There have been so many things I've wanted to say the last 2 months,so many emotions to convey, the depth of the pain,sorrow and anger but sometimes words just wouldn't come. Prayers wouldn't come. I can "write" posts in my head all day but when it comes to the end of evening and it's just me and the quiet.... just can't usually bring myself to tap it out. Grief is exhausting.
It's been two months today. I wanted to not even be aware of the date but it snuck in on me today. Usually on Mondays I might look at the clock at 11:30am ( last time I saw or talked to him) and again at 8pm( time of the accident) and I've even been woke up for various reasons around 2:40am on a Tuesday morning ( the time I woke up and realized something was wrong). Anxiety engulfs me at those times. When I go to bed at night, I hate it because I get very anxious. Coming downstairs to make a bottle or turn the heat up, or because I forget something and going back by that glass front door in the dark makes my blood run cold every single time. My heart beats faster and I feel lightheaded. The thought of those men on my doorstep induces panic. And it's not like anyone is ever going to be coming to that door to ruin my world again. And sometimes it's not the lack of his presence but the presence of his absence that lingers the most. That makes no sense, maybe it does if you know what this feels like. The thought of going to be one more time without him every night makes me stay up until 2 or 3 am sometimes.
We've begun healing though. By week 6 I had hit the absolute bottom of the pit, we had already been snowed in for a week up here, everyone passed the stomach virus around. I had one whole day when I was so sick I stayed in bed all day. Worst day so far. I cried all day. I can't just sit still, I can't let myself lay around and grieve like that ever again. I had weeks there at the beginning when I was on the brink of losing my faith, giving in to complete anger and hopelessness.... I would pray that either God would turn back time or just let a carbon monoxide leak take us all in our sleep. I wanted Heaven. I wanted out of this madness, the disbelief, the knowledge my children were fatherless, the knowledge that my Frank was never coming home. I wanted to die, I 'm sorry for admitting it, but it's true. I couldn't see a reason for any of us being here without him. One evening at dusk the sky looked really weird and Zoe said " It's the end of the world!" jokingly and I jumped up and yelled "WOOHOO,FINALLY!" And I wasn't joking. Hopelessness is a bad bad thing. I didn't realize you could feel such gut wrenching pain and still live. But apparently you can. I feel like the walking wounded. I feel like people can take one look at me and know " Something really horrible has happened to her." Pain that deep should leave a physical mark, right? It doesn't though.
But after week 6 I started getting little pieces of hope and I started clawing my way out of the deepest part of that pit. I came across an email he had sent me in Nov 2010, when he was away for 14 weeks for a school in Alabama and it's changed my life.....
11/15/10
Hey sweetie, Heard this song this morning. The lyrics really spoke to me about us.
Be strong in the Lord and, Never give up hope, You're going to do great things, I already know, God's got His hand on you so, Don't live life in fear, Forgive and forget, But don't forget why you're here, Take your time and pray, These are the words I would say, Last time we spoke, You said you were hurting, And I felt your pain in my heart, I want to tell you, That I keep on praying, Love will find you where you are, I know cause I've already been there, So please hear these simple truths,
I hope that you have a nice day! I love and miss you and really am praying that we are finished with the course this week and can start being a whole family again.
Frank himself gave me back hope. And I've been climbing out of that pit ever since. I started thinking about what he would say about all this, how I was handling things, what I should be doing with the kids, my future, etc. And it's helped. I still cry a lot some days. Some days I don't cry at all. Some days I still might be so angry that I want to scream, but they are fewer and farther between. I think the reality has sunk in as much as it can and acceptance is possibly starting to happen. I still don't believe it if I look at a picture of him for more than about 3 seconds. When I think about the details of the crash, I can't believe it. When I think about how in 30 years we're still going to be missing him and hating that he's gone.... it's hard to believe. But life is going on. The kids are dealing better than I expected. We still have some big issues. Behavior has been a challenge. Liam is the most heartbreaking thing around here right now. He's 3 and just doesn't get it. He cries and cries for his Daddy. " I need him! He needs me! He never comes back! I want my Daddy! My Daddy loves me, he needs to come back!" It's enough to make grown men cry and believe me, it has. He walks up to strangers and says things like "My dad died" or "My daddy is in heaven." The poor baby just doesn't understand. I pray someday soon he just forgets. His cries are more than I can bear. I hate this for me, but I hate it more for my poor kids. They didn't deserve this. If I could change this for anyone it would be for them.
So the big question everyone has for me is always "How ARE you guys?"
We're here. We're breathing. We get up every morning, we do what we're suppose to, we laugh, we cry, we yell, we don't understand, we hurt deeply. But we're okay. God has not left our sides. He has not burdened us and then left us all alone.
We're okay.
