Absences

I've been struggling mentally to write a blog for over a week.  I deeply desire to keep in touch with all of you and yet it's taken me days and days to figure out what I want to write.  I literally have three or four drafts of this post started.  That's because each time I sit down to write it I'm in a different place emotionally and have an ever-changing point of view.  It makes writing a focused post kinda challenging.  Consider the fact that I haven't been sleeping well at all and you've got a recipe for blog disaster.


Early in the week I seemed to be doing quite well.  I decorated my mantle on the weekend and put my Christmas tree up in the living room.  My home now looks and feels festive and our Advent calendars are up to date. The kids are managing their schoolwork and Bennett earned 100% on a math benchmark test the day after returning to school.  The early week was busily spent managing the details of widowhood. I gathered together the various paperwork necessary to begin the task of managing my financial affairs and planning for my future.  An entire morning was spent in the local branch of the Social Security office and lots and lots of phone calls and letters have been made and written.    


My nights this week have been busy too.  I've had dinner with the neighbors and other friends and it's been nice to have the company and playmates for Bennett and Olivia.  However, time spent with people means there is inevitable conversation about Phil and although I thought I was doing well, I'm clearly not.  Too many tearful nights and not enough rest are a bad combination it turns out.  The first chinks in the armor showed up mid week when I started feeling spread thin and canceled appointments that had previously seemed very important.  Overnight I began to crave my quiet time and the social engagements that had kept me company and staved off loneliness didn't appeal to me at all.  And then this morning, the bottom dropped out.  The kids both woke up in "a mood".  Olivia burst into tears and needed cuddles and Bennett begged for more sleep after struggling all night to get his fair share and calling on me to help him get it.  We were, as a unit, blitzed.  And I was, as a woman and mother, feeling disorganized and totally tapped out.  It was inevitable that I would get to this point but I really didn't see it coming.   Duh. 


I knew that Phil was going to die a long time before he let himself realize it.  My role as wife and caregiver required me to tolerate hearing the hard truth of what Dr. Kossman was spelling out for us at each and every cusp along Phil's arduous road when he could not. Most certainly it was God's grace that allowed me to begin my grieving process for Phil over a year ago.  Because he was sick for such a long time and I grieved so much during the illness I had time to prepare for his death.  But I could do nothing ahead of time to prepare for what I feel now - his absence.  I feel what I do now in each unique moment and before I could only imagine the potential of his absence.  And my imagination fell far short of the reality that is life without Phil.