GOOD-BYE BABE
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My Journey
Hi Babe,
Well, it looks like I survived Thanksgiving. I wanted to spend it on my own terms. I didn’t want to deal with a lot of people. I didn’t want to put on a smile and “fake it until I make it.” I just wanted to have a quiet day to allow whatever emotions surface the freedom to come without the pressure of an audience “watching, assessing, and judging” me. I know people can’t help it, and they don’t mean to, but sometimes, I feel like I’m living in a fishbowl and everybody is watching, trying to assess my mental state, trying to figure out what they should or should not say around me. Like I need to be handled with kit gloves. Like they need to be respectful by putting on a solemn face whenever I’m around. If I crack a “my husband is dead” joke, they shriek in horror while I’m rolling on the floor laughing. Hello People?!, my husband died, but I haven’t lost my sense of humor!! I know it’s morbid, but F*** just laugh, okay?! I was at dinner with some friends awhile ago, and everybody went around the table asking how everybody was doing and what’s new in their life, but of course, no one once asked how I was doing or whether there was anything new in my life. I guess people just think widows are a pity party, and they don’t expect us to have anything new or good to share in our life anymore. Anyways, enough of my rant, back to Thanksgiving. EE cooked Thanksgiving dinner; we ate, played board games, and watched holiday themed movies. I wanted to start decorating for Christmas but it rained all day Thursday and Friday, so I opted for postponing decorating for the holidays to tomorrow when it dries up. But, I did put up your Black Santa!! The 8 feet tall inflatable Black Santa that you purchased and arrived after you passed. You found it last year, but you refused to purchase it until you found a 6 feet tall Asian Mrs. Claus (and it had to be a 6 feet tall Asian Mrs. Claus so the height difference and race was proportional to us). You were on the hunt with your coworkers, but you were never able to find the Asian Mrs. Claus (even though I kept telling you that you will never find an Asian Mrs. Claus since Asian people don’t care about these things and are perfectly happy with putting up a White Santa and Mrs. Claus). I knew how badly you wanted inflatable holiday decorations because each year you would talk about it and I always say, “Babe, it will get stolen the night we put it up!! Why waste the money?! And they’re not cheap either!!” You always reluctantly agreed. I think, you hoped that one year I would say, “Okay Babe, go ahead and buy that $150, 10 feet inflatable snowman even though it will get stolen in less than a week after we put it up!!” But of course, I never ever said that!!! Last year was the first time we lived in a neighborhood where there was a high likelihood that the inflatable holiday decorations would not get stolen off our front yard. So, you were so excited and started looking for inflatable decorations, and I even said, “Okay!!” So, I was so surprised when you didn’t buy the Black Santa when you couldn’t find the Asian Mrs. Claus. I thought you would give up looking after a week and just buy the Black Santa, but you stood firm and refused. Well, Christmas came and went, and we didn’t have inflatable holiday decorations in our front yard. The week after Christmas, I finally talked you into buying the inflatable Black Santa (because I knew how much you wanted it) by saying, “Babe, the Black Santa is on sale now, and you will have an entire year to look for an Asian Mrs. Claus.” And you responded with, “Oh, that’s a good idea!!” So, you purchased it, and it arrived shortly after you passed. And, just to let you know, it’s taller than the house, Babe!! Why am I not even surprised?! You’re not known for being subtle, that’s for sure!! I can’t help but feel like it’s you in a Santa suit greeting me whenever I come home now!! I missed you very much this week. Last night, I fell asleep on the sofa while we were watching TV, and when I woke up, I felt this sharp pain in my heart because it occurred to me that you died. Tears started to well up in my eyes and slowly rolled off my face. I haven’t felt this type of emotion since the first few months after you passed. Somehow, it’s really hitting me that you aren’t coming home again. Well, you’re probably wondering how the “great purge” went?! I think, overall, it went pretty well. I didn’t really do everything I wanted to do, but I think I did more than I realistically thought I would be able to do. But mainly, a lot of your stuff went to family and friends that came through this week to take whatever they wanted and could use. I think the hardest part for me was when the cleaning lady walked out with your stuff. I had to hold back the tears when she was leaving. Somehow, when your things was going to your family and friends, it didn’t feel as painful because I could rationalize that it was staying within the family. But when AC said, “I will take really good care of his things,” and walked out of the front door with your stuff, I stood in the hallway like my heart was being ripped from my body. I had to fight really hard to not cry, since I didn’t want her to feel bad. But, after she left and when I finally allowed myself, I was in tears. ⅔ of your things in the man room is gone and ½ of your things in the closet are gone. Before the “great purge,” I thought about all the things I would put in your side of the closet, so it wouldn’t look half empty or that something was missing. I wasn’t sure if I could bear seeing your part of the closet empty. But, as people were taking things off the rods and shelves, I realize that I need to leave your section of the closet empty. I need to get comfortable with living and looking at the emptiness, the loss, the pain, and the physical change in my life that screams, “You are no longer whole. You are no longer the person you were when your husband was alive. You are forever changed, whether you like it or not. You are a widow and he is never coming home. This is your reality now. You have to start accepting this reality even if you can’t get comfortable with it, especially if you want to survive this journey and breathe again!!” So, each morning, I look at your partially empty closet and wonder if I will survive this journey or will I get pulled in by the tidal waves of grief and drown to death!! I guess, only time will tell, right?! So, right now, it’s 1-0, your partially empty closet is in the lead!!
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AuthorA grieving widow who is trying to find meaning and purpose from her tragic event. Archives
July 2021
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