This time of Year – all breaks loose.
For the past three years there is about a month every year that just sucks. I say sucks because it is impossible to breakdown the details of all that exactly goes wrong, the pain that is felt, the anger, the love, the loss, just the everything is drastically off kilter or upside down.
Today is November 4th – and to you that may mean nothing, and to me for 29 of my 32 years is meant nothing as well.
Any that read this blog are very aware I have no connection, relationship or love for that matter for my parents. My father is passed- and oddly enough I couldn’t tell you what day that was, which makes you wonder how it is I know the day my husbands father, that I never met, did. Maybe its because the story of his family is something I dreamed of having growing up – maybe I am jealous of it, or maybe its all that and the fact that he is easy to remember, in that although passed, he is still here.
His picture stills sits on my husbands dresser, smiling with dark brown hair, wearing a blue collared shirt, and eyes that when he smiles his forehead all but disappears. Last year I wrote a tribute but this year I just want to share a couple things I feel like Donald has been present for and how life stands still for a month of hell in a sense – to provide a tiny flower through a crack in the pavement.
Last Christmas, my husband and I were watching Courageous (life altering movie) a movie about a fathers relationship with his children. A box of tissue and two puffy eyes later – I looked to my husband, who I could tell was moved by the story. We went home, and as I was taking my shoes off, he came out of the bedroom holding a frame, and said “Don’t take of your shoes.” Then he held up the frame, which was a family portrait of ours ans asked if he could have the photo out of it. Somehow, I knew what he was doing, I can’t explain how – but I knew this was a pretty big deal, so I responded with “You can have that one, just leave it in the frame.” He questioned me a little, but then happily said “Okay, lets go”. Driving through town, we end up at Wal-Mart its about midnight, and he heads to the flashlights. My suspicions are confirmed even more, and yet I stay quiet and keep them to myself.
Driving through the winding country back roads, we pull into a little gravel drive in, that leads to a closed metal gate. Behind the gate are headstones, having never been here, I knew his father must be here. Still afraid to speak, still in shock – because my husband hasn’t been here since the service ten years before, I just follow him. We walk through the gate, and I am not gonna lie and say I wasn’t completely creeped out of my mind, midnight – graves, animal noises – I was terrified!! However, I maintained composure for the most part – seconds later I met my husbands father. We cleaned up around his site, and my husband placed our family portrait beside the headstone – I’m not sure what he was thinking in that moment or feeling but I know it was pretty intense since we were there. We didn’t stay for long, but we didn’t need to. That night brought me closer to my husband, it brought my husband closer to his father and a moment that could never be replaced between the three of us.
Around this time every year my husband and I get into this end all – battle. Its hurtful, its difficult and we always come out of it stronger than before – I know subconsciously its fueled by today. What I don’t know, is how I become fueled by it as well. These past couple months have been hell for me, life has taken its toll, stress at an all time high, and most recently – my husbands family is faced again with heartache around this day.
My husbands grandmother, the mother of his father, is currently in ICU. Today is day 9 of being in a medically induced sleep, in efforts to allow her body to heal. Following blood clots, to almost loving a leg, to almost losing her life – she is holding strong. Yesterday, we sat with her for about six hours. My husband had a hard time with it, because he hates hospitals – but for about a half hour, she and I were alone. We aren’t extremely close, but I love her easily because she is funny, outspoken, not afraid to be crass or un-ladylike and takes nobody’s crap – she is strong. Arching her eyebrows, she stirred some and her eyes opened. Slipping my hand into hers, I spoke to her, feeling so uncomfortable, not knowing what to say, and almost wishing she wouldn’t waist her time in waking up on me – I wanted her to see someone more important to her when she first woke up. Although her eyelids were open here and there, I could see she didn’t “see” anything, so I sucked it up and just talked with her. She squeezed my hand when I asked if she could, and I just let her know I was there, she wasn’t alone and that we all are ready for her to come back to us. Standing there making jokes, like squeeze my hand if you think Matt (my husband) is a pain in the @$$ – or him asking her if she thought he was funny – I couldn’t help but feel Donald in the room – or hoping maybe they were having a visit while she dreams.
Truth is, she is the families matriarch – she is the stone pillar that her husband clings too – this family would be destroyed to lose her. Today, on the day the family I married into, watched a loved one close their eyes, I pray to god, today she decides to opens hers. She will eventually, but what a blessing it would be, for it to mark November 4th in a different way.
See you next blog!
Posted on November 4, 2012, in Father, Judgment and Loss, Life, Love, Parenting and tagged anniversary, courageous, death, grave, happiness, hope, hospital, ICU, life, movies, sadness, tribute. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.