Tuesday Night

I’m sitting alone at the kitchen table eating some crappy pizza I unearthed from the freezer.  The dogs are sprawled in their various spots and baby is asleep.  Today was a long day, emotionally.  I was crying by 830 AM.

Not all of my days are like that anymore.  I wake up and step into my routine of feeding baby and pets, making coffee and gluing my blackberry to my face for the day.  Jen is an ever-present thought in my mind, a necklace dangling around my throat, a realization that my life has taken some totally fucked up twists and landed me here in my own personal hell, which also happens to be in the middle of my own personal best thing ever.  The dichotomy of my life, being so happy yet so miserable, is something I can’t seem to get used to.

While I appreciate my parents’ honesty with me about how they feel, sometimes it is too much.  Maybe my mom doesn’t understand how her words slice my heart and make me feel absolutely invisible.  Yes, your daughter, your first born is dead, I want to say, but I’m still here! Please don’t tell me that you don’t want to wake up, that sometimes life doesn’t seem worth  living.  While I can understand where she is coming from, because I too have felt that darkness, I don’t need to hear it.  Those words do nothing for me except make me feel like shit, like I don’t matter.

Add to the fact that I can barely get them to watch my Sunshine.  They are so consumed with my niece that they don’t even see my little girl and that really, really hurts.  Yes, my niece does not have a mother and her father is a jerk but he is a good dad.  So maybe give a little to your other grandchild.

I don’t want to come across sounding whiny.  I’m afraid to say anything to them because I don’t want to seem needy.  I want to be strong but inside I am totally breaking down.  When they tell me they can’t watch my baby for 90 minutes so I can go to the gym because they have such a big day planned with my niece that they just can’t do it all…I revert to the me of 3 years ago, turning inward from them, vague and cold.  Their apology seems empty.  My voice is flat and I don’t say it’s ok.  I don’t say anything at all.

I wonder if they’ll notice that I’m stopping asking them to babysit…I honestly think it will be a few months before they catch on.  By then my Sunshine will (hopefully) be adjusted to the gym daycare (so far it is going horribly, where she cries for 20 minutes and they call me to come get her but I’m going to keep at it and hope she comes around) and I will have also found an outside babysitter who can help me when I need it, instead of me planning my day around them and constantly getting shit on.

Gah.  This feels like it’s coming out all wrong but this is it.  My truth in all its hiedous glory.

Father’s Day

I’m trying to concentrate on celebrating the day for my husband, his 2nd Father’s Day, but there is a nagging feeling in me.  The past two days my own dad has been acting funny, with a tightness to his voice and an incredible lack of enthusiasm or interest in the dinner we’re planning to have at our house.

I think at first it’s because he’s upset that my husband has put his foot down and refused to have Father’s Day dinner with my BIL.  Usually my husband is very easygoing and will do things for the sake of the family but he is so angry at my BIL right now that he doesn’t want to see him at all.  He says it’s my Father’s Day too, why should I have to spend it with him and cook for him when all he does is disrespect you and your parents and make you cry? I don’t disagree.

I finally ask my mom if my dad is ok and she starts to cry.  She says yes, he’s fine and it’s not that he doesn’t love you, he loves you very much, it’s just a really hard time without Jen and it makes you not want to celebrate. She felt the same way on Mother’s Day.

I don’t know how they feel.  I can try to put myself in their shoes but I really have no idea how deep their pain is.  I know I shouldn’t take it personally but it’s still a slight slap in the face.  My mind tells me that there is no comparison between  me and Jen and in death they don’t love her more; their loss is immeasurable.  The whole thing hurts every which way.

I can’t even begin to describe how horrible my BIL is acting right now and I will not get into it because it makes my blood boil.  If I never saw him again I would be just fine, if that says anything.  I worry about my relationship with my niece and just have to believe my husband when he says she’ll come back to you when it’s time, when she’s ready, when she wants to know about her mom.

I am her family and nobody can change that.

Saturday

Been quiet around here for the most part. My husband had the week off so we flew to my in-laws for a short visit and surprised my father-in-law as an early Father’s Day present. He was very surprised…when he drove into the garage and almost ran over the stroller that we forgot to hide. Oops.

It was an enjoyable few days. Weather was nice and cool and now that Sunshine is past her seperation anxiety phase (for now), she was much happier and fun to be around (for her grandparents, she is always fun for me.). These days Sunshine’s first tooth is peeking through and she makes “woof woof” sounds when she sees the dogs. She’s also less grabby with them and pets nicer. It is very cute to see her crawl over to my litte hound mix and pat him several times before moving on to conquer something else.

She will be 13 months old in 4 days and I will be 31 in 2 weeks. Busy month. Maybe she’ll take her first steps as a present for me–although I am not rushing for that to happen. All in good time.

Happy

I want to clongratulate my dear friend Claire on the new family addition, a healthy baby girl.

Monday

How long before a man removes all pictures of his dead wife from his house?  Or at least the ones in plain view.  I don’t know about the ones in drawers…I’m thinking they must be around somewhere.  I know there isn’t a time frame for grieving and grief.  It is different for everyone and maybe a man needs to put those things away in order to move on and begin to date.  It still stings, though.  She is my sister and my  house is filled with pictures of her, us, our life, my memories.

How long before a man begins to push away his dead wife’s family?  Does he need to do that in order to continue to move forward?  Did he really dislike us all along and just put up with us for her sake?  This is my theory although I will never have confirmation, as these are questions I can never ask him.  Now that she is gone he doesn’t have to pretend anymore and he can make things very uncomfortable for us by waving his disdain in our faces.  She is my sister and I love her but I am starting to dislike him and I feel a rage building inside of me that threatens my equilibrium.

I’m sad because my bond to them fades each day that she is gone.  My niece grows older and is molded by her father.  He is not a nice person, even less nice than he used to be.  I tolerated him when she was alive because she chose him and she’s not an idiot so there had to be something there.  Now she’s gone and I feel as though I am disrespecting her memory with my feelings.  I can’t make them go away though and they are in direct response to his actions.

I had done a good job of trying but I am tired of standing up for him.  I’m so tired of hurting and missing her.  I need her guidance and it is ironic because if she was here I wouldn’t be going through this at all.

Coming up on two years in August and the daily pain is marginally better but overall I am no different than I was the day I watched her take her last breath.

Video

If this doesn’t make you smile then I can’t help you.  This kid saves me every day.