Moments in Between





Baby Girl and I spent most of this summer traveling. We went on so many trips I probably can't remember them all. Most of them were crammed into the last half of summer, making the time we were home in between trips as many as three days and as little as one.  Hence the very little blogging, I've been gone and often had little or no internet.  never fear I have a whole list of things to blog about that came up while we were traveling.

Dan didn't come on any of our trips. I suppose technically he did because I carry around a small jar of ashes in my car (why yes I am a crazy widow and I do weird things like keep my dead husbands ashes in my car, but just some of them). I suppose you could say he was there in spirit, I'm undecided about what I think about that but let me assure you it is not the same as a actual alive person.

We came home from our last trip, last night. My dad picked us up from the airport, he brought my car. I saw him pull up to the curb and the first thing I thought was "O I'm so glad to have my car back, I have the best car, I love my car"  I love my car, hands down the best car I've ever had in my life. I was able to buy it because we had a little bit of life insurance. I have that car because my husband died, and I love that car.  To my crazy widow brain it sounds contradictory,  I love something that I got because my husband died. hmmmmm. I guess to the rational person it's not contradictory, it's trying to be happy and trying to make life easier for me. Ya, I guess it's those things too. There is also the part of me when I say how much I love my car, that screams in my head "WHO THE FUCK CARES? I don't care, I don't give a rats ass about my fancy car, I will trade it for Dan in a millisecond, I don't even have to think, give me Dan back, the stupid car is not an adequate consolation prize, I'd rather have Dan and the crappiest car we ever owned (it was pretty crappy). I'd rather have Dan and no car, I would walk everywhere if I could just have Dan. Who cares about a dam car."

We got home. Both of us were so happy to be home. I texted my friends "were home, I love my home, I love my bed, I love my bathtub, I'm never leaving it again" Baby Girl too was so happy to be home.  She called it home, she said "mommy I'm so glad to be in OUR home"  We've only lived here a few months, before now Baby Girl has been telling me how this is NOT OUR HOME. Our home, the home I bought by myself because my husband was dead. The home I bought because really it was the only option for us. The home I bought because we were kicked out of our home we loved, the home we shared with Dan, the home where the memories of him were, the home where he took his last breath. Dan isn't in this home and yet we love this home.

My life is very contradictory these days. How can I love things so much when the person I loved more than anyone in the world isn't apart of them.  I know, I know, he's here in spirit, I have memories of him strategically placed throughout our new house. I have the bulk of his ashes in our new house. Really though, It's not the same, not even close. It may be the best we can get but it is not good enough, it is nowhere near good enough.

I have a lot of problems with my crazy widow brain trying to reconcile these contradictory feelings.  All these trips this summer made me realize something, well lots of somethings, but this one I'm writing about right now.  I have moments, actual moments, when life is good, when I might even say I have a great life.  Before Dan died I had a great life, and I knew it, and I said it. I had a great childhood, great family, I even had great in-laws, the most amazing friends, the best husband in the world, and the most spectacular daughter. I knew I was lucky, I knew I was blessed.  I knew how many people out there didn't have even one of those things and I had them all.  Dan died. Dead. The love of my life. He's just dead. The whole world went black, blacker than black, just empty, a giant empty black hole.  I still had the great family, the terrific in-laws, the amazing friends, and our beautiful child.  It didn't matter, my rational brain still knew how lucky I was, it didn't matter. My rational brain tried to tell me to know how lucky I was, it just hit blackness. My rational brain told me to be grateful for what I still had. I knew all these things, really I did. I just couldn't feel them anymore, there was just room for grief that was all. More of that contradictory brain, I know I'm supposed to feel happy, but the grief is so overwhelming, that you just can't, you can't make yourself happy because you know thats what you're supposed to be.

This summer I've had these moments, just moments, sometimes a minute, sometimes less. Just moments when I can feel the happiness, feel the love, feel the great life I have. Moments where I say to myself "life is good" and I can feel it. I'm not just telling myself that because I'm supposed to, I'm actually feeling that again. Every second I miss Dan. There is only one thing in this world I would not trade for Dan and thats my Baby Girl (ya thats a whole other blog), No offense, but everyone else, everything else, I would trade it all for Dan. In between the seconds of missing Dan, I have started to find moments, just moments, where life is great again. My therapist tells me those moments will get longer, perhaps. Maybe I will graduate into moments between minutes of missing Dan. Longer moments where I can feel happiness and love, not just know it, actually feel it. I guess thats a good goal, after all isn't those moments that we live for.

I wrote a book about my grief, you can read it here: Carry on Castle

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