Dear Darl, it’s 19 January, 2012

689 days….
OK – So I knew work was going to stuff me around.
I am telling myself it really is a better deal despite the short notice / no planning and despite the second (nutcase) teacher I now have to work with (the first one is awesome).
I am now also on class with the woman who neglected to mention your death to her then teaching partner.
God help me, but I need you to stop me from killing her in the next 11 months.
I know I can do this.
I know my boss thinks I can do this.
…and by next Wednesday, I will feel like I can do this.
But right now, I just see a heap of planning that I haven’t had time to do.

…and I know I’ll see the bright side tomorrow.

I miss you
I love you.
XA

Dear Darl, it’s 30 December, 2011.

669 days…

Lately, when I am on the treadmill in the mornings, I’ve taken to holding onto the bars, shutting my eyes and zoning out for the 40 or so minutes I’m on there for.  (The ‘holding on’ is necessary or I’ll fall off the blessed thing).

Well, OK, not all that time … I need to spend the first 5 minutes moaning, watching the timer countdown, watching my pulse rate climb from 72 to 155 bpm, and feeling like I may die any minute from the sheer exertion … but after that when I settle into a rhythm… I can zone out.

….and listen to music.

I’ve learned not to play The Luckiest or Last Day on Earth while I’m on  the treadmill though, or I can’t breathe for crying.

But this morning, Come Back Again by Daddy Cool was on the playlist and I remembered us dancing with wild abandon at a wedding.    Having fun with it.  Your strong arms around me. Busting out with silly crazy moves. Oblivious to all others.Laughing.

…and it was such s golden memory.

…but I really do need you to ‘come back again’

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

Dear Darl, it’s 25 December, 2011

664 days

Christmas Day …without you again.

But I got my Christmas present from you in that miraculous extra 20 minutes of sleep this morning ….via a vivid dream in which you were quite obviously dead, but still joking with me and holding me and generally chiacking about.

I managed to wake you up and your whole (dead) face just lit up when you saw me.  It was like coaxing someone out of a concussion … but you came out of it and were healthy and whole again within minutes … and ready to run amok.

It felt so good to see you, and have you hold me.

The best Christmas present there could have been.

Thank you my love.

I miss you.

I love you.

…..and I really do hope you are with me, laughing with me, holding me and generally mucking about…..

XA

Dear Darl, it’s 11/11/11

620 days….

I’d promised myself to post today.

All those 11′s lining up when they’ve been following me around since you died.

I look at a clock and it will read 11 past the hour.

I look at the treadmill to find that my pulse rate is 111.

I pay my bill and there are 11 cents in the total.

…and I always think of you…..11s for remembrance and all.

I like to think it IS you letting me know that you are there and that you love me.

… but after 20 months of 11s, that’s all I get.

Something like a wave….

… or a kiss blown from the window of a car.

So I’m asking you (God / the universe)  … if you can hear me … to grant me one wish for this magical day of 11s.

When I think of all these great life questions in my head, can you use the 11s to let me know if I’m on the right track?

If you can.

I need some way of knowing that you agree with me.

or disagree.

and that you are there, watching us, helping us, loving us.

please.

I miss you.

I love you.

11.11.11

XA

Dear Darl, it’s 6 November, 2011. Dreaming again….

Day 615…

I had the clearest dream about you last night.

You weren’t dead but had been away working for the past year and a bit.

…and I mean *away*.

You were on the moon or in Africa or something.

…and you came home and we were all over you.

…and you told us how much you missed us and love us.

…and I felt safe at last.

But then I half woke up in the early dawn light and reached for you in that half-asleep / half-awake state and couldn’t figure out why you weren’t lying next to me in our bed.

… and I searched the house for you before remembering.

….before remembering that you weren’t here at all.

…and I crumpled to the floor with  gasping sobs – the kind that suck the air from my chest and double me over.

Part of me still doesn’t accept that you are gone forever, and that part will keep waking me up in cold sweats for the rest of my life.

…part of me will always be searching for you.

…never understanding that you are gone.

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

 

Protected: Dear Darl, it’s 3 November 2011. I wish I could talk to you.

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Dear Darl, it’s 12 October, 2011. Reaction to the coroner’s report…

Image via Wikipedia

 

it’s been 19 months and 11 days since my life ended.

when my REAL life ended and this slide into insanity began.

I hate this life.

It is wrong.

You are not here when you should be.

I am not meant to be doing this shit by myself.

 

You were my best friend.

My husband.

My partner in crime.

….and you were meant to live with me until we were old and senile and a burden to our children.

 

This life … it is just wrong and I hate it.

I want to have a tantrum and kick and scream and hit and yell and Make Things Go Back To How They Were.

I want to pick and choose who lives and who dies … why is my tool of a boss alive and kicking and you are dead?
Why wasn’t my beautiful friend’s cheating husband the one smashed to pieces by a truck?
Why are YOU the one that had to die?
Why am I the one that has to live?

I want to punch and kick and scream and stab and reverse time to the Before through the Sheer. Force. Of. My. Will.

…and when I am spent I want to cry and sob and shake every person whose life is still whole and make them understand how completely and utterly horrible this life is.

this half-life.

this wasted life.

I died on March 1, 2010 and I just have to keep breathing in and out until my body gets the message that its heart is dead.

…and I got the coroner’s report in the mail yesterday and it doesn’t change a fucking thing.  Life still sucks and I still don’t have a reason for it….

I miss you more than ever.

I love you.

XA

Dear Darl, it’s October 1, 2011.

579 days…

1 year, 7 months.

….and I miss you so much right now.

Today, we were driving home from grocery shopping when I thought about That Old Black Car that was sometimes parked outside a particular house, just around the corner from home…

…and every time I saw it, I’d say something like “hey, wow – look at that old car” and you’d call me a goldfish, because I’d have forgotten that we’d see that car parked there every couple of months and I’d always say the same thing like I’d never seen it before.

It got to be one of Our Jokes.  You’d call me a goldfish before I ever got to point the car out to you.

…and I miss that you aren’t there to laugh at me and share injokes that nobody else would get.

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

Dear Darl, it’s 12 September, 2011

560 days….

Last week, I fell.

Emotionally.

Too many stressors on top of an already stressful life.

…and then the person who keeps work flowing my way resigned.

and I panicked.

Because she is the only person in admin who gets it.

But I met with her, and while she isn’t able to give me more long-term certainty, she moved mountains to keep me employed for most of next term.

….and instantly, my spirits lifted.

 

I’m happy that I am employed until December, but I’m scared that my emotional health swings so wildly around having job security.

 

In the past, I’ve never had job security.

I’ve only ever had contract work.

But  it’s been OK because  a) I’ve never been out of work, and b) I’ve always had you there  earning an income to provide for us if I couldn’t.

Now, I need that security.

Please.

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

 

7/9/11

day whatever.

Can

Not

Stop

Crying.

Life is shit.

and I don’t believe for one second that it will ever get any better.