FullaBella's Journal, 30 November 2013

Saturday - November 30th - 4am and I've been up for over two hours. I'm now sitting in Cutty's chair sipping sleepy time tea hoping the muscle relaxer kicks in and I can go grab a few more hours of sleep.

I didn't get out of my pj's until 5pm yesterday and that was only because I wanted to go look at living room furniture for my SD. I'm a little aggravated the 'other' furniture store refuses to take back the $1400 adjustable bed I bought for Cutty, the one he was in less than a week. I can get the whole 'he slept on it' but they won't even give me an in store credit for the frame. Monday I'm going to ask my attorney for his opinion. That's too bad if they don't; we've bought a lot of furniture from them for over 15 years for us and the kids but that business relationship is over as they've forgotten the concept of customer loyalty. Typing this just now gave me an idea. I think I'll research the company and write or contact the owner directly. I think the latest new manager (effective Friday) probably lied to me when he said he did contact the owner and ask. Something about his tone when he phoned me. As I often write: this is why I journal.

7am now - I did manage to go back to bed a grab a couple of hours sleep. Mushy is sleeping so tightly pressed against me lately I'm humanizing her again with 'she knows and she's cuddling for comfort'. Typically one or two leg pushes or playing with her feet and she'd scoot over to 'Daddy's side' in defense but not now. Maybe I'll need to take that side of the bed, eventually.

At 'the only other furniture store in town' my SD picked out a reclining love seat with the center console and I am seriously considering one here in my own living room to replace the recliners with the table between them. A different look for Bellawood. I continue to balance out the moments of panic and grief at the reality that I'm 'all alone now' with the realization of possibilities that comes with I'm "all alone now."

Some parts are still very sad. Looking at the refrigerator with the French doors I'd been considering recently was overwhelming. It seemed SO Large for just 'widowed me' now. No way I needed that much space for my own food as I plan to continue with my refrigerator reform instituted this summer. I do think I may start having the occasional 'Sunday Dinner at Moms' now that we won't be disturbing Cutty or making him tense with a room full of loud people. That will help me use a lot of that pantry food they don't mind eating although I will still eat fresh.

But in balance, pulling out the many boxes of framed pictures from storage, pictures I'd displayed at our previous home but Cutty did not want hanged here because he didn't want the hammering or the holes in the walls, I thought 'well, it's my decision now and that's why they make putty and paint ((to cover the holes later)). I picked up a beautiful frame last night to give new life to one of my favorite photos of us - it was taken about 15 years ago at a Chili Cook-off before he became so ill. In the photo he's kissing me but you can tell I was still yakking away and I have my index finger pointed as if still in mid-nagging.

I put it on the wall this morning at 4am, waiting for the 'what's that damn banging and you know how I feel about holes in the wall reprisal' and accented it on each side by some new wall art with little 'messages' One reads 'Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away' and just now typing that I realized there is a double meaning as he had so much trouble breathing, period. The other reads 'Life takes us to unexpected places, love brings us home' and that too touched me because he'd always be accepting and encouraging of my corporate travel 'as long as I remembered to come home now and then.'

Mindful eating has stayed with me throughout this so far. Yesterday I didn't eat until 6pm (we went for Sushi after the furniture store). How odd, how weird as I sat down at the table and immediately pulled out my cell phone within view 'in case Cutty phoned' because he always did. Even odder as I didn't feel the need to eat in a hurry and we just meandered at the mall later. It was after 8pm when I returned home. I had cottage cheese and berries before bed because I truly felt hungry again. I'm not sure what I felt at midnight when I grabbed two Fig Newtons after letting Mushy go potty resulted in setting off the security alarm. I sure don't need a Pavlovian response forming like that 'sirens equate eating'.

Speaking of Pavlovian responses, I think Mushy is trying to tell me she too will be okay in her crate while I'm gone for a while to ease my concern of having to retrain her. She'd began equating 'Mommy's keys are jingling, she must be going somewhere" with automatically getting in her crate. Another prayer of gratitude expressed to God. I'd prayed so much he would give me the strength needed during this chapter and he is giving it to me.

When I was telling my 'sort of sister (a story for another journal) of Cutty's mood swings toward the end especially with his dropping and spilling and asking the same question repeatedly and borderline verbal abuse, she said 'I don't know how you did it, I wouldn't have had the patience.'

I reflected on how so many times I've journaled of being at my wits end with him and trying to hold my temper until I could escape to my bathroom or scream into a towel in the laundry room but never really experienced that feeling that much in the past month. I recognized God was protecting both of us during this time as well as he gave me a wealth of patience needed to pick up the dropped things, mop up the spilled things and still be able to cradle Cutty in my arms with true love and affection. That gift has helped me move through these days without guilt. I'm not amnesic, I remember times this year of expressing my frustration at him but not in the past few months. Timing is everything.

My SD continues to search for 'what happened' as if it's a puzzle. She IS dealing with her own guilt for her lack of participation in his life toward the end. I'm not really sure if I can help her with that nor do I need to. She has her Father's gift of 'rewriting history in her own mind' and I'm sure within a month or so she'll be telling the story that 'she was with him to the end.' She'll leave out the parts that she only did that because I PHONED her and said 'you really need to come home NOW' despite her callous absence for two days preceding. Yes, I'm still trying to balance my resentment with the knowledge that I need to forgive, forget and move on.

And life goes on. When I sit quietly and read your comments on my journals and private messages, I pray more gratitude. For this to be 'all things food' I have to repeat, as so often expressed in my journals, this community is so much more. I'm blessed to have found this site and have been incredibly blessed with the people here. You are all such great people I'd invite you over for dinner and wouldn't even serve you the processed food from the pantry.

Love,
Bells