Widowhood 101

Here's what I really think about being a widow...what I would really like to say...

So I went to Hy-Vee today to help Amberlea pick out some flowers for Brian's grave. They kindly asked if we would like them wrapped. I said no thanks, we are just going straight...um...(actually, my husband is dead, and if I had it my way, there would be fresh flowers on his grave every day of the rest of my life)

Then Amberlea butted in excitedly...I'm taking them to the cemetery for my stepdad! The girl was very nice, complimented Amberlea on a good choice of colors and tied them with a bow so they would stay together.

We go to LaBonita for lunch. How many? they ask. (One less than there used to be). I see several people there that I know. (yep, her husband's dead).

I looked through the garage for a few gardening items. Brian wanted to be a green thumb so badly. He was just starting to dabble in wanting to landscape our yard. I reached and scooted a few boxes, then saw some of Brian's things, things I know he put there, things that are basically meaningless except for the fact that they were important to him. Things like a bag of weed and feed because dandelions really stressed him out. Or like his golf clubs, which reminded me that he hadn't been able to play for quite a while, considering the physical toll melanoma had taken. Or like the snowflake lights from our wedding...

I didn't realize how much Brian and Todd are alike until today. Several facial expressions of Todd's reminded me of Brian. Several responses or comments or you know, things I can't put my finger on, they all reminded me of Brian. It was a good feeling. People always comment to me how much they look alike, and I never really thought so until now. The same thing happens to me when I'm around Brian and Todd's Grandma Halley because she reminds me so so so much of my Grandma Eickholt. And the same thing happens when I'm around my Uncle Larry because he and my mom look so much alike and have a lot of the same expressions. Again, good feelings, just memories of loved ones lost.

I wonder what Trace and Don think about what happened to Brian. Tori and Zeke are old enough that they know the same as Tye, that Brian was sick and he went to Heaven. I remind Tye over and over again that God took Daddy back to Heaven so He could make him all better. I know the 3 of them still don't completely understand, neither do I. But what about the little ones, what do they think? I think Trace probably thinks what the heck, where's Uncle Bri-Bri? We keep talking about Brian, but it has to be so strange to have him just wiped away. I feels like that too, even though I know Brian will always be with me, it doesn't change how much I miss him.

I've run into several other widows lately, many widowed to the evil we call cancer. It is amazing that we can put a man on the moon or have wireless Internet or do laser surgery or fax images across a phone line, but we can't put a stop to this serial killer. Cancer knows no bounds and shows no mercy. And as Lance Armstrong said once, it doesn't matter how old a person is, they were still robbed and they still had to suffer.

I don't want pity. I battle that terribly. I often think it is me who actually pities myself. Is it me who feels sorry for myself for being inflicted with this? Is it me who feels the sorriest for myself for being alone and for actually witnessing the death of my husband? Is it me who feels pity for myself for not having someone to walk along and hold hands with, a husband who wanted to walk and hold hands? Is it me who feels the sorriest that I am a single mom again? Is it me who is the saddest that I had a great marriage, not an average marriage or a so-so marriage, but the real deal, and it is gone? Is it me who feels sorry for myself when I have no husband to kiss me goodnight or to cuddle with? Is it me who pities myself when I am out with my family and it has been ripped apart and someone is missing? Is it me?

It is me...

Sometimes I think it is someone else's life, that surely this can't be mine, a widow at 34. Then the numbness wears off and the pain cuts deep, and I can feel that it is indeed me. I came home late the other night from a friend's house and pulled in the garage and realized that I have no one to come home to. Then it started, the same story that has the same ending...I keep reliving it all, I keep trying to figure a way around the ending, but it is already in place and the fact is there, he is gone. I lay in bed at night and think, what the hell happened? In the big picture, it feels like a whirlwind. For those looking in, you probably feel like Brian was sick for so long, but I feel like he was still able to do so much until last spring, even if he was off work.

Or maybe it is me who feels the sorriest for Brian. I often think that I did so much to give him hope, false hope really. I ingrained in him the thought that he would beat this. He worked tirelessly to squelch my fears and take away my worries of losing him, that this was not going to happen. We were let down. By who, I'm not sure. I can't say God really, because I believe Brian has ultimately been healed. Yet I struggle with the trust and belief I held so close, that Brian and I shared, the hope that got us through so much. It is sort of like when you trust someone you love, and they let you down...it takes a while for you to trust them again. It doesn't mean you don't love them, or that you won't try to work on that trust again; just that it doesn't necessarily come automatically. I have found that to be my challenge, to learn to trust God again, to trust Him to care for us. I pray each day for the health and happiness of my children, yet I wonder, are these prayers on deaf ears too?

I know this all sounds terrible, I'm sure. Please don't judge me. Many of you can relate, just in the fact that you prayed diligently for Brian too, to no avail.

But then that little thing called belief slips back in, and my heart refuses to stop believing what I know to be true. I remind myself that God has a plan, and for whatever reason, that did not include Brian being here with us. He needed Brian. I needed Brian. He won. I won't pretend that I had the power to win. I will admit that there weren't too many times that my prayers for Brian were for God's will to be done. I desperately prayed for God to see how special he was, to see how wonderful our family was, to see how much we loved each other, and to spare him of this fate. So when my brain tries to wrap itself around how I could put so much trust in God to save Brian, and how I can pick up the pieces after that did not happen, I feel crazy. I feel abandoned, and frankly, I feel like I didn't deserve Brian, but I was here to help him die. Again, don't judge me for being so harsh, and don't pity me for feeling this way. It is just how I feel sometimes and I have to work so hard to get those feelings and thought out of my head. I have resorted in just praying, sometimes just sitting quietly and not saying anything because I don't know what to say to God and I don't want to be disappointed if what I ask doesn't happen. Instead I am trying just to praise Him and thank Him and beg him to ease my pain and take away these thoughts, to just be with me as I mourn this loss. I could sugar coat the whole deal, but I would be lying to you. I am not saying anything now that God doesn't already know, as I believe that He knows my heart. He knows how much I loved Brian. I had convinced myself that all things are possible with God, so Brian and I had concluded that only through God would Brian be healed. I am proud of the fact that Brian had a close and deep relationship with God, and I feel comfort in knowing that he is home in Heaven, and my belief that God followed through with our prayers that asked for peace for Brian. It sometimes seems that Brian's suffering ended, and a lifetime of pain was unleashed. Yet I will continue to praise God because I want to spend eternity in Heaven too.

I am just rambling. I am letting my head wander and my hands are just typing whatever is in my head.