One Month

My Dad has been gone one month, today. I still cannot believe he is really gone. I find myself thinking I can call him on the phone and chat with him about my day or his. Or that I could pull in to the driveway and he will be standing in the garage at his workbench, and he will turn and wave at me. Instead, the phone is unanswered. The garage stands empty. And I am very sad. And apparently, I do really dumb things when I am this sad.

For example: I woke up with a bad headache yesterday. It didn't start as a migraine but became one later. I decided that I would start my day a little later so I took some medicine and went back to bed. But I did not call work to say that this was what I was doing. My supervisor was very frustrated with me and also probably very disappointed. She left me several voice mails asking me to explain what happened and then scheduled a meeting with me today to discuss it.

I wracked my brain all day and all night to figure out why I would do such a stupid thing. I have never done that before. It's very irresponsible and very unlike me to do that. I had no good reason for it. Until I talked to my mom and she told me it is grief. But she warned me that I need to increase my awareness of my grief and make sure that I still keep up with my responsibilities while dealing with my sadness.

On the same day, BB lost a shoe and did not get on the bus. He and I looked every where and could not find the shoe. I still have no idea where that silly shoe could be. So, I told him we would drive up to Target and get him new shoes. He really did need them but I had been asking him to wait til payday which was a mere 2 days away. My 1 hour of lateness turned into 3, thanks to a missing shoe and construction traffic.

To add to my day, I got an email from Peanut's teacher informing me that Peanut only had a juice box in his lunch and the lunch helpers had him go through the line because he would need more to eat than that. Then he said that if Peanut ever needs a lunch, just let him know and he would take care of it.

While this was very kind and sweet, I felt so silly again. I tried to explain that I am teaching my children to make their own lunches and Peanut packed his own but I did not know why he only put the juice in there. When I asked him later, he told me he just ran out of time and couldn't find anything else to put in it.

It's a training issue, not a food issue. Again, my Mom suggested that these two incidences are also signs of grief. Forgetfulness. Maybe.

I am really struggling. I am hating the fact that I have to work. I am hating the fact that my house is falling apart. The laundry is piling up. The bathrooms are natural disasters. I'm afraid that something furry is going to grow in my kitchen because I have dishes to do. I feel as if I am stuck in slow motion while the rest of the world has sped up. I fear I will never catch up.

And I wonder if people forget that I am still grieving, that it is going to take a long time for me to feel normal again, for me to wake up and not feel like crying every day, for me to not wish I could just pick up the phone and call my Dad, just to hear his voice. I am afraid I will forget what his voice sounds like. It's horribly unfair.

My kids are working through their sadness in their own ways. Pumpkin-head had some regression back to wetting the bed a few times. That seems to have stopped but he worried every night that he was going to do it again. All of them have issues with concentration and focus in school. Peanut is the one who just breaks my heart because he will ask me questions that are completely out of the blue, in my eyes.

"What if you die, Mom?"
"Is Aunt Desert Bloom dead?"
"What if Charley dies?"
"I sure do miss Grandpa."

Bless his little, 6 year old heart. He is trying so hard to grasp it all. And he is afraid. So, when he asks me questions like this, I just try to answer honestly.

Well, sweetie, we don't have a guarantee about how long we will live. But when Mommy does die, I'm going to be with Jesus in heaven, so that is a good thing. I wonder if you worry about who will take care of you? You will not be alone. Aunt Desert Bloom or the Mrs and Biker Boy will take care of you. Mom will make sure that you are taken care of.

I need to write up my will and make these plans official.