Pain has turned to anger...

Babe,

I’m hella mad at you right now.  I kept thinking about the sequences of events and all the subtle signs we should have taken more seriously, and I was playing it over and over in my head today at work.  Now that I had some time to process and the shock and jet lag is starting to wear off, I got really upset. I wanted to just leave work and find the highest mountain top to scream and yell at you!!  I wanted to yell, “Why didn’t you just go to the hospital on Wed, Thurs, Fri, or even Sat?!” Would that have made a difference?? Would you still be alive, instead of being inside a box full of ashes and unanswered questions??  I will never know, but I'm sure I will always wonder this for the rest of my life. I now realize you knew something was off the last few days before you passed, but you reasoned them all away with some sort of excuse like “the chest pain is from the bruised bones” or “I need to start working out again since I’m out of breath so quickly now” or “I need to get an EKG in my next physical” or “remind me to make another follow-up appointment with my doctor.”  You said all these things the morning you passed or just days before, but you didn’t think any of these things were urgent or serious enough to go the ER because everything seemed so minor and insignificant. AND, I decided that this was going to be the one time I would be the “cool wife” because I didn’t want to make you feel worse for worrying me after the accident, and to be quite honest, I was just so happy that you were still alive and didn’t get hurt or injured worse that I wanted to give you a pass from the naggy wife.  That night after we got back from the ER on the day of your motorcycle accident, you called my name when you needed something after waking up from a nap. I don’t know what come over me, but when I walked into the bedroom to find out what you needed, before I could say anything, I just started crying. You gave me a hug and apologized for worrying me and commented on how well I handle the situation, better than you would have ever imagined. I asked you to not ride the motorcycle anymore but you said, “You don’t just stop after one bad fall.”  Now when I look back, I wonder, “What the heck was I thinking?!” I should have nagged and pestered you until you went to the ER again when you started experiencing chest pains instead of trying to be cool because you commended me on how well I handled the situation, and I should have fought harder about never riding the motorcycle again (well this point is moot now).  I know you probably didn’t want to overreact, and I get that all the signs and symptoms were so minor--so seemingly insignificant and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but you also knew something wasn’t quite right with you either.  I just want to yell at the top of my lungs on the highest mountain top, “How can you do this to me?!  How could you leave me here all alone to fend the world by myself when maybe you didn’t have to?! Why is this universe so cruel?!  Why did the universe take you away from me?!  Why couldn’t we just have more time with each other?!  What did we do or not do to deserve this fate?!  WHY?!”  But then I realized, my “duracell powered car,” as you liked to call it, wasn’t finished charging (yes babe, I used the app to check if my car was finished charging), which meant I didn’t have enough juice to drive around looking for the highest mountain top to yell, “I’m right again and you should have listened to me!!” without getting stranded in the middle of nowhere.  So, I just let it all simmer and finished the rest of the workday. Oh yeah, I’m going to say it (my famous line to you in this type of situation), “Your life would be so much easier if you would just listen to me since I’m always right!!”  Yup!  I said it!!  And, I mean it too!! 

Did you know, when I got home, I wanted to take all your stuff and throw it outside in front of the house to tell the world how mad I am at you like in the movies when a wife finds out her husband is cheating on her.  I wanted to say to people as they walked by the front yard, “How could he do this to me?! I hate him so much for doing this to me!?!”

Oh yes, I’m so going there.  I’m going to start making a running list of all things I need to settle with you when I see you next:

• You died and made me a young widow.  (I told you I would kill you if you ever made me a young widow)
• I asked you to start minimizing and living a more minimalist lifestyle so it wouldn’t be a chore or burden on anyone to have to purge our stuff when we die.  You didn’t listen to me at all.  I went into your manroom and saw all sorts of stuff that you purchased and hid in there. You still had a trunkload of packages that arrived after you passed.   How do I know it was a trunkload? Because I put them in my car without opening them and asked YA to return them all (except for the Black Santa you wanted so badly but didn’t buy in time to put up last Christmas since you were still searching for an Asian Mrs. Claus.  I told you an Asian Mrs. Claus was non-existent but you refused to buy the white Mrs. Claus and kept searching, but Christmas came and passed. You finally gave in and ordered the Black Santa the weekend you passed.)  Yes, I know it was a good thing YA made me open the packages on the street before I gave them them to him to return.  He said, "Just go through them in case it's something you might need and want to keep."  Reluctantly, I agreed.
• You didn’t listen to me when I asked you to go to the hospital.  You know, for the longest time, I felt bad that the last thing I said to you when I came out and saw you on the floor was, “I told you to go to the hospital earlier” before I dialed 911.  You got up on your knees and gave me that “I can’t believe you just said that when I’m trying to fight for my life” look.  It’s a good thing you were fighting for your life and could barely talk because we probably would have started battling right then and there like in Cuba when you were trying to check me over for broken bones and injury when I fell off the horse.  Now, I’m glad I said it. I’m glad that the last words you heard me say was, “I told you so!”

Yeah, the therapist did said the angry stage will come (since I kept telling her I haven’t felt the 'angry' stage of grief yet).  YUP!! Now, it’s here and in full force!! Let’s see how long it lasts and if I could ever forgive you for leaving me like this. 🤬🤬🤬

P.S. You betcha...I'm definitely going to find me a new and improved Sean 2.0 now!!!  Someone who will listen to me 100% of the time because he will be smart and know what's best for him!!  Happy Life, Happy Wife!!