The Clouds Roll In

I feel the week looming over me like a dark cloud. I can't believe it has been three years since Kevin left me. I sometimes feel like I have less to describe my grief now than I did at the time. It was so fresh, harsh and open, three years ago. Now, it is painful in the kind of way that living with chronic pain is, a dull ache that I have become accustomed to, and every once in a while I will get a head splitting jolt that knocks the wind out of me, There are a lot of times when I feel like I appreciate more the kind of man that Kevin was. It seems that someone like him is incredibly rare. He was so honest, able to tell me when things freaked him out without just shutting me out. I continue to feel like I have forever lost that kind of closeness. I have found myself unable to sleep, just feeling this restlessness and the strongest desire to be near him. Of course, snow, rain and cold don't make it easy for me to go to the cemetary and grieve. Plus, Gloria is now at an age where she is really aware that I am so sad whenever I am there. The moment I turn my car up the hill and into the cemetary she starts to protest, saying "Mommy, don't cry about Daddy anymore." There are very few opportunities for me to be alone with my grief, or at least not with Gloria. Perhaps this is why I have such trouble sleeping. Perhaps my body and mind just want to seek out time that I can process all of this sadness churning within me.

There are parts about this time of year that are unbelievably painful for me to think about, and yet they are there. As much as I miss all of the goodness and light that Kevin had, I can't help but remember how bad things had gotten at this point. I wanted so dearly to hold onto him, to keep him safe from himself, to take this pain from his heart and mind and body. I didn't recognize this person that could be so cold, cruel and manipulative. He had always been tender hearted, full of kind words and never wanting to hurt anyone, especially me. Then, the evil of addiction just took over. I still don't understand addiction. To me it is the scariest thing in the whole world. To see the man I loved turn into a monster, to see the pain in his eyes as he realized how much he was hurting everyone he loved, and to be so scared that I couldn't keep him safe. Over and over in my mind I run across those last few months, weeks, days and hours before he died. I ask myself again and again what was happening and how did it get that bad? There are no answers. I knew that much then and it has remained the same.

Yesterday I went to the mall with Gloria to see Santa and meet up with one of Kevin's old friends, Bud, who has become my friend as well. Before Bud arrived I was making my way through Macy's when I came through the infamous perfume department. This has happened to me before, and yet it always throws me off - I walked past a display that featured the cologne that Kevin used to wear. It was like, for a brief moment, he might have come up to stand behind me. It makes me want to just sink to the ground, and yet I immediately wonder if subconsciously I take myself there to have that experience. There is something to be said about a split second of his presence. It happens sometimes when I catch his dad or brother out of the corner of my eye, or if I happen to brush against his robe still hanging in my closet. For the most part, his things have made their way back into the corners of my life. His clothes are now in boxes, his tools in the garage, his computer being worked on at my brothers house - I hate it. I really hate it. I want his things out and around me. I have to fight the urge to bring his things back into my everyday life. Sometimes I want to throw his laundry in with mine just to have to fold his shirts and boxers one more time. I know all of this makes me sound crazy. I just don't know how to explain any of what I feel. I don't know what words can convey these urges and breakdowns. One minute I am terrified of being by myself, the next I wish everyone would just leave me alone. I never quite know what the line is between dealing with my grief in a healthy way and perhaps needing to seek more help and support.

It is all a process for me. Hopefully I will live through this week and be able to enjoy Christmas. Hopefully I will get to sleep again. I don't know how long I can keep this up. One thing is for sure, I feel the strength of all the prayers that people are saying for me. It is almost like I can hear whispers of those prayers surround me and start to ease my mind into sleep again. Thank you to everyone who reads this - for everyone who takes the time to read and respond, to me or in prayer, it means the world.