May 21st, 2023

I’m afraid of sleeping. Of what I’ll dream about, or that of what I might not dream about (haven’t dreamed his face or his voice yet and I ask him to come to me even in dreams every night). I’m also afraid that once I actually sleep more than a few hours a night, I’ll realize it’s an escape and it will be all I want to do.

I’m afraid of people seeing me in what I’m calling a “dry spell” and not understanding just how much I miss him and that I’m dying inside because I just don’t have tears at that point (until I do and they won’t stop) and because my brain is working hard to compartmentalize and shut the boxes so it doesn’t hurt so badly. Not because other people’s opinion of my grief matters but because it feels like it matters that they know how important he was. Scott was upset when I didn’t cry the day he asked me to marry him. I had been a single mom for years and learned to hold it all in tight to keep from scaring my boys. After trapping it for so long, it became difficult to express any of those kinds of feelings. Oh, but i was sooo happy on the day he asked me – and the rest of the day we had one of the best days ever. It’s actually hard to differentiate because I feel like we had soooo many best days ever. Now, when I am crying, it feels like I can’t hold it in to save my life. When I’m not crying I feel guilty for even being able to function because I still don’t know how I have survived this many days without him.

I’m afraid of so many other things. Things about how I 𝘢𝘮 going to live without him here. Scott would have told you I was fearless, that the only thing that scared me was losing one of our kids. And that was pretty much true because I never worried about losing him. He wore his seat belt. I used to tease him about driving like a grandma, but he was very safe. He was nervous about the surgery, as anyone would be when their spinal cord was involved, and I told him not to be afraid, that this would be like any other surgery he’d had and that he would come out feeling so much better (and he did…for awhile). And no other woman was ever going to take him away from me. I was never afraid of that because he couldn’t talk about anything but me when he was away from me and he only wanted to be in the same room I was when he was not working. Anyone we knew would tell you that. We were inseparable and I thought we always would be. We said “til death do us part” 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘵 when we got married. I thought we had until we were 80.

But there are three primary emotions with this grief: white hot anger, intense, devastating sorrow, and fear. Disbelief sneaks in there but then the anger takes over again and proves me wrong.

We didn’t take a wrong turn. We did everything we were supposed to do. We followed the rules for pre-op and post op. We did what insurance and doctors told us to do. And he was healthy, so healthy. This was not supposed to happen, under any circumstances, and yet it did, despite everything.

So I’m afraid a lot. I’m afraid of how long it is going to feel like for me before I see him face to face again and can tell him how much I love him and missed him. He wouldn’t have wanted to miss all of this, the goings on around here – the grandbabies, the graduations, the successes and accomplishments, the trips we had planned (we have a payment plan for our trip to Jamaica which was postponed due to his injury). And he wouldn’t have wanted me to miss this (although I never plan to ever go to Jamaica now, ever – we dreamed about this delayed honeymoon for over six years). He would want me to find a way to enjoy all of it but I just can’t see my way to that point right now.

The light and color is gone from my life and I feel like I’m watching a black & white movie with no sound or subtitles; it doesn’t make sense.

I’ll figure it out. No need to call for a welfare check. Scott also would have told you I was strong and for some reason he was really proud of that. I’ve lived through a lot and I’ll live through this. But before, he was always there 𝘪𝘯 the storm with me (ever since I’ve known him) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 on the other side of the storm. I know he will be this time but I have one hell of a hurricane to ride out. And so, I’m afraid of doing it alone.

Edited to add: Minutes after writing this post, my app alerted me to the verse of the day. Here is what it was today, because God is always on time. God is not the author of coincidence and, once you know Him, you’ll see that there are too many instances of “coincidence” to ever thing it was chance again.

“Peace is what I leave with you; it is my own peace that I give you. I do not give it as the world does. Do not be worried and upset; do not be afraid.
John 14:27 GNT