I survived my first night alone in the house and it turns out I'm afraid of the dark. After analyzing this for far too long I think it is because I only have myself to depend on. And I think it is because I was notified about Robert's passing in the middle of the night. It is true what you see in movies. I had a knock on the door around 11:30 pm. I was already sleeping. The dogs started barking and when I got out of bed to the top of the landing there was a police office shining his light in our front window. When I opened the door and saw the word "chaplain" on one man's coat. I knew. The world shifted and it became hard for me to see, to hear, to breath. I asked where is Robert and what happened? The chaplain wouldn't answer my question but asked if Robert lived here. I answered yes and said, "He is dead isn't he?" He simply nodded his head.
I didn't even know the right questions to ask. I played back our last conversation via text which included pictures of his dinner, a typical occurrence with my love. I was worried as I was angry that he hadn't called me like he promised. I was trying desperately to keep the dogs from barking so they wouldn't wake Addy. I had to call someone...who do I call? I didn't want to say the words that I could not understand. It is like learning a new language. Nothing fits together, the words sputter out slowly in some areas and rapidly in others, but all in a foreign tongue and I'm unsure I've said it correctly.
Even now typing this, there is disbelief that this is happening. I wish there was some guideline that said in 3 months you will feel this way and at 9 months this will happen. And if someone talks to me about the stages of grief again, I might wash their mouth out with soap. Who wants to hear that in this moment of such pain, I am ordinary like everyone else before me losing their love. My feelings are typical and predictable. That our love, our relationship, our life can be diminished to 6 stupid stages. Maybe I'm not ready to be comforted. Maybe at some point these words will find meaning. I don't know.
Had someone say to me yesterday that I seem fine. I suppose when you have so many things to take care of and kids and pets to look after, you don't get the luxury of completely falling apart and hiding away from the world. You don't always get the opportunity to express your pain and anguish. However, fine I assure you, I am not. After Robert's family left around 2 for the airport, I slipped to the floor and sobbed. Not easy full bodied tears that caress the face but ragged, hot tears which felt like an assault yet again. Under attack without any defenses.
Robert's mum and sister left cards; which I cherish. He truly came from an exceptional family. They embraced his crazy American wife with open arms. I adore them.
I can hear Robert pushing me to get out of bed. Get moving. I used to find it annoying when he would say, "You'll feel better once your in motion." He was right as he was about most things.
I love you baby. Missing you every second of every day. Stay with me.....xoxo
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