Getting ready to pack my bags...

Hey Babe,

Guess what?!  I won the Wonder Woman superhero award today for kicking ass on the launch!!  This reminds me of the time you bought a Wonder Woman action figure and left it on the dining table.  I came home and saw it, and I thought you bought it for me (you know, I was thinking you were trying to tell me how awesome I was by letting me know I was your Wonder Woman.  I mean you were spoiled and very well taken cared of, if you ask me!!), but no such luck! When you came home, I pointed at the Wonder Woman action hero and said, “Is that for me?!”  You said, “No, it’s for my desk at work. She’s the last character to complete the set I have at work!” Of course, I was disappointed, but wasn’t sure if you noticed it or not (probably not!!).  Well, needless to say, your entire DC comic action figure set belongs to me now (your work mailed a ginormous box of your personal belongings a month or so after you passed). I was expecting a small box containing your action heroes and milan cookies, twinkies, hostess cupcakes, and whatever sweets  you like to keep in your desk drawer at work (that I don't let you eat at home!).  What I wasn’t expecting was three more pairs of shoes!! (**SIGH** I can’t get away from your shoes, I swear!) It probably took me a month or more before I could even open the box your work sent. They contacted LH and told him they were going to mail it, so I would know to expect it. But still, when I got it, it was very hard.  I just left it in the corner of the house for a month or so before I could muster the nerve to open it. Even after I opened it, all the stuff still stayed in the box in the corner of the house.  The only thing I took out recently was your DC comic action figures. I put those in my craft room (and yes, I ripped them out of their packaging. In my defense, it looked like you did the same but taped them back up, so whatever value you thought they would retain in the packaging was gone anyways!).  Everytime I look at those action figures in my craft room (of course, Wonder Woman is front and center where she belongs!!), I think of you and how much I miss you. I let out a deep sigh and sometimes tears would roll down my cheeks. Then I would look around the craft room at all the photos and posters of quotes I put up to remind myself of who I was and am and who I want to be. I go and sit in the craft room often--it’s where I feel my deepest pain yet it also serves as my sanctuary and source of inspiration.  It’s like the duality of life, you can’t have happiness without the pain and sadness.

I’ve been finding it really hard to write to you lately.  It’s not because I’m out of words or pain or emotions to share; that’s definitely not it!  It’s more like I have too many thoughts and emotions, but they’re often conflicting and at odds with each other, so it’s hard to know how I’m really feeling.  I’m starting to feel like I’m getting back to myself, but I’m also constantly reminded that I still have a long way to go before I’m back to my usual self.  I can feel extreme pain at the most random moments and time, but still keep going like nothing’s wrong.  I can be laughing and crying all in the same breath now. Whenever there’s good news or something good happens, the happiness is always bittersweet since I think about how you're not here to share in the happiness.  There are also times when the craziest S*** happens, and I’m glad you aren’t here to witness it because you would be completely upset!  Then there are times where I feel the most acute pain and grief, but at the same time, I’m thankful that I’m still alive and living.  There are also moments where I literally feel my heart skipping a beat because it’s completely unfathomable that you aren’t here anymore even though I’ve been living without you for almost 5 months now. My therapist says I’m going through these dichotomy of emotions because I’m straddling two worlds now. I’m living in the middle room where I know you are gone but haven’t quite accepted that you aren’t coming home yet, while my hand is on the door that opens to the life that I have to live knowing that you are gone and aren’t coming home ever again.  I struggle because I don’t want to leave the middle room and the life we built, but I also know it’s a life that doesn’t makes any sense anymore and continuing to live it means I'm living in denial, but I can’t seem to move on until I feel like I’ve finished this chapter in my life. So, it’s the constant struggle of finding the right balance between what to finish and what to let go of (we had so many plans, does it even make sense to complete them all?!  But what should I finish?? and what should I say isn't worth the energy??  I have no clue, Babe!  Sometimes, I wish you would just come and visit me in my dreams and tell me what to do).

One thing the therapist keeps trying to emphasize is that I don’t have to walk away from this life in its entirety either.  I don’t have to walk through the door naked and stripped of who I am or everything we built together. Instead, I can pack my bags and take whatever I want with me from this life through the door.  So, that’s what I’ve been doing this last month. I’m getting ready to start packing for the next part of my journey. But, what my therapist doesn’t know is that I’m a hella light packer. I only pack the essentials; I never bring non-essential items on a trip.  I can go on a week long trip with just a carry on and still have clean clothes when I return!  She doesn't know it, but she has her work cut out for her.  I don’t know how many bags I can bring with me before I get charged, but I should assume any excess bag fees I have to pay will be worth it in the long-run.  This isn’t a journey where I want to forget anything.

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