Survival of the Widow

So I survived the Thanksgiving holiday.

What else is there to say? Of course I was going to survive it. How can it have been worse than having Brian die in my arms? One of the hardest things I struggle with right now is having things go on without Brian. Sometimes I just sit back and watch and think how different things would be if he were here. I wonder if anyone would change anything if I was gone. I wonder why it feels like my life has stopped, but the rest of life goes on. I don't know really what I expect it all to be like. I wouldn't want everyone sitting around, crying and ruining the holidays. But so often it just feels like Brian is gone, that nothing else is changed. Other times I think that comfort of having everything else be constant should make me feel better, but maybe it is because my own life is so different, that it is more difficult to see everyone else's life seemingly unaffected by Brian's death. I wonder if I'm the only one that thinks about him everyday; I am sure I'm the only one that thinks about him every moment of every day. He was my life, and I would give anything for one more kiss or one more smile. I seem to be stuck in that stage of what if's, and of jealously...

Every daddy with his son reminds me of all the lost memories that were still to come between Brian and Tye.

Every couple holding hands or laughing reminds me that my future with Brian was buried along side him.

I want to have him put his arms around me and whisper in my ear. I want to see his ornery smile across a room. I want to feel his cold feet on mine as we crawl in bed. I want to smell his cologne in the mornings. I want him to remind me that my van is low on gas. I want him to leave me messages on my cell phone. I want to hear him call me Sweetie and sign all his notes "and back". I want to have my t.v. on football or racing or baseball all the time. I want to talk each morning to decide who is taking which kids and picking up which kids when and where. I want to cuddle with him on the couch after the kids go to bed, or fall asleep in his arms and wake up to his snorring. I want to see him play air guitar whenever he hears a song he likes. I want to hear him gripe about his crooked jaw, and joke about shaving his goatee to make his jaw look straight. I want to know how excited he would have been for the Hounds to go to state. I want to go to the New Theatre restaurant and enjoy the evening together. I want to hear him solving all the puzzles on Wheel of Fortune. I want him to play cows with Tye, and be so excited to see him writing his name. I want him to study with the girls and share the parenting. I want Tye to have a daddy.

I want Brian. I won't ever stop wanting him or missing him. I feel like right now, time is making it all worse. Now it has been over 8 months since his death. How did that time go so fast?

An odd thing happened to me today. Jamie sent me a link to a song, Christmas in Heaven. When I clicked on it, I realized it was sung by Sarah Schieber (not the one from Maryville). It was her husband, Chad, who died of a heart condition at the age of 35 at the Chicago marathon last year when Brian and I were there. I found my way through her website to her blog, and felt inspired by the fact that she is doing all she can to praise God in the midst of her grief. She is a Christian singer, one who I have enjoyed listening to. This song is obviously special to her, with having her own husband in Heaven now, and really hit home to me. It seemed odd to me that we had a link in the fact that we had been at the marathon. She is inspirational to me, as I struggle with my grief and my faith. I stuggle the most with the fact that I trusted God to help Brian, and to save our family from this unbearable pain, and that did not happen. I didn't necessarily expect God to abide by my wishes. But I poured out my heart to Him, I begged Him...and most importantly, I believed in Him...I believed that all things were possible through Him. I believed that I could ask and God would answer.

So I am stuck in the middle now, wondering why my prayers weren't answered. And on the other hand, I'm working to believe that my prayers were indeed answered in some way. I am also working to have faith that God has something wonderful planned for me, although I have to admit that a lifetime of missing Brian doesn't seem all that appealing, or all that much of a reward of faithfulness. I am not afraid to admit that I feel abandoned and let down. I feel like my pleas fell on deaf ears. And often, I feel that I didn't deserve a future with Brian. My brain goes back and forth, also thinking that God blessed Brian with me and the girls and Tye, and that we were part of the path of Brian's journey, and he was part of ours. I just sort of feel like I got off of a plane with no return ticket, that I'm not sure what my journey is all about, and all the flights out are delayed for now.

I suppose it isn't going to get any better for a while. That is probably one thing that keeps me going, knowing that this is normal, at least normal as far as grief goes. I am not ashamed to question God, because I still choose to believe in my heart, to truly believe in Him. As I have said before, I believe questioning is of the faithful, not the faithless...it is a way for me to deepen my faith and understand God's will.

When the grief washes over me, I feel the pain of losing Brian all over again. It feels worse than it ever has, and I am beginning to realize this being alone crap is how it is going to be. I don't really care if I'm alone, it is that I'm not with Brian. The world would be a wonderful place if everyone loved the way Brian loved me and I loved him.

Please keep in your prayers another lost melanoma warrior. Joseph Graham, husband and father of two, 41 years old, passed away on Friday.

Anyway, here is the link to Christmas in Heaven if you want to listen. Give it a second to load.
http://christianpublicityservices.com/dramatic_rose/dramatic_rose/sarahchristmas.htm