Thursday, August 26, 2004

An Early Morning Sighing, Thoughts

Yes, today has started off very early for me. I have to be out today for a while, partly necessity and partly for fun. Of course, the fun doesn't happen until after the necessity part.

Right now I am amazed at how quiet it is outside. There are no children playing, an occasional car will pass by, and not even neighborhood dogs are barking. Everything is quiet and peaceful outside my window to the world.

On this side, however, things are a little different. The dogs are quiet and the cat is purring peacefully upon a cardboard box full of books, but my heart is hammering so hard in my chest it feels as if it is trying to come out! It is a horrible feeling actually. I'm nervous and anxious about the day.

This is my first solo trip since I lost my Dad in June. I have really depended on hubby and Cheyenne to help keep me sane since then. Today there is no one to lean on but myself and I am ... well ... concerned.

Between my last outing and this one there feels like a big difference. The city doesn't feel familiar to me and time seems to have stopped, slowed, or sped up, I'm just not sure which. There is also this crazy half-idea that something is going to go wrong when I leave the house. Hubby will be hurt and unable to get hold of me (but that is silly because I will have BOTH my cell phones with me) or I will get hurt (always a possibility), or something else bad is going to happen. Now that last one has me really worried because I can't shake it.

There is this insane feeling that something else bad is going to happen. I will get home to find out someone else has died or that there has been a problem somewhere that will throw my life into full-fledged disaster. It's silly, I know, and this should probably be saved for a journal of some type, but I have a great need to reach out and share this with as many people as possible, to, perhaps, not feel so alone.

Hubby asked me this morning before he went to work what it was that was bothering me so. I didn't have an answer for him then. I had to think about it. Ponder it. Mull it over and taste it until I knew something about the strangeness of my feeling and just how badly I felt it. This wasn't something I wallowed in, thank goodness, at least I've learned a little something since ... well, for a while. I tasted it and found something familiar, something I could put a name to. And, quite frankly, I don't like it.

Most of last year I don't remember. That is how deep my grief was. In April hubby and I were driving in the car and the sun was shining and I felt suddenly as if I could breathe; suddenly everything seemed to settle gently into place and I felt myself smile. Not only my face, but my heart, too. It must have been very odd for hubby, because I said, out loud, "You know, I have a feeling everything is going to be all right now." He asked what I meant, and all I could do is just repeat it. I felt it. I believed it. My heart and Soul were lighter and I could breathe without the extra ten pounds of weight on my chest!

From that moment on I started really getting out, doing things. I was nervous, but not like this. I was excited nervous, you know, that good sort of anxious that sometimes happens.

June 5th hubby and I were helping out a friend at his clothing store, I was even doing some sewing. It was beautiful outside. The sky was blue. The sun was shining. It was a Good Day. The hills and Low Gap were on my mind, and Daddy, but it was a good day - a day of remembering past summers of joy and ignoring all the bad in life for a little while. Then I got the call.

When Mommy passed I was cold. No manner of heat truly warmed me up. With Daddy it seems as if the sun has never been as bright as it should be.

Part of me wonders if this is a new phase I'm going through. There has been so much loss I'm not sure how to deal with it. So, why is leaving the house so difficult for me today? Why is there an over-whelming sense of doom? It is so bad, Dear Readers, I have seriously tried to come up with a reason why I shouldn't go, why I should cancel my plans. Deep in my heart there seems to be a knowledge that, if I do that, if I cancel everything, I will be staying in this house, or some other house forever, never getting out, never venturing further than my porch alone without hubby.

I know, all of this is so silly, but it is a genuine concern to me at this moment so early in the morning. I will try and come up with a more positive piece before I head off today.

Sorry if I've bored you all.

1 comment:

Alex said...

Thanks for your comments. Mom also insisted that I clean up my plate and have second helpings. I grew up in the Middle Ages and at that time men went out to work and women stayed home to clean and cook. Mum always insisted that I be clean, neat, and looked healthy. If I wasn't ship shape in Bristol fashion the neighbors would think that Mom wasn't holding up her part of the marriage bargain. If I didn't clean up my plate and make the appropriate noises Mom thought her cooking was deteriorating. I'm now fat but I left Mom as happy as hell!! Anyway, as far as your blog is concerned you are completely normal. There are about five stages of grief and it takes about a year on average to complete the cycle!!