Pitiful? Pensive? Promising?

I was just trying to sleep and all these thoughts were running through my head. So, I decided that if I couldn't sleep, I may as well try to process these thoughts and the way I precess best is by either talking to someone (too late at night for that!) or writing. I have been oscillating between being hopeful, inspiring (as others have dubbed me) and optimistic one day (or moment) and completely pitiful, sorrowful and discouraged the next. From all my training in counseling in graduate school and reading since August, I know this is what one experiences when grieving. I know one day, I will not feel so lonely and that after an evening with friends, I will not go home feeling like 3/4 of a family, with a piece missing. But, tonight (and many nights) I feel like just that... like I have a piece missing.

I have been thinking this weekend about what a wonderful man David was and how blessed and lucky I was to be married to him for 12 years. I absolutely HATE that Max (and Davey, to some degree) will not know what an amazing man his Daddy was and how respected and well liked he was, what a hard worker he was, what a team player he was, how he came to be a spiritual man through many years of soul searching, how generous and giving, how calm and forgiving. I was the lucky woman to find him for my own, if only for a short time.

A friend at work told me once, when talking about our respective marriages, that hers was not a pleasant experience, in the least. She said, "Jen, better to have had 12 years of a good marriage than 30 years of crap!" I know no marriage is perfect and that there were times either David or I was frustrated with the other, but we always worked it out and we made each other the best selves we could be. I think that "best self" is what I owe David to strive to be. I have such a hard time some days doing that. I yell at the boys, I put what I want to do before what they want or need. There is no other adult in the house to take over when I am lagging, so I need to be the best I can be.

My biggest fear when they told us David was sick was that I didn't want to be a single parent. I now have no choice and I am so glad that the summer is almost here so I can devote more time to putting the pieces together and turn the 3 of us into a solid, cohesive unit that feels more complete as it is. When David died, the school year was just beginning and I am grateful for the business that comes with the beginning of the school year, a distraction that allowed me to grieve at a more "relaxed" pace, for lack of a better term. I didn't feel like I could just curl up and sulk and feel pitiful. I did some of that at intermittent times throughout the past nearly 10 months, combined with feeling a continued purpose with my students and my amazing kids. My grief was still fully felt, but perhaps a bit muted by my feeling of continued purpose. I wonder sometimes if it is easier for widows who have been married for longer and have more memories on which to reflect an in which to find comfort, or whether it is easier for those of us who still have really full and busy lives and have our kids at home to keep us focused and distracted. The hardest thing to endure, either way.

I feel like God has a plan for my future and that of my little boys. That is why I chose the scripture verse for David's grave marker which is also one I wear on a bracelet every day: "For I know the plans I have for you. Plans to give you hope and a future." Some would endure this experience and feel called to question God, "Why me? Why did you have to take MY loved one?!" I know there is no reason it happened, there is no reason it should happen to someone else and NOT me. Many, I am sure would lose their faith or believe that this is validation for not believing. I feel like the ONLY way I am going to endure this is with my faith and with the help of those God has placed in my life to hold me up and help me along.

I guess there will come a time when someone comes into our lives and seems to be a candidate to join our 3/4 trying to be whole, but I wonder if I can get that lucky twice in one lifetime. My boys deserve a consistent positive male influence in their lives. I am grateful every day for my dad, my neighbors and friends for the way they have risen to the occasion to offer to provide back-up for me when trying to teach an important lesson or simply provide discipline. There are and will be coaches, scout leaders and fathers of friends who will teach them many important things that I will not be as effective at teaching... sometimes moms aren't the right ones to teach some things, like how to bait a hook or how to treat a young lady. I will give it my all, but they may hear it better from someone who isn't Mom.

I knew this would be therapeutic and worth the lost sleep. I imagine there are some who will read this that will cry (as I have) and some who will comment (please do!) I feel lonely sometimes, but I also feel so surrounded with love and support that the loneliness fades a bit. Thanks to all of you who offer prayers, hugs, support and distraction from my grief. It is appreciated and certainly needed. I wondered, when all the calls, cards and meals were pouring in back in August and into the fall just what the situation would be in the spring, summer and beyond. Some would still be there and I can't than those of you who are enough!

Time for a few hours of sleep, just a few days to go. God bless you all!