2.27.2011

One more day further away

Jeremy with his Pheasant hunting buddies - Jon, John, and Mark.


This weekend, I've noticed this indescribable panic start to set in to my body. Not an alarming anxiety-type panic, but rather the unsettling truth of my reality seeping into my heart.

I'm realizing with each passing day that Jeremy is slowly slipping through my fingertips and no matter how tight I try to hold on, another day will still come. Another day without the one I was suppose to spend all my days with.

This weekend, I received Jer's last pay stub from his last paycheck at work. They paid him through the end of February, but I was not prepared for the onset of emotions caused by the notification on my iphone for the direct deposit. I don't care about the money, it's the tangible confirmation that Jeremy's life is falling further and further into the distance. Just another reminder that life is going to continue on without him. It's not new anymore for people, life must keep going. But it still feels so fresh in my heart, and I don't want anything to keep going.

So many things have happened in the last 110 days, it has allowed me in small ways to not have to deal with my reality. My grief is there, make no mistake, but I'm terrified of facing the beast head on, worried I might not recover. I fear Grief will knock me out for the count, and win this fight I'm very ill-equiped to handle. So instead, I stand in my corner of the ring, shuffling from foot to foot, looking like I'm ready to fight, ready to move forward, when in reality it's just fancy footwork to keep me from having to actually defend myself.

Maybe it was that this weekend almost felt like a conclusion to all the things that were allowing me to hold on to Jeremy without really dealing with his absence. All these little milestones that I absolutely dreaded having to face were actually excuses for me to escape. Yesterday, a Jeremy King Memorial Pheasant Hunt took place to raise money for college funds for our children. Jer's family came into town for the weekend to participate and support, Jer's friends from all different walks of his life came together and had a good time. But this event was on my calendar for awhile and marked the end of a long series of dates on my calendar: The birth of Jer's niece, Grayci, Christmas, New Years, recording a CD in Jer's memory, Gulf Coast, the birth of Carter, Jeremy's birthday....now that they're all over, I find myself panicked about what to do next. Faith turns 5 in two more weeks, and after that I have nothing to focus my energy on except the harsh reality of this new life as Jeremy's widow and only parent to our three children. The new title alone is overwhelming.

It was a good weekend. It was good to be around Jeremy's family and friends - that's where I feel closest to him. And I feel like I'm starting to get 'used to' this routine, if that's even possible. It's not so startling every morning when I wake up and realize oh yeah, I've got to do this alone again, my husband is dead. It still makes me sick, it's just not as surprising anymore. It's when we're all low on fuel without naps and I'm sitting at home with three kids crying about three different things that reality becomes too much to face. If someone had told me my life would end up in this place, I would have ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction.

I'm still not ready for this. I'm not ready to face the future alone. I'm not prepared for this intense loneliness that is soaking into my bones, this hunger for a warm presence. A reliable presence to lean on, to talk to, to share my day with, to love me at my best and my worst, to accept my crazy, and to help ease the load that we created together. Even though I'm used to having the kids during the day and taking care of them myself at times, knowing that daddy will never be there again to help really makes the responsibility seem so much bigger and less possible.

I'm ready for this joke to be over. It's really not funny anymore.

15 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh Sis, I'm sharing some of your feelings. "Facing the beast head on" is also very terrifying to me right now. I wish we could be together to have a chance to talk, and share our hearts. I love you dearly, and it hurts me that I can't be there for you how I would like to be. I don't know why our family is having to bear so much lately, but at least we have a hope and a faith of better things. We also have each other, and I am so grateful for that!! I'm so proud to call you my sister. I LOVE YOU!!!

sherene said...

Oh Vee, I am so speechless...Our family felt the same pain when my father in law was murdered. My Father in Law and your Husband are so much different, but still same fucking painful..

Michele Neff Hernandez said...

