Some days I'm particularly tired of all this widow crap and today is definitely one of those days! I hate being a widow. I hate hearing about all the widow crap. I hate it, hate it, hate it!
Another widow this week. I hate that.
I sit in meetings at work with two other widows and I hate that I have this in common with them. I don't want to make friends because we are widows. I don't want to live my life as a widow. I hate being a damn widow!
I don't want to fly to San Diego just because I'm a widow. I don't want to run a widow's 5k. I don't want to hear about other women becoming widows. It's not fair. It sucks and I surely don't want others to go through this crap!
I don't want to be known as a widow. I don't want people I know to look at me and think 'she's a widow' or 'her husband died.' I hate being a widow. This is not how the fairy tale was supposed to end!
I hate looking at complete strangers and being mad that their husbands are alive. I hate looking at fat, out-of-shape men who can barely breathe and walk and think, 'why does he get to live?' Or better yet, what about the drunks, chain smokers and alcoholics who live to a ripe old age. Who wrote these damn rules anyway?
I don't want to hear about how your husband got a second chance. I don't care. I'm suffering and I'm a damn widow! Do you even think before you speak? I don't wish ill harm on anyone, but don't rub your good luck in my face!
I hate feeling sick when I see men playing with their kids. I watch them hold their hands as they walk, splash around in the pool as they swim, laugh and smile as they tell funny stories. My kids don't get that. It's not jealousy...it's pain. I'm happy for those who have a NORMAL life, but it makes me sad that we don't.
And last but not least, DO NOT FORCE YOUR RELIGIOUS BELIEFS ON ME! I do NOT believe in God and there is nothing you can do about that...just like there's nothing I can do about being a widow.
I hate all this widow crap!
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Being Single
Being Single...
- sucks
- is lonely
- takes time to get used to
- has it's good days
- has it's bad days
- isn't a disease
- is very common
- makes parenting challenging
- causes you to think a lot
- reminds you of what you've lost
- is tiring
- requires strength
- isn't for the weak
- allows you to find yourself
- let's you focus on your children
- throws you into a whole new realm
- introduces you to new things, places, and people
- makes male friends of many years think you're an available object put there for their own satisfaction
- gives others a false impression that you need to be with someone
- makes people feel sorry for you when you're alone
- turns you into a 3rd wheel
- makes people ask when you're going to start dating
- is not how society views happiness and worth
- is just an adjective
- is not where I thought I'd be today.
Cedar Point 2010 - Friday, June 25
Cedar Point was really tough this year.
I cried about 6 times during the twelve hours we were there.
Jimmy had to buy our tickets.
I didn't stop at the Fitter's table.
It was hot and sunny, so I tried to hide behind my sunglasses.
It didn't feel right.
Because I was sad, I was a lousy partner for Laura.
Only rode a handful of rides.
If my memory serves me correctly, this year was much harder than last.
"I need five tickets, please."
"Say 'hi' to Mrs. Karn"
My nose was sore from the scratchy paper towel.
Near dusk, I spotted an old union brother of Kevin's. Kevin worked with him for several years during his apprenticeship and after. About twelve years ago, Al retired. He didn't come to the funeral. I hadn't seen him since before Kevin passed away, but I knew he had to know, through the union, about Kevin's untimely death. We caught eyes and smiled. I could tell he knew who I was. He welcomed me with a hug. I asked how he was doing. He asked where Kevin was. I've been trying to find the right words to describe how I felt and what I thought. It took me by surprise. I said, "Al, Kevin passed away almost two years ago." He looked, I don't know, remorseful maybe. He replied, "Oh, that's right, my son did tell me that." Tears started to creep out of the corner of my left eye and trickle down my face. All I could think was that Kevin's death had no bearing on this man's life.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
I cried about 6 times during the twelve hours we were there.
Jimmy had to buy our tickets.
I didn't stop at the Fitter's table.
It was hot and sunny, so I tried to hide behind my sunglasses.
It didn't feel right.
Because I was sad, I was a lousy partner for Laura.
Only rode a handful of rides.
If my memory serves me correctly, this year was much harder than last.
"I need five tickets, please."
"Say 'hi' to Mrs. Karn"
My nose was sore from the scratchy paper towel.
Near dusk, I spotted an old union brother of Kevin's. Kevin worked with him for several years during his apprenticeship and after. About twelve years ago, Al retired. He didn't come to the funeral. I hadn't seen him since before Kevin passed away, but I knew he had to know, through the union, about Kevin's untimely death. We caught eyes and smiled. I could tell he knew who I was. He welcomed me with a hug. I asked how he was doing. He asked where Kevin was. I've been trying to find the right words to describe how I felt and what I thought. It took me by surprise. I said, "Al, Kevin passed away almost two years ago." He looked, I don't know, remorseful maybe. He replied, "Oh, that's right, my son did tell me that." Tears started to creep out of the corner of my left eye and trickle down my face. All I could think was that Kevin's death had no bearing on this man's life.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Thursday, June 24
Thursday was June 24th. In two months my children and I will have been in mourning for two years. Kevin left us 22 months ago on a warm August Sunday morning. I often flash back to that devastating day. I replay the events, as I remember them, over and over again. I think about it less frequently than a year ago, but it hits at anytime and anyplace – very unpredictable.
This past week has been somber. More frustrating than anything is that I can’t control it or even explain it. One minute I’m laughing and then someone makes a harmless comment and my throat begins to burn and swell and I struggle to suck in enough air. I had no idea it was humanly possible to ache internally so much and cry so many tears.
