There are days when I think about blogging, days I think about doing laundry, days I think about taking the girls to the movies and forgetting everything else that needs to be done around here.
There is so much to be done, so much stuff to unclutter.
There is a lot of mental cleaning I need to do too, and I find that to be the most difficult.
Right now, Carys likes to believe that Chad is at work and is on his way home.
This is especially difficult for me to handle.
She knows he is not coming home.
But it helps her to believe that he is, usually around dinner time.
We always had dinner together, at the table. Every single day.
And I know that is a particularly hard thing for her.
She wants our family back, as do I.
I am not indulging her fantasy, but try to talk to her about it instead.
We have an appointment with the children’s grief counselor this week, so I hope to get a little assistance in how to handle this.
Cailyn is doing very well, although she does pretend that Chad is all around us sometimes.
I suppose that he is, technically.
But she likes to pretend he is in the car with us, at the store with us, out to eat with us.
She doesn’t get weepy or upset; but she does insist that he is playing a game of hide-and-seek with us almost daily.
Again, I will be getting some help with this later this week.
I definitely understand that Chad’s death is more than they can handle at times.
It’s more than anyone should have to handle.
Last week, I happened across a bottle of Chad’s favorite cologne.
He wore it all the time, until the scent made him nauseous over the last year or so.
So, he wore it sparingly until the bottle was empty and we never bought any more.
I purchased the bottle and brought it home, intending to share it with the girls (and myself) when we were having a particularly difficult day remembering the details of Chad.
I sprayed my wrists with it and got teary-eyed each time I would catch a whiff throughout the day.
Cailyn noticed the scent too, and before I knew it, I was spraying her tiny wrist with “Daddy’s smell”.
Of course, Carys followed suit once she got home from school.
I’ve caught them in my bedroom, standing perfectly still, taking turns inhaling the intoxicating aroma of the cologne.
They understand it’s special and they genuinely feel comforted.
As do I.
Scents definitely bring back intense memories.
I am doing the best I can.
Even though I didn’t thoroughly enjoy the holidays like I normally do, I was thankful I had something in which to focus my time and energy. I had Christmas shopping, tree decorating, holiday parties. There was always something to keep me busy.
Now, it’s just quiet. School is in, friends are back to work, traveling is over.
It’s so very, very quiet.
Just me and my thoughts.
Which isn’t the best situation – I need something to do that doesn’t include cleaning the house or rearranging memories and furniture.
I’ll be completely honest in saying that the emotions seem to hit me out of nowhere and make me feel like I am losing my mind sometimes.
I feel generally impulsive, sometimes detached, sometimes alive, sometimes super-sensitive, sometimes I lack patience, sometimes nothing at all.
I say and do things that aren’t me, things I don’t fully understand. I feel things that I didn’t expect.
Like anger? Not really.
I guess that is hard for some people to understand, but I’m not angry at God or at Chad or at anyone else.
I have so many other emotions that I don’t think anger has a place to fit in around it all.
In my weakest moments, I am more disappointed than anything else. But angry? No.
I think my lack of anger has a lot to do with the way Chad chose to handle this whole situation.
He had a brief period of anger, which he had every right to experience.
And then one day, he just decided he was spending too much energy being angry over something he had no control over.
This time period was shortly before he was given a terminal diagnosis, when he was unable to work or drive or provide for his family in the ways he thought he should be able to.
He told me that there was sense in being angry and that life was never promised to be fair; “It is what it is; life keeps on going.”
It would not be helpful for me to sit around and be angry.
Probably like it’s not helpful for me to sleep as much as I can and never get out of my pajamas unless critically necessary.
But I think sleeping and pajama time is a little less damaging than being angry all the time.
At least I like to think it is.
This week I have a goal to focus on: the girls & I need insurance.
We haven’t had insurance since the end of November, when Chad’s policy ran out.
And I am extremely thankful that no one has been sick or has needed anything other than a band-aid or a kiss to make it better.
It just makes my stomach twist in knots to see the premiums we’ll pay. Talk about something that does make me ANGRY…
We could carry over Chad’s insurance, but I’m not convinced it’s the lowest rate for us. So, I’m on a mission.
This week, pray for me to find insurance that won’t make me physically ill each time the premiums are due.
Pray for me to find the focus to feed my children healthy meals – instead of offering cereal or takeout.
Pray for me to find my patience, even in increments of 5 minutes per day.
Pray for me to find sleep at regular hours, instead of spread throughout the day – when I should be doing something else.