Yes, He Really Is DEAD

I was in town, well, if you can call it in town, today for MOPS. OK, I really wouldn't call it in Town, because I live in the state capitol, but for all intents and purposes, I shall say "in town". And "town" is a half hour away from my house. And town is in a different place than where I live. But I digress...

Today at MOPS we made Advent Calendars. I have to say this is one of the most fun crafts I have ever made, I really really enjoyed it. I will post pictures in the next couple days or so of what I did because I am going to do a blog post about it. Figured I'd get a happy post in, everyone wants to know how to do crafts, right? So be on the look out for that in a few days, I am looking forward to posting it.

On to business...

Today I paid for Barry's funeral and cremation. I remember walking up to the Funeral Home and thinking that MOPS had just gotten out, and would anyone see me go into the funeral home and wonder why I was there? I don't think anyone saw me, but I don't know why I didn't want them to see me. I wasn't ashamed, I suppose it was just something I didn't want to share with anyone. Didn't want them to see me still taking care of funeral business, dealing with it all still.

I was laughing and joking with the staff, but inside I was hurting. I asked them if they could process my debit card as a credit because I get points for all transactions I do as credit. I joked about Barry's service giving me over 12000 points and now I could earn a Macy's gift card because I was over the point threshold for a $50 card. We talked about gallows humor, and how you just have to laugh sometimes because otherwise you'll just be eaten up inside. And then I accidentally slipped and said something about burning Barry...I was shocked at myself, but then started laughing because I was so flustered.

Paying today though, really was a slap in the face. It was a reminder, all over again, that "Yes, He really is DEAD" and that nothing could bring him back. Not that I expect anything to bring him back, but it was a hurtful reminder as I signed that receipt for $3,625. I felt as sad as I did when he died, as sad as I have been feeling since he died.

While driving back to the city, I was thinking again about how awful this whole situation is. How surreal it is. Do you know I still feel like I am in a dream sometimes? Hoping that maybe I'll wake up somehow. Because it still doesn't feel real to me, he doesn't seem gone. But he is, and will be forever. And while I was thinking about how awful it is, about how full of despair I am, I told myself that I just had to laugh.

The situation I am in, that the kids are in, it is so fucking awful. How can I cry all the time, and be depressed all the time? It is so stressful that I have to laugh about it, though I do feel like laughing like a mad woman. Just belly laughing to DE-stress. It's so awful you can't imagine how awful it really is. And every time I think that maybe, just maybe, I am OK, it hits me all over again and I'm knocked to the ground. And my last analogy of the night, dealing with grief of this magnitude is so very much like one step forward, two steps back. I feel like I am in a well trying to climb up the slippery sides, but rarely finding anything to grip.

And I wonder, when will I be OK? I know we're NEVER going to get over this. You can't possibly get over a loss like this. The pain is going to be there forever, but when will I be OK? When can I laugh, and share memories, and be happy again? When will I think of him and have a warm fuzzy feeling spread throughout my body as I remember him, instead of being sad and angry that he left us?

I still can't look at his pictures for too long without crying. I do touch his face each night and say "I love you", I kiss his lips through the glass, and then I go to bed.

And I still haven't dreamt about him.