Today was one of those days where I would text you about how frustrated and annoyed I was at work. Ramp started and getting ready to launch--which is always stressful and crazy. (I can talk about it since it leaked all over the news today!! I’m neither confirming nor denying anything. This reminds me of when some of your coworkers and/or friends would ask you questions about rumors of new products that might be launching and you told them you didn’t know anything about it. And they would say, “How do you not know? Doesn’t your wife tell you anything?” And you would say to them, “Nope, she doesn’t tell me anything, even when I ask her.” Then you would come home and tell me what your coworkers and/or friends asked you; just to see if I would tell you anything. There were also a few times when you emailed me articles about product rumors / leaks and asked if I had any comments. I would always respond with, “I love you!”) Anyways, back to my day, it was like being in a kitchen with a lot of chefs preparing for a wedding but there isn’t any clear guidance or instructions. Everybody is just doing their own thing in a vacuum and not talking to each other. I thought I was going to go ballistic. By lunchtime, I still hadn’t even finished reading my emails from the morning, and the more emails I read, I grew more and more frustrated and annoyed (I couldn’t tell if my low patience level was due to pure frustration or just angst from the previous night couple with lack of sleep--either way, my patience was tested today). It was a good thing that today was spin class at the gym--it allowed me to cycle out all my angst during lunch time. I literally had to channel you through the entire spin class and think about all the things you would say to calm me down.
You always liked to call me 'chaos.' You always said, “Chaos is home,” whenever I walk through the door, especially since the animals went crazy and out-of-control when I get home. I'm definitely 'chaos,' but I would like to call myself “organized chaos.” I maybe chaos, but there’s always a method to my madness. You were always the anchor that held me steady when the storm and chaos is raging around me. You never let the storm rage on or the chaos spin out of control for too long--you always knew how to pull me in, get me focused. You were always my anchor, they held me steady and balanced (which as you know is no small feat). I always found this inner strength and calmness after as our relationship grew that never existed before I met you. (Ask anybody who knew me before you, they would agree.) However, whenever I'm away from you for a long period of time or don't get to hear your voice regularly, I get anxious and starting feeling unhinged; like a hurricane is that is about to start spinning out of control until I hear your voice. I don't even have to say anything or tell you about it, but just hearing your voice always brings me back to that calm and collected state. (Honestly, I don’t even know how I’m even going through this without you by my side. Maybe it's all the conversations I have with you inside my head and through these letters that is getting me through. I don't even know!) After you passed, I saw this advertisement for a t-shirt that says, “October 1978, 40 years of being sunshine mixed with a little hurricane.” It made me think of you since I could hear you saying, “SY, that is so you!! But you’re more hurricane than sunshine though!” Then you would give me that look you make with your eyes and quirky smile before you start laughing at me as I roll my eyes at you and fake a 'you think you're so funny' laugh.
Coming back home and being greeted by grief has been hard. The last couple of days have been blah. It’s like coming back from a vacation; it takes awhile to adjust from vacation mode to reality, especially when your reality is a nightmare you’re trying to wake up from. Being away, in a familiar place with no memories associated with you, made me feel like I was normal again. It was easier to believe that I was on a work trip and you were at home waiting for me to come home. Since being back from China, I get these mini panic attacks that I have to snap myself out of when it hits me that you died. It wasn’t like I forgot you died, but since I wasn’t feeling the intense pain and grief most of the day like I do in my new normal, feeling it creep back and continue to ebb and flow like the waves was unsettling. It's like being ambushed by a surprise attack. At times, it feels like the first couple weeks of widowhood, but I’m not crazy or delirious, since it’s the second time around, I know what to expect around the corner so it doesn't hit me as hard. But the emotions of how I felt when it first happened is flooding back. The sharp and intense pain in my heart and stomach is back, and everytime I close my eyes, I see your face and all I can think about is the look you gave me when you gripped my shoulders before you got on the gurney. I can’t even image the fear you were feeling and the thoughts that were racing through your mind at that instant. Honestly, the only thing that keeps me sane and makes this journey and experience even bearable is the feeling in my heart that you will be home soon. I don’t think I could deal with the pain and grief if I didn’t have that to hold on to. Anything else would be unbearable.
These last few weeks, I feel like I’m hiding behind the blog and all I want to do is write, but all I can focus on is my pain and grief. You’re probably asking, “Why don’t you write about our happy memories??” Well babe, just to let you know, writing about our story and sharing our happy memories is actually really difficult. I have to channel a lot of inner strength and energy to write about the happiness we used to share together that was abruptly taken from me, while the pain, sadness, and grief writes itself. It flows freely like the tears that continue to flow out of my on a daily basis. Yesterday, I made a conscious effort to not write, but I couldn’t fall asleep because of all the thoughts racing around in my head that didn’t have an outlet to express itself. I laid in bed for hours and couldn't fall asleep until after 2am, but I refused to write unless it was to tell our story or the happiness we shared. But, now I realize, I can’t stop myself from crying or make the pain and sadness stop by forcing myself to feel a certain way. So, I just have to let myself feel what I feel and write whatever comes out and not force anything to happen before it’s ready to happen. (Even though at times, I can barely read what I’ve written since it’s too much even for me and I’m living it!!)
A grieving widow who is trying to find meaning and purpose from her tragic event.