FullaBella's Journal, 27 November 2013

Second Journal Wednesday November 27th. After reading all of the very kind private messages and comments on my journal I felt a need to continue journaling and allowing the thoughts to pour out of me much like my tears (were). This may read as more of the same and it is long. I understand completely if you don't have the time to read or reply. I just have more to get out of my head.

During the phone calls to his friends and family last night at some point I found myself delivering the news very quickly and saying 'all right now, I need to make more calls' because I could not really determine if the receiver was trying to console me or themselves. And as I'd recognized earlier this week, my patience had been reserved for only my husband for so long I have none for anyone else right now. I pray my reservoir will recover. Otherwise, I envision me being one of those cranky older ladies whacking people with my umbrella that I carry even when the sun is shining.

Everyone has offered 'if there is anything I can do' but after the BCF chili thing last weekend I'm letting that offering glide right by. I don't want to endure any more disappointment right now.

But the other side of that is there really isn't that much to do. I've been handling so much for so long almost entirely by myself I also know that some people DO want me to task them with something so they feel they are a part of this process but I cannot imagine 'what'.

I did think about getting a massage as one of my friends here suggested. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to make it thru it without crying. I'm sure it would be a release but I have worked so many years to put on a brave face for all around me I'm hesitant to let too many people see the crack in my armor right now. Laying on my bed last night I howled like a wounded animal. I'm sure I'll have more of those type releases in the days ahead.

Like yesterday, I would bounce back and forth between thanking God for being merciful to him (and me) to panicked thinking 'Oh my God, I'm finally alone. I'm really alone. I'm a widow. I'm no longer married.' and I would start sobbing but when a family member called, the physician came to pronounce him deceased or the funeral director came to pick him up I found myself jerking back into 'responsible calm caretaker mode.' I've had to stand by so many years and watch as he endured painful procedures and indignations and have logical unemotional discussions with physicians and surgeons I have learned to shut off my emotions like a light switch.

Even his home health nurse, I'm sure trying to assure me that it was okay, said 'It's nice to know superwoman does cry now and then.' I reflected on just how 'have' people been perceiving me in person because I've always saved my crying, my reactions, my venting for private. Or at least, until I came here and let it all flow into my journals.

It's odd... thinking about going to do something and not needing to arrange for a sitter. I feel lost that I could just get up right now and get in the car and go somewhere without begging my stepdaughter to make time for her father in her life.

My business, and again, I cannot reveal what it is - ironic too as I can discuss death and weight with such candor but need to protect the specifics of my real life - my business has inventory risks so it is not a place that I can comfortably easily leave for days at a time right now. I will be trying to figure out a way to secure the shop and inventory in a way to discourage burglary should I so decide to take Ms. Mushy and get away now and then.

My husband has been so worried about me, my safety, my security for so long some of it has tainted me. As another ironic cosmic joke, I finally ordered my yoga mat & equipment - it arrived yesterday. I sat it on the desk in the shop thinking 'oh well, so much for that now'.

Why? Because the only time we ever crated Mushy was when we were both gone - and that was when my husband was in the hospital. Otherwise, he's always been here when I left. She has had the run of the home. I KNOW it's ok. I KNOW pets are crated for their safety and often left all day long. She's a little dog weighing about 25lbs and has two crates, one for a dog her size and one large enough for a shetland pony. I know I could put her food and water in the crate and leave her for hours if need be; she is housebroken and I know her potty schedules and that she 'can' hold it.

I'm going to have to LEARN to do that. A new challenge. I know she can because when my husband was in the hospital for months she'd be here at home in her crate for many hours and did fine. I was thinking how my RL friend and I still have two more theatre tickets in the series. These were the days I'd leave home at 10am and not return until 7pm but it was fine because my husband was here with her (and she with him) and his daughter or grandsons throughout the day. I am going to have to adjust to letting her be alone for a few hours when I go places (she cannot).

But the other 'tainting' was the thoughts of my safety. I found myself thinking 'well, I couldn't possibly go out for Yoga now - it doesn't start until 5:30 and that won't put me home until after 7. ' I'd lived so long with, even when he was in the hospital, him saying 'I want you home and locked in and safe before dark.' And I have to remind myself that many times I would go to the hospital late at night and watch him sleep and in his illness created confusion he didn't really know the time or many times if I was even there.

I feel alone. I know you are all here for me but that old feeling of 'he's not on the other end of a phone, he's not going to be able to call me (when he was recovering from surgery and on life support) and I could be in a wreck or injured and no one would know for days.' Especially when I was battling so with the his daughter because she would not come to see him at the hospital so she wasn't talking to me. So alone.

I need to build a network of friends in my real life much like I've built here. People who will now feel able to phone me and not worry that I'm in the middle of taking care of him or waking him because he's resting. I need to begin scheduling regular events so people wonder about me if I don't show up for them. I need to find my own life now that I'm no longer caring for his.

I need to be as strong for myself as I was for him. I need to not be afraid just because the sun sets. I will be cautious and careful but I need to regain a life that may consist of something as shallow as browsing the clearance aisles for things I do not need or as nourishing as going to a museum or theater without requiring planning equivalent to invading a small country.

I need to remember he's really gone. I still keep forgetting. I keep looking at the clock, wondering if the hospital has brought him his breakfast and expecting that inevitable call complaining about it and asking when I'll be there.

I need to move on and I will. I will likely have many journals like these in days to come as I continue to process the end of a marriage that spanned nearly 25 years. I will understand if you don't read every day. I am just trying to continue with the journaling process that has helped me so much in the past year.

Bella