What's it like to be a widow?

Alone.
Thankful and lucky for family and friends.
Lonely.
Missing your husband.
Having really good days for a long time.  Then you get hit with grief like a ton of bricks. People don't understand.  They don't know.
Not wanting people to feel sorry for you.
Having a day here and there where you feel sorry for yourself and feel guilty as hell.
Sad.
Trying to always find things that make you happy.
Alone.
Always wanting to stay busy so your mind doesn't wander.
Finally ready to love someone else and there's no one out there to love you back.
Not being a wife.
Having the worst label attached to your name.
Never wanting to explain your story all over again to someone who doesn't know you're a widow.
Missing having nothing to do with someone else.
Doing everything on your own.  Everything.  All the time. 
Always having to ask for help because you can't do everything.
Try not to feel guilty that you're doing something for yourself every time you do something for yourself.
Alone.
Not having a date to any event.
Always being the 3rd wheel. 
Feeling like you're a burden on everyone else.
Hate asking for help or when you need something.
Alone.
Frustrated.
Angry.
Pissed.
10% of the time you actually want to be alone and other people don't want you to.
Having other people pray for me, but I don't believe.
No one wanting to join our family.
Not having a real family.
Your daughter not having a dad.
Life is on hold.
Alone.
Dreams you had before the bad dream happened are on hold or will never happen.
Work to provide and live and not for your dreams.
Not being able to have another child in your near future or ever.
Not having someone to vent to that understands exactly what you are talking about and knows what to do to help you.
Not having random love notes for when you wake up.
Not having someone surprise you with your exact coffee order just when you need it.
Running errands with someone other than a child.
Alone.
Running errands by yourself.
Having to get a babysitter every time you want to do something by yourself and then feeling guilty you got a babysitter.
Losing your soul mate.
Going to events where it's all couples and you're not a couple.  You're a widow with a kid.
Seeing people in bad relationships and giving up when you didn't.
Seeing everyone else around you happy and having the life you had and want again.
Alone.
People saying that things will turn out.
People saying it was meant to be.
People saying it was God's plan.
People assuming I'm religious.
People assuming I'm always ok.
People thinking I'm over it.
People saying everything happens for a reason.
Alone.




3 years ago today I was nauseous from being 2 months pregnant.  Patrick planned a nice brunch at our favorite restaurant in Wauwatosa.  It was also Easter. He knew I wasn't feeling well and got me Prego Pops from the maternity store so I could actually try and eat.  As we are getting dessert, Creme Brulee, I am surprised by a gift card to the maternity store and a new charm for my Pandora bracelet.  It was a November birthstone for Olivia who was going to join us and make us a family 7 months later. 

Today I woke up way before my alarm.  Tired.  Was about to fall back asleep and a crying toddler with the terrible twos walked in.  We had a few breakdowns before we left for the day, (just like every day this week) thankfully on time.  Cried on the way to work.  Was welcomed to presents from my co-workers, a calla lily plant from a best friend, funny card from a friend, a white rose from my dad who said he was told to bring this to me from someone from heaven, lunch with friends, feeling sad all day, canceled my dinner plans and going out this weekend, grieving, feeling sorry for myself, being crabby to other people who don't deserve it, came home to tulips from my Godmother, card from a friend in the mail, opened and dumped two bottles of bad wine, ate leftovers, wrote this blog and cried.

I'm going to bed early.  I'll be ok in time.  I just need my time.  This sort of thing doesn't happen often and it just needs to go away.  I just wish I had Patrick here to hug me and tell me I'll be ok. 

I'm sorry to the people that was not nice to today.  I don't mean it.  It's just been one of those days I don't want to have again. 

Happy birthday to me.

Comments

  1. No apologies every needed, hon. Hell, I've been crabby for about 3 solid weeks - I mean, tear off a head and shit down that person's neck (sorry if I didn't know that person) - so I can't imagine what it's doing for you. You will hear that you are beyond amazing, and this blog only reaffirms it. And happy birthday, again.

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