It’s been maybe 7 weeks sense Brett passed; and things seem to be slowing down like I expected them to. The weather is getting better and people in my community are getting busier. The idea of being a single parent is starting to kick in and I’m starting to get that 2 pm lul. It’s either around 2 or 5:30/6 when. I would usually be expecting my homebee to be walking in to door. I used to be cooking dinner around 5 but I often find myself cleaning and trying to get the house tidy before he comes home. But that’s just it… He isnt. I find myself cooking and feeding Tucker then cleaning up then playing with Tucker and stalling before bed time. Some times we take a bath and some times we read I suppose it depends on the evening but every evening we miss you. No one has really asked me what it is like having him gone, just one friend. Most everyone else asks generic question like how’s it going? Which often feels like a greeting. It’s such a loaded question I don’t even know what to say. My mom asks me that the most, usually super chipper and almost every time I’m speechless and I just respond… I don’t know… Or I completely graze over it and just start talking about something else. My friend Lauren said to me that she would respond “how do you think it’s going?!” It seemed harsh the first time she told me to respond that way… But it’s starting to seem more appealing.
No one has offered to come stay with me sense it happened. I have had a roommate for the past 3 months… But it seem like because she’s here no one feels like they need to be here. Or call in the evenings… Or any of that. I suppose they think I will put out some cry for help and then someone else will be here to pick up the pieces. But most of my community seems to be living happy lives and life just keeps happening. I guess I expected my parents or my in-laws to want to come and stay with me as I adjusted to being a single mom… Kinda like when you come home with a new baby… But no. None of those things happened. I’m starting to wonder if this is what “growing up” is really like… Or “being an adult”… Maybe something like ” well those were the cards you were dealt… So deal with it ” but saying it in a kind and loving voice?
Last night as I tucked myself in to bed I found myself thinking “I’m living in a dead mans’ house”… “My dead husband’s house… The one he left me… The one I’m so thankful to have, because without it I wouldn’t have a house….(Esp with how expensive our housing market is) but no the less I’m living in a dead mans’ house.” Kids play basketball out front and other people play Frisbee golf out back and we live in a busy area but my life, in here, inside these walls… It’s kind of this unknown area.
It sometimes feels like it never happened. Like none of it ever happened… I have this kid… Yea.. and this house full of stuff… And every night around dinner time I hit a wall because I expect (somewhere deep down in my brain) that someone might come relieve me… That’s the time Brett used to get home from work… And I keep thinking if I get the house clean and dinner ready before he gets home then….
I dont know….
… then it will be just me again. Missing my husband who loved me deeply and didn’t want to die. Who loved me back… Hard. Who fought for us, for Tucker, for our love story. One of the 3 times I saw him cry was at the hospital… We were snuggling before he was released and he cried to me and said ” what if I don’t get to see Tucker play with his friends? Get good grades? Or go to any of his games?”
I loved a man who loved me back deeply, and only cried at the idea of not being a family as our son grew. Even at the end when he was delusional he would randomly say things like “but not Tucker… He’s too young…” To young for what we would ask… He responded weird things like “to go in the ride… It’s to fast for him…” So we reassured him that he was right and Tucker was indeed to young and we wouldn’t let him ride it.
The other thing I knew would come is that my reputation proceeds me, and it’s this weird thing. I meet people for the first time and they already know my name; they introduce themselves but they already know my name. It’s the best I can do to try and remember their name the first damn time they say it because I already don’t want to make an ass out of my self and forget when my name is already memorized…Oh! And my story, my loss, my child’s name, what killed my husband and whatever else they cared to ask while my life was unfolding. They care. I know they do. It’s just that we’re in this generation of information and once we obtain the information we do NOTHING ABOUT IT we just respond “huh” and then our gaze just drifts out.
Yep. That’s me. Sooo… Now that shit just got real… And I’m sitting at the table with you… Making you face your worst fear… Now what?
I’m that girl.