Dear Darl, it’s March 1, 2012

2 years.

Two whole years that simultaneously feel like two minutes and two centuries.

The fog and numbness have gone this time – it’s just pure loneliness and loss this year: I miss you so badly.

I took the day off work …. I got some raised eyebrows when I did this, but thankfully not from my boss. (He is an odd boss – simultaneously infuriating and marvellous).

Plus I needed it after yesterday…

I took the kids to visit your grave.  Finally.  They haven’t been since you were buried.  I haven’t been because I don’t think you are there…..
I didn’t expect the reaction they had.

H cried.

K was quiet.

They sang a song in the car on the way “Our Daddy died on the first of March.  It’s the first of march today”.

sob.

They brought some stones they had decorated and carefully placed them on your (our) headstone.

…and we put in a solar light with a dragonfly on it.

The we left.

I treated the kids to lunch in a cafe before coming home.

We miss you.

We love you.

XA

 

 

 

Dear Darl, it’s February 28, 2012

729 days….

The death march has started.

I can feel myself slipping down into the black hole.

I’d be there now except for the fact that I am currently so red-hot angry that I’m genuinely surprised I haven’t spontaneously combusted already.

You see, I tried to be kind to myself…..

Psych myself into this week with some nice relaxing things.

A bit of pampering to balance the pain.

But that always backfires.

 

I had today off (I don’t work on Tuesdays) so I thought I’[d treat myself to a haircut.  You know – a proper one at the hairdressers.  Problem was, my regular hairdresser was running late so her partner (sister) did it.  TWO FREAKING HOURS of her telling me that her angel child was ruined by teachers who are all horrible (me included it seems).  (BTW – your angel child is a nasty little work-avoiding, shit-stirring,  bugger of a kid who is not the angel you think he is).

After a while I tried just tuning her out as she was on for the rant of the century.

Meanwhile, my regular hairdresser turned up but LEFT ME WITH THIS NUTTER.

The nutter who ignored me when I  said I had school photos tomorrow and could I please have nice, straight, neat hair: your basic neat, brown bob please. ….But she was so into her own ranty headspace that she didn’t seem to understand and she fucking layered it and now I look like Side-Show Bob.

In the end, I didn’t care so long as I could get the hell out of there.

So now, I am an evil teacher with Side-Show Bob hair.

BOY, DO I FEEL PAMPERED NOW!!!

It took 2 full hours of me sitting at home…. completely alone …. before I stopped shaking.

The introvert crawling back into her cave to claw a bit of sanity back…..

 

…..and now I feel childish for having a ranty blog tanty over a bad haircut given under two hours of verbal torture.

gah!

 

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Darl. It’s 23 February, 2012. Happy 49th Birthday.

724 days.

Almost 2 years.

Happy Birthday Darl.

I should have baked a cake.

I should have cooked roast beef.

I should have the “good china” on the table.

I should have had presents wrapped and cards made.

But I didn’t.

You died too young: 47 and a bit.

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

Dear Darl, it’s February 12, 2012

713 days

Or 1 year, 11 months, 11 days (hello 11s)

Almost 2 years.

…and I miss you more than ever.

Work is settling down after a fashion. … in that my second teaching partner has been easier to deal with than I thought she would be.  We will be OK …… and helping with that is the brilliant children we have.  They are all beautiful.  Several have already stolen my heart.

I wish some of them were orphans though as some of the parents need a bit of a wake-up call: your child isn’t perfect (and that’s OK), and yes I can tell when a toilet trip is needed and when it’s pure work-avoidance; yes, I’d rather she had a book that was “too easy” and understand it than I would if she read a higher level so you could brag to the other parents; let your child have a little independence – it is good for them.

I miss you in my down time though.  Its getting bad.

I searched for you on a dating site … but you weren’t there. (A couple of really nice guys and a lot of  … er… ‘idiots’ is about as polite as I can be).

But nobody like you.

Nobody even comes close.

I know this is telling me that I’m not ready, but my longing to be held in your arms grows worse each day.

I want to fall asleep in your arms with your chest against my back.

I want to wake with the soft skin of your shoulders as my pillow.

Not this empty bed in this empty room.

I can barely stand it.

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

PS – If you could just send me a nice bloke, that would be great.  Just give me a sign so I don’t send him packing like I did most of the blokes on that dating site.

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.

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password: