I talked to you for just a minute at Jed's viewing right before his funeral. I was with my old roommate and we were really good friends with Jed in Provo. I am sure you do not remember much from that day but I just want to tell you I read your blog. I am glad you are so honest, I cannot imagine what you are going through! My greatest fear is to lose my husband, I am truly sorry for you, I wish there were better words to describe to you the sympathy and love I have for you eventhough I only know you through your blog!! Jed was such a great friend to me so many years ago and I feel so lucky that I got to know him so well all those years ago! I am glad he got to be with his true love until the day he died! I hope the Lord blesses you with strength and comfort through this time and the years to come!
ReplyDeleteHaha Erin, don't I know it. This was in Jake Meng's pete, hauling doubles of Mag.
ReplyDeleteAnd so it is... You have hit that mark where it becomes a little socially unacceptable to keep talking about the truckload of pain that you still carry, EVERY, SINGLE day. This is not a pleasant phase at all. Life does go on, but it doesn't go on for the person grieving as quickly as it does for everyone else. It makes you feel like people are waiting on you and you are disappointing them, because you are still lagging behind in sadness.
ReplyDeleteConsider this... It takes roughly 18 years to reach physical maturity and really more like 30 to 40 years to reach emotional maturity. How long do you think it should take a person to rebuild a piece of their emotional and (physical in a sense) selves when such a large part is ripped out? It's a LONG process.
I suspect that you are picking up on subconscious cues from other people and maybe some that are totally in your face, about it being time to move on, but here's what you do... Tell them to fuck off!!! You can be angry and a mess and bloody pathetic for a good long time, before anyone has ANY right to expect any different. It's not ok to expect you to be ok.
I know it's probably hard for your really good friends and family to see you feeling so sad. That's why you have a blog. Your blog isn't here to entertain. It's your therapy and it should be the place that you can go to and express exactly how much it still hurts. Express the good, funny things too, but holy shit.. do NOT stop letting out the hurt. It's ok. It has to come out too.
I'd hate to see you pushing yourself in a direction you feel you should be going when you aren't ready, because you feel like it's what people want to see or read. You are so genuine and honest and that is why people connect to you. NOT, because we think you are doing OK. It's totally cool for you not to be. I'm still reading.
Hugs! T
P.S. Sorry for using the "F" bomb, but it's how I feel. And... to let you in on a secret, it's one of my favorite words, though I know it's totally trashy. Nothing feels quite as good an letting it off when it's justified.
Although I've never loved someone enough to cuddle their dirty underwear, it seems like a natural thing. If that was it, I would hold on to it and defend it with all my might.
ReplyDeleteDon't stop sharing with us. If you need to take it down a notch for you do that. But if you need to keep writing it keep writing it.
I don't come to your blog to be entertained. (Although you are an amazing writer and I never fail to marvel at how fluidly you weave every topic and aside together.) I come because I like you. I like you in all your pain, and all your joy, and all your flatulence (hey why not?).
Share with us. We're here to be shared with.
It's really late, and I'm not sure this comment made as much sense once I wrote it down as it did when I was thinking it.
Here's to getting through tomorrow.
I'm sending hugs your way too.
LOL!!! The problem is that I know what you are talking about! That sound before they "glide" it into gear.. Its prolly the damn pup he wanted to sell me! Kidding. We were talking about me leasing a set so I could run for Geodyne.. I didnt have trailers of my own. Funny we both didnt know we knew Judd Kemp.
ReplyDeleteIf you really want to move on here, it's your blog. But I don't think your readers care if you want to continue to pour it all out. Your pain has to go somewhere, and this is as good a place as any. Your journal is good, too, but it can't talk back. And your friends and family can't take a few days to ponder what to say before saying it, and then re-write it ten times or more before posting it, as we blog-landers can.
ReplyDeleteIt's easier for us out here, who mostly don't know you IRL, to handle what's really going on in your head than it is for those close to you. See, when you know someone, and you love someone, and you have to see the unrelenting grief in that person's face every time you see them, you want to fix it. And you can't. And you want to say something to make it better, but there's nothing you can say. And it gets uncomfortable for the non-griever, because human beings can only handle such sadness for so long when it isn't one's own sadness. And so we try to inappropriately hurry the process along in order to relieve our own discomfort at not being able to remove the pain from our loved one.
I think you will find that those who persist in insisting that you "get over it" will drop out of your life, and those who remain will be those who have an incredible talent for empathy, and those who have been there themselves.
Oh, and us internet people. Because we can read of your pain without having to see your pain, which makes it easier for us to take somehow. We mourn for you, and we mourn with you, but the burden for us is less than that carried by your close friends and family, who must see your tears and fight the urge to look away.
We want to hear of your joys and successes and silliness, but please don't feel you can't talk about your grief anymore.