Remembering Dan

• Because of Dan?

  07Aug
  Categories: Grieving Comments: 3

  The computer, my clothes, my cup, the way the cheese melts on my pizza . . . it all seems to be reminding me today of the life we once had.  I’m trying to get ready for school and I cry, wondering who is going to help me.  Who do I go to to talk things over and get his opinion?  Who will relieve me from some of the pressures after a long day so that I can take a minute to pull myself together?  Who will fix this stupid computer when it gives me fits?  Who will tell me there has got to be a better way?  Who will give reinforcement?  Who will tell me I am doing a good job (and I will think it’s high praise coming from him)?  Why do I even bother when there is no one there to gloat over my achievements and brag about his kids?  Will his kids feel the same way? Who will sign the report cards?  I did so much for him, with him in mind, . . . is that wrong? 

  Someone commented on the way we did something the other day and the only reason I could come up with for doing it that way was because that’s the way Dan liked it.  That just doesn’t seem to be good enough anymore. 

  And if that’s not good enough then what is?

• Sorry, Dan

  03Aug
  Categories: Single Parenting Comments: 2

  I find myself apologizing to Dan on a regular basis lately. 

  For instance, I find the pressures of running a house and a family to be such that it’s difficult for me to just stop and play with the kids (didn’t used to be quite so hard).  I used to grouch at Dan for not spending enough time with them.

  Sorry, Honey.

  Another example – I see the trash is full as I run past it, arms outstretched to avert another disaster waiting to happen, and I see it again as I go by, my arms loaded down with things that need to be somewhere else.  It’s when that piece of paper falls to the floor the second and third time that I realize that it also qualifies as an emergency and that crying baby will just have to wait while I take the trash out.

  My apologies, Sweetheart.

  Even now – I look at my desk, covered with projects, bills, tasks to be done and I wince and wish I could somehow beg for forgiveness for even thinking a disparaging thought about Dan’s desk.

  It’s amazing what “walking a mile” in someone else’s shoes will do for a person’s outlook on life.

• Hugs

  03Aug
  Categories: Grieving Comments: 2

  The longing for his touch is so great that I find myself avoiding my bed tonight.  The desire to hide in a romance novel or a sappy movie is stronger than my desire for sleep, but I’m still fighting.  Unfortunately, it is the children who suffer from nights like this.  Mom gets grouchy and testy without her sleep.  I find it difficult to handle their need for hugs when my quota is so low.  It’s strange . . I’m longing for a hug, but don’t want to be touched. 

  Afraid I’ll break, maybe?

  Looking for a specific hug and imitations just won’t do?

  Need a “big people” hug rather than multiple little hands and faces demanding more from me.

  I think I’ll sleep on the floor.