what if he's watching?

In the widow world some like to say that "he's always with you, where ever you are". To some this may be a comfort.  At first, when Scott died I wanted to feel his presence.  I did have a few very real dreams that I waffle back and forth on whether or not I think it was really him.  I know there is a spiritual world that we don't see but I just don't know if deceased loved ones become a part of that when they pass.

Sometimes I think about what he would think if he was with me, could see me, hear me.  In some situations I feel that I should apologize to him if he were to witness something silly or gross.  Like, who wants to think that their spiritual love might see them in the bathroom?  Gross.  So then is it picky choosy?  He's just there when I need him or when I am upset or need to talk?  That doesn't fit to me either.

Tonight if he were to be here watching I think he'd be so sad.  And knowing Scott, knowing that he hated to be the cause of suffering to the ones he loved - that would be more like hell to him.  To watch me cry so hard that I am sick and gagging.  Uncontrollable sobs.  Pain.  Then exhaustion.  No, I wouldn't want him with me then, him watching helplessly as I suffer because he is gone.

April 4th is fast approaching.  I have a wedding to go to next weekend that I wouldn't miss but also don't know how I'm going to make it through without a break down.  But, as always I feel that I have to keep going.  My best friend's father in law is dying.  It breaks me for her to be so near a loved ones death again when she's had more than her share.  It also brings that heartbreak bubbling back to the surface for myself.  Oh, Pain, when did we become such good friends?

I have little flashbacks to the early times that I don't remember quite so well.  Like the phone call that confirmed he was dead.  The dream state I was in for the funeral.  Feeling like I could NOT walk in to my husband's funeral.  That it couldn't be for our family, for my husband.  No.  My legs betraying me walking forward when I wanted to collapse in a heap.  No one would have blamed me I don't think.  I still can't remember if Taps was played or not?  I remember being handed the flag and being saluted and thanked for his service.  The feeling of people watching me, the curiosity of some, of the pity, the raw emotion.

I did make an appointment with a counselor.  I am NOT looking forward to it.  It may or may not be helpful but either way I am very nervous.  I don't want to tell my story again.  To explain everything...all over...again.  It's a long story and I don't know if she's going to know how to help me.  Sure, people are trained to deal with grief.  My story is complicated.