Lily's sad little smile...
I’m finding it hard to write. I can’t stick to one subject, one feeling, for long enough to complete a paragraph.
It’s not much of a spectrum, miserable to sad and back again. I feel stuck in a groove and unable to rock myself out.
I seem to spend a great deal of time reflecting on all that I’ve lost, and remembering moments and experiences from my time with George. I’m melancholy, and I guess I have every right to be, but I sometimes feel in a prison comprised of my grief. I think Lily feels caged in, too. She paces like a big cat behind bars and proposes all kinds of activities and outings. She has a great desire to convince me to buy her things. I think it is really control she is seeking. I’ve been giving in a lot, and I’m ashamed to admit I’ve bribed her to improve her mood more than I should have.
I’m in such a fog, I’ve had some really strange lapses. The other day I suddenly realized that we have a working fax machine and have for years, though its little used. I needed to do a lot of scanning and faxing and I bought a new machine. I absolutely forgot the machine we have. I’ve worried a great deal about needing to fax, too. Worried for days and days, and it never crossed my mind there was one in the basement.
So even though I feel I’ve made some progress, I have to admit I’m still quite in a state of shock.
I’m also struggling to stay engaged with Lily. I haven’t been reading with her, and Sara is doing the homework with her. I don’t want this lapse to become habit. I want our life to still be fun sometimes. I’m trying, but I’m bogged down. I know too many moms who have lost the ability to have a good time with their kids. They are so busy being watchful and giving object lessons, they forget that one of their jobs is to play. I’ve always felt uncomfortable around those families and I don’t want ours to become one.
Lily told me she had a dream about George the other night. When I asked, she said it was just us living a normal life. She had such a look of longing when she told me that. It was another of so many sad moments between us.
She got mad yesterday and told me that she wished it would have been me that died rather than George. Ouch! I didn’t get mad, though it really did smart. I told her I understood, and she’d feel that way sometimes, and not to feel guilty. Later she did feel guilty and she said she was sorry, which was totally unneeded. I know how much she loves and needs me. I’m just so sorry that she is having to explore these kinds of feelings so early in life. It doesn’t seem fair.
I’m starting to buy things for the new house and that’s been a lot of fun. A new bed, new great room furniture, a new dining table. I can’t stand to keep our old furniture, and just sleeping in our bed is a nightly source of great pain. As soon as I sit on the bed I compulsively say out loud, “I love you, George.” I really can’t help it. Its the place he haunts me the most, even to the point that I often wake up and think I hear him breathing. Its only Buster, our old man bichon, who now has to be lifted into the bed he jumped into easily just before George died. This has taken years off of his life, I’m afraid. He walks along, yipping with pain, on many of the cold days we’ve had lately. He still sits at the front door a lot of the time, hoping in vain for George to come home.
In just a few days, March 4th, it will be Lily’s eighth birthday, and the six month anniversary of George’s death. A big, sad day. Lily is having a fairy party and will be flitting around with all of her fairy friends at her party, and I hope she can have a nice time. As for me, I’ll be missing him more than ever. No George to blow up the balloons. No George to give out directions. No George at all.
Just another sad milestone in our journey toward a new, George-less life.
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{ 5 comments }
Oh, Lisa. The tears are falling down my cheeks as I literally sob. What did me in was that Lily told you she wished it had been you instead of George. That poor little girl! Poor You! I would do anything I could to take a little of the pain away from you two lovely ladies, but I can’t. Just know that I love you both! I don’t know Sara but tell her thank you for me!
My little girl is having her birthday on the 7th of March — she’ll be 35. Yikes! I’m not giving her a fairy party though.
I know. It’s sad. Of course she has mixed feelings. I actually feel grateful that she can tell me how she feels. It’s hard, though.
Maybe your girl NEEDS a fairy party! You got lots of wings over there, I know. It might be just what you need!
Seek counseling for you and Lily. I know you have been trying to find someone, but take it from someone who has gone (not really thinking I needed it and putting it off), you will hopefully leave with tools to understand and cope, and most importantly, you will be able to help Lily find her way. Moving forward is wonderful but moving on with unresolved baggage will likely make the journey more difficult and in the end, no matter how “new” things are, that old baggage may still weigh on you and Lily, making your “new” life feeling that much more like “old”. NONE of this is easy for sure, but then this is what makes us a stronger, more resilient and an even more wonderful and caring person.
you have a real solid grip on what you need to do and yet you do need forgive yourself this time you need to grieve and not be yourself completely. children are so resilient and if it takes you a year or so before you feel like playing and such, so be it. it’s part of life, taking time to regroup, digest it all and let it take its natural course. i’m just glad you haven’t lost sight of the mom and person you plan to be again when time has created enough space to heal some of the fresh wounds. lilly is still young and there will be plenty of time to get back in the swing of things with her when you start feeling better about your new life path. hang in there. hugs.
When I read your post my heart aches for all of you. My problems seem so small and I feel guilty complaing about them. Keep your strength up but its ok to melt away too. New house…new life certainly not the one you would of chose but you are making it the best you can. I’m sure its tough where you are now with Georges presence everywhere. He will be with you in the new house too. I only hope its a leittle more peaceful in the mountains. Now as for the dog he’s grieving too. Try giving him a aspirin a day in peanut butter or cheese for his aching bones. Wishing peace to all of you and sending big hugs.
Becky
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