The Journey Through Grief of a Young Widowed Mom

My grief journey after losing my husband of six and a half years. I am 27, and he would have been 28, in September 2006. We have three little boys, 6, 4, and 2.

Monday, September 18, 2006

The Shock Wears Off and Reality Sets In and It Hurts

9/17 Tonight I can’t sleep. The last five nights or so straight, plus a few times before, I’ve had dreams of trying to convince Mickey to stay, trying to get Mickey to return, or something similar. It isn’t trying to get him to return from death, or stay from going in death, just to stay or not go. Today was not good. It hasn’t been. The hole in my heart and soul seems to be growing bigger. I miss him, and will never have him again. It seems as though mentally I know that he will not even return, my unconsciousness still wants, needs, and expects him to return. Half of my identity is gone, as a wife, and the other half, as a mom, I don’t have him to share it with. When I think of not ever seeing him again, my heart comes up into my throat and I almost feel like I am choking. I don’t know what I am supposed to do now. I feel so lost and incomplete. Thinking about the future hurts. I know I have these boys to raise, but I didn’t want to do it without him. Days seem almost meaningless right now. I guess I should get involved and do things, but I hate to be gone for too long. I hate to expect mom to take care of them so much. I hate asking so much from people. People tell me to call them, but I won’t. I feel like I’m imposing. I wish they would just call me. I don’t fit into married groups, and I don’t really fit into singles groups. I don’t fit in with most widow/widowers. What kind of social life am I supposed to have? I know it doesn’t have to be now, but am I supposed to have one later. Shouldn’t I have one later? What the heck would I do? I want to have friends who aren’t married and have children, but that aren’t in their forties, friends in the same age group. I think that is almost impossible. I don’t fit with the college and career group, but neither do I fit with the 30-something group. I don’t fit with the 20’s group, because most of them are never before married, in college, or starting their careers. If they are married, they are married, starting out in their lives, expecting children, or have just started their families. I don’t want to be alone. I wanted my husband to share my life with, to raise my children with, to feel secure with, to have things to do with, to make plans with, and now I don’t have anything but my children. I am not being a good mom either. I yell at them for almost nothing. I hate myself for that. They are such little boys, and they’ve been through so much, and the only parent they have yells at them and breaks their tiny hearts. They are everything I have and yet I still can’t do right by them. I want nothing more than to be the good, calm, loving, gentle mom they need, but I get so overwhelmed, so frustrated and so tired of it all. I just want to skip ahead a couple of years to when it won’t be so painful. I don’t want to go through this process anymore. I want to be able to let go, but at the same time, I don’t ever want to. I am not married anymore, but can I take off my rings? Would that symbolism help me move through the process, or would it just make me feel guilty and sad? I am not married anymore. That statement hurts a lot. I am not married anymore. I am a single mother. That was never supposed to be. I am a single mother unlike other single mothers who have the fathers still there taking the children on weekends, offering some kind of support, being a father to the children. I am a single mother who lost the father of her children totally and permanently and not by anyone’s choice. I am soley responsible for the hearts, minds and souls of three little boys. That is more responsibility than I bargained for on my own. And though everyone offered support, everyone has their own lives. We are lucky to see some people twice a week for a few minutes at a time, and others every couple of weeks. I know it isn’t always by choice, because they have their own lives too, but it still hurts. Everyone moves on, new babies, new paths, new jobs, new careers, etc. At the end of the day it is me and the boys, except for the ever loving, ever faithful and ever strong Nanoo, who has been there for me faithfully and unending. Without her, I would be….I don’t know, not well. There were lots of promises for help, help to get things done, help to do this and to do that, but I don’t think most of the people really meant to follow through. I guess those are just nice words to say to someone when they’ve suffered a loss. I haven’t even seen Pastor Chuck in well over a month. Heather calls when she wants something, and I can’t help but think of how I am glad that Mickey isn’t here to experience that. She already broke his heart enough, over and over again, and she still can’t see past herself. People ask me how I am, but don’t really want to hear the answer, and I am sure they are relieved when I say “okay”. How do they think I am? I’m just fine. I lost my husband, my life mate, my best friend, my whole life, and I am left alone to raise three little boys. Do they want to hear that financially and physically I’ll be okay? I guess that is true. I will be. If that is all they want to hear, which is what most people do I guess. If they really cared, they would call, or write, or ask me over instead of telling me “if you need something” or “give me a call sometime”, they would bring me something, they would invite me over, or out, or whatever. They would call and talk to me like a person who is alive, and not like someone they barely know that is dying. I am not going to get any sleep tonight, then I am going to be tired and upset and angry tomorrow. I don’t know.

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