I seriously debated whether or not to press “publish” on this one and thought this might be best left written but unshared. Then I decided that I have been brutally honest before so why stop now. I know that generally people just want to hear that we are okay. And generally we are, but I have my moments. My standard disclaimer that nothing in here is addressed towards anyone in particular applies.
About a month ago, I met three of my high school friends for dinner. I think we were together for over five hours catching up, laughing, sharing stories. One of my friends, Christy, made a comment about the strength that I have shown during the last months. I half-jokingly replied, “It is all bullshit.”
It is not that I don’t think that I am strong. I just feel that I don’t really have a choice. I have said it before, when you have kids you don’t get the option of just curling up in a ball and staying there. I have confided in a few people that I am worried that my spectacular meltdown, which I have managed to avoid these last four plus months, is going to happen on or around the party. I have never had a good poker face. My feelings are written all over my face.
My emotions have been all over the place with this party planning. On the one hand, I have hired out almost every aspect of it so as not to feel overly stressed. On the other hand, that is not without its own set of tasks and stressors either. I get to celebrate the life of my incredible man with 400+ others which is amazing. But in the same vein, I am having a party for someone who will never again walk through the door and be in my day to day life, which is devastating. I have both smiled and bristled at messages from people saying they “can’t wait” or are “looking forward to” the event. I’ve said these things myself.
My time has been occupied with this party, work, the kids, and general day to day tasks. Occasionally someone will ask me to do something extra, a favor. And I kid you not when I say that there are times that I want to look them in the eye and say, “Are you kidding me? You are asking me for a favor? Do you not remember that I am a widow and a single mom? Do you think your problem is bigger than mine?” I know. SO uncharitable and awful. I never say it. But I do think it. And generally, if it is reasonable and I can help, I do. When I stop to think about the anger and frustration this bubbles to the surface, I realize that my life is a careful balance. I have taken on what I think that I can handle. Anything else, no matter how tiny, feels like it is going to tip the scale and send everything else tumbling. It won’t, of course. But that is how I feel, and how I live.
I am sure that as time goes on I won’t live in a state of continual breath holding. Small things won’t send me in to a tailspin. I will remember what it is like to fully relax. Maybe having this party and celebrating Dave will be the first step in moving forward. I’m not sure.