Hi Vee, My heart has been aching for you from a distance and I check in here, sending commradrie and hang in there vibes from afar. Tonight when I read your description of being afraid to get in the ring with grief, I sighed as I know this feeling. Four years after the death of my 39 year old husband in a cycling accident I wrote thishttp://widowsvoice-sslf.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-friend-grief.html and though it took me a long time to come to this perspective, I wanted to share the image of you getting in the ring, and surviving. Because you can, and you will. Even though part of you won't want to...against all logic, and despite the many, many gifts you have in your life. I just wanted you to know that there is another widow out in the cosmos lifting you up. And believing that some day you will face grief with no fear.

<3 Michele

Courtney said...

Hang in there sweet lady. xo

My Husband's Watching TV... said...

It must be VERY hard for even more finality to come about. That's great that they did the pheasant hunt for the kids, are they going to do that every year? *Hugs & Prayers*

My Husband's Watching TV... said...

It must be VERY hard for even more finality to come about. That's great that they did the pheasant hunt for the kids, are they going to do that every year? *Hugs & Prayers*

The Better Baker said...

Even though I don't know you personally, I think I am getting to know you very well. It's such a GOOD and HEALTHY thing for you to do here...share your hurting heart. You can...you ARE...doing 'this'...even though it's a day to day struggle. Your children give you so much to live for, and God definitely has a plan...even though it's far different from the one you would prefer. My heart just aches deeply for you and I pray for you often. Keep sharing - and keep looking to the One Who can comfort you in ways none of the rest of us can. YOU are a Treasure in God's heart...and in many people you don't even know.

megan said...

So not funny.

Anonymous said...

As difficult it is to be a day further away from him, you are also one day closer to him...to heaven and eternity with your sweet husband! Hang in there, dear woman.

Anonymous said...

I've been reading your blog for a while now and I've been silently praying for you and your little ones whenever you come to mind. Please take care of yourself and know that with every overwhelming moment someone somewhere is praying for your strength.

boyd2 said...

Once again, your willingness to be real and raw amazes me. I read your blog like a reader and a Christain sister, but I also read it like a writer. I admire your craft. Your metaphor of the fight is so well written. You SO need to send a query letter to Thomas Nelson or some other Christian publisher. Pray about it....

Katie said...

You're right. It's not funny.

It's awful.

And I am so sorry. Please know that all of my prayers are going to you and your sweet children.

Anonymous said...

Yesterday was 28 years for me. TWENTY EIGHT YEARS!! Right now you have very bad days, bad days, better days, and a few happy times measured in minutes or hours. That changes. The happy times start to outweigh the horrifying times. There are still days when I just can't get it out of my head. Twenty eight years later I still have to pull over because the tears are flowing too heavily. But those times are rare. Its hard to process, and you stumble through raising your kids. One day you will look back and not remember how you got to where you are, but you will be able to look back and smile. Your life will not be an open wound, the scar will always be there, but it will not be the raw pain you feel now. Processing takes time. I used to feel like I was losing things - feelings, smells. But I didn't. I can still remember how it felt to be hugged by him. I can still remember his smell. I was loved and cherished and that was worth the pain. Being with him was worth it all.

Anonymous said...

It will be 10 years...how can that be...on Dec 12th of this year. I remember being dragged to the mall by a friend a week after his death and seeing all the people bustling with their Christmas shopping as I walked in literally knocked the breath out of me. I wanted to SCREAM at them for being happy and acting normal when my entire life had just come to an end.

Last night I pulled his picture out to stare at...memorizing every feature of his face over again. I pretended his mouth was moving and he was talking to me. I said, "I wish I could know you more" I hate not knowing him thought the changes that have come in my life...not knowing what he would think or say...and then in my heart I heard "know the Lord". That was what he wanted the most for his family...and by knowing the Lord, I know him...for he is there waiting for our blessed reunion. Stay strong Vee...keep fighting sweet lady.
~Mel

Anonymous said...

Veronica,

you're amazing. Thank you for sharing such hard times with us. Know that I pray for you.

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