tiggerprr’s scratching post

“How are you?” … a seemingly innocuous question. That question, guts me now. Because do you lie and say, “I’m fine, thanks!” When you’re not… or do you give them the biggest buzzkill of their day by telling them, someone that close to you is gone? Which of course, brings the inevitable “How” question… and then the “If there’s anything I can do…” which people mean very sincerely…don’t think I’m getting all cynical here, I’m not… I’m grateful for the love and support that my REAL friends have shown. Not so grateful, for the BS I’ve gotten from some jerks… Just a side note… people who’ve just lost their husband…aren’t so interested in hearing how hot they are. Yes, that’s happened. Yes, my mouth was hung open, like yours is likely to be right now reading that. But there ISN’T anything, ANYONE can do…except listen to you cry, or make you eat when that’s the last thing you want to do, or go with you to the places you “used to go” and help hold you together when it’s just too much to take. I’m not bitter, even though I am sure I sound that way right now…I’m just unbelievably heartbroken. Well, maybe I am a little bit bitter…but not with the world in general or it’s populace…just with the situation.

Because the worldwide memo didn’t get circulated immediately upon Ken’s death, I still find myself in the position of greeting people I haven’t seen who don’t know… like today… I just went for my 2 month checkup with the surgeon that did my spinal fusion in February. Of course, they didn’t know… I had planned on just not mentioning it…and made it through the nurse with the “I’m fine. The kids are fine. Yes it’s really hot” routine. Then the doctor comes in…and apparently his bedside manner is too good, and as soon as the “How are you?” left his mouth and he looked at me… he knew, the LAST thing I am is fine. So he tells me, rather than asking, “You’re not fine, what’s the matter?” I, thinking my “I’m fine” act is well honed by now, ask him, is it on my face? To which he replied that I’m normally bubbly and energetic and it’s clear, I’m not. So I tell him…and manage to make it through the rest of the appointment without bursting into tears, thank God. Not so much on the way back to the office.

I know it’s going to take time…but I don’t see how I am ever going to be not lying when I say “I’m fine.” These are the cards I’m dealt, and I have to play them. It’s just hard to do that, when all I feel like doing is saying “I fold.” I hate being so depressed, and so depressing… I’m sorry.

Today was the first holiday (already) without Ken. I wanted to be certain that we acknowledged the day and I came up with the most meaningful way I could think of for us to express ourselves and our feelings. It’s real important to me that we keep him alive in our hearts and memory. I also think it’s good therapy for the kids, and for me really.

What I suggested was that we each write him a letter or a card for Father’s Day. We then tied them to balloons for release up to the heavens. We took them to the beach he’d started to spend his lunches at, in the hopes that our messages would find him there. I like to think they did anyway. Ashlyn had to work all day, and wanted to speak to Ken in her own way so she didn’t accompany us. And that’s ok, because we all express our grief and feelings differently and in our own time.

Kenzie & Coby preparing for the balloon release

The release...

After we sent them into the air, we watched them until we could no longer see them and then had lunch at his favorite beachside restaurant here in Myrtle Beach, Damon’s Grill. The view of the ocean is spectacular there, and of course, the food is USUALLY great. The kids had fun reminding me of a time we went there that wasn’t so great. I must be getting old, or I have selective amnesia, because I really didn’t remember a bad time there…then they finally said something that sparked my memory of that one time.

To the heavens and beyond...

I’m really hoping that the kids are finding some comfort in these things. I am honestly doing the best that know how to help everyone, and myself, deal with these feelings. But, there’s really not a “how to” book out there that encompasses everyone for this situation… I just hope that Ken can see us…and that he can feel our hearts, heavy as they might be.

I was on the beach, looking down as I was walking, and saw this shell. I thought it was pretty and perfect, with no cracks or chips and the coloring was interesting so I picked it up. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the edges were ragged and not really perfect at all, despite my first impression. That got me to thinking…

I, as many of us do, try so hard to be perfect…perfect in my profession, perfect in my parenting, perfect in my relationships, perfect in…well just everything. Of course…I am flawed in each and every one of those areas in some way, either large or small. Like a lot of people, I am very unforgiving of those flaws. So much time is spent focusing on our shortcomings that we don’t see the things that make us beautiful.

That shell taught me a lesson today… it was beautiful and perfect to me, despite its imperfections. Imperfections I didn’t see, because I wasn’t busy putting it under a magnifying glass. And likewise, despite imperfections… we are ALL still beautiful and need to be embracing THAT, instead of clinging to our flaws… especially me.

I lie here in the dark, devastated
Thinking of you, and how things used to be
Wondering how you couldn’t see
I was just frustrated.

Why’d you have to go away?
Why’d you have to leave me here, insane?
A thousand apologies will not change that day.
A thousand tears will never wash away the pain.

Do you see me, do you see us?
Do you feel the love we felt inside?
I’m sorry for things I didn’t say.
But, you have to know I tried.

Do you hear our voices tremble,
every time we speak your name?
I’m sorry you got swept away,
in a sea of hurt and blame.

Do you know the sadness this has wrought?
Are you peaceful now, or do you regret?
I think of things I will see, but know you will not.
No matter how time passes, I swear I’ll not forget.

So I lie here still in the dark, devastated
Thinking of you, and how things should be
Wondering just how you couldn’t see
I was only frustrated.