Tuesday, October 15, 2013


I know I haven't blogged in awhile. Nothing new to say. My camera is still not fixed and I still haven't looked for a new camera so I don't have any pictures of the crafty things I've been up to. I've been knitting a lot, sewing/quilting some and hanging with my pups a lot.

I also regret a lot lately. So, just because basically I'm the only widow I know there are so many things I didn't know going into this experience. I mean, you sort of expect older people to start dying, but my 37 year old husband? No, I didn't expect that. Neither did he. He went to sleep and never woke up. So now, every morning I wake up I think "I made it through another night" and look around at my dogs to make sure I'm really here. I regret selling his truck and so many of his things so soon. Why didn't I keep them? I don't know. I regret not keeping some of his ashes with me. Why didn't I keep them? Well, that one I know. At the time I was creeped out by the idea of keeping his ashes in the house. My advice is this ever happens to you is to keep some aside just in case. Because after the shock and the freakiness fades you might want a piece of your loved one close. I know I wish I had. And, now there is sense that I can't ever move. I can't leave him. I don't want to miss a week taking flowers to his grave, miss that honor. I want his grave to be cared for. If you don't know what I mean you will never know what I mean until this happens to you. There is no explaining it until you've lost someone so deeply close that the thought of ever even leaving their ashes is devastating. I mean, I KNOW they are just ashes. I know. But, even if it was his body buried I would have trouble leaving that too, probably even more. I know he's gone and he doesn't know I'm there talking to him and bringing him flowers.

Regret is a terrible thing. The what-ifs are terrible. What if I had somehow known his heart was giving out? What if he had told me he had chest pain? What if he had finally quit smoking like he was trying to do? What if he had switched doctors to someone who really, really wanted to run tests on every one and somehow it was caught? What if I had known that he had an abnormal ekg when he was in the Army? What if he stopped eating McDonalds? What if I made him only super healthy low fat everything food (that he would have hated)? What if? What if? What if? What if 6 months ago I didn't lose my best friend, my husband, the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and thought I'd watch get old? Or how about what if I could stop thinking what if?

This is an inevitable phase of grief, I know. But it sucks. I feel like nothing is real. Sometimes I question our life together at all. I have pictures as proof but I question myself, my sanity. I replay the words over and over again "Scott is dead". I picture him in the funeral home with the tube in his mouth and have to shake it loose. I HAD to see him to believe it and then I had keep going to see him because it just couldn't be real. Right before Scott went to Korea for a year after we had been married a year, we went on a long vacation to California. I had to get on a plane first to fly back to Tennessee where we were living at the time. I could not leave him. My legs were lead and I could not physically walk away from him. I did, I eventually had to but it was the hardest walk I ever had until the day I had to walk away from him knowing he would be cremated. How could I leave him? I didn't want to but I had no choice. Now people ask me if I am going to move or stay here and I feel the same way.

As always with my posts, I know there is nothing you can say or do to make me feel better and I don't expect it. I just need to talk, get it out. No offense intended in any way but this is for me.