I work downtown in the middle of lots of activity. I tend to watch life go by outside my 11th floor window. I’m curious about all the people walking, running, riding the bus and driving their cars. My mind drifts to my sad self and I wonder how many of these people are dealing with tragedy…an illness, loss, financial strain or relationship issues. As I pass unknown faces on the busy sidewalk, I look into their eyes to see if I can recognize any sign of grief. No, I can never tell. Just like they have no idea I’ve lost my husband and I’m suffering terribly inside.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
This past week has been somber. More frustrating than anything is that I can’t control it or even explain it. One minute I’m laughing and then someone makes a harmless comment and my throat begins to burn and swell and I struggle to suck in enough air. I had no idea it was humanly possible to ache internally so much and cry so many tears.
I work downtown in the middle of lots of activity. I tend to watch life go by outside my 11th floor window. I’m curious about all the people walking, running, riding the bus and driving their cars. My mind drifts to my sad self and I wonder how many of these people are dealing with tragedy…an illness, loss, financial strain or relationship issues. As I pass unknown faces on the busy sidewalk, I look into their eyes to see if I can recognize any sign of grief. No, I can never tell. Just like they have no idea I’ve lost my husband and I’m suffering terribly inside.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
I've had my van for 15 months now. Yesterday, the odometer flipped to 25,000 miles. Three months ago the dealership told me I needed new tires. This aggravates me because no new car should need new tires after just 25,000 miles! I figured I’d wait until the end of summer to buy new ones.
Yesterday, the trusty orange light illuminated on my dash board to let me know the back driver’s side tire was low on air. I stopped at the gas station on my way to work to fill it up. After scrounging around my purse and car, I found three quarters to put into the machine. What a rip off!
Last night I decided I’d take the car tonight to get four new tires. Expecting issues this morning, I rummaged through the house until I found three more quarters. Running late for work, I headed out the door to find a completely flat, un-drivable tire. Ugh!
Thinking quickly, I ran back into the house and grabbed Kellie’s car keys deciding I’d deal with it after work. I had a sticky, smelly, dirty, drive into work. I honestly don’t know how I gave birth to two daughters that are utter pigs :)
As I was making my whole wheat peanut butter toast at work, it dawned on me that I didn’t flip out, get stressed, and fall apart. I had to figure out what to do and I did it. Had Kevin been here, I wouldn’t have put forth the effort to problem solve. Instead, I would’ve called him at work expecting him to come home and fix it. And, he would’ve because he was kind like that.
I’m by no means a stupid person. I’ve always been forward, smart thinking, and capable. However, Kevin was my security blanket for almost 20 years. We were partners. I helped him and he helped me. We did for each other. I’ve become much more independent than I already was. I can take care of myself and my kids. It’s nice to know I’ll make it. I can get through this, as much as it truly sucks, I can survive if I choose to do so.
But, in all honesty, it was very nice to need him…I still do!
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Yesterday, the trusty orange light illuminated on my dash board to let me know the back driver’s side tire was low on air. I stopped at the gas station on my way to work to fill it up. After scrounging around my purse and car, I found three quarters to put into the machine. What a rip off!
Last night I decided I’d take the car tonight to get four new tires. Expecting issues this morning, I rummaged through the house until I found three more quarters. Running late for work, I headed out the door to find a completely flat, un-drivable tire. Ugh!
Thinking quickly, I ran back into the house and grabbed Kellie’s car keys deciding I’d deal with it after work. I had a sticky, smelly, dirty, drive into work. I honestly don’t know how I gave birth to two daughters that are utter pigs :)
As I was making my whole wheat peanut butter toast at work, it dawned on me that I didn’t flip out, get stressed, and fall apart. I had to figure out what to do and I did it. Had Kevin been here, I wouldn’t have put forth the effort to problem solve. Instead, I would’ve called him at work expecting him to come home and fix it. And, he would’ve because he was kind like that.
I’m by no means a stupid person. I’ve always been forward, smart thinking, and capable. However, Kevin was my security blanket for almost 20 years. We were partners. I helped him and he helped me. We did for each other. I’ve become much more independent than I already was. I can take care of myself and my kids. It’s nice to know I’ll make it. I can get through this, as much as it truly sucks, I can survive if I choose to do so.
But, in all honesty, it was very nice to need him…I still do!
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Shopping Spree
After work, the kids and I jumped in the car and took off on a shopping spree. Well, I really shouldn't call it a spree because it was overdue and we are preparing for our July vacation to Myrtle Beach. After making a serious dent in my checking account at Kohl's, we went to the mall to pick up one last item...Kellie's all black high top Converse tennis shoes. We stopped at a few other stores along the way. As the five of us walked past the store windows with the crazy, bald-headed mannequins, I couldn't help but think how perfect the moment would be if only Kevin were with us.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Monday, June 21, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Number Two
I wanted to take the kids to the cemetery today and place flowers on the grave. The grocery store was completely sold out of flowers. We didn't make it to the grave. It may be best that way. Maybe not.
I wondered if they knew when they opened their eyes this morning what day it was. This day must have a whole new meaning to them. They have many, many more of these to remind them of how they were cheated. Cheated out of kisses and hugs. Cheated out of all the wonderful things he had to offer them. They don't even realize yet how cheated they've been. It will hit them, eventually. Today is number two. It's the second Father's Day since he's passed.
I caught myself asking why about a dozen times yesterday. I'm never going to know why. But, it doesn't stop me from asking.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Father's Day
My sister-in-law called to say she was on her way to my house with our brother-in-law's birthday gift. She needed the boys to come out and help her carry it in. She wanted to keep it at my house so he didn't see it. His birthday is on Father's Day. This is the brother that reminds me so much of Kevin.
I told Zack to watch for Aunt Laura and help her when she got here. He asked me what we were getting him for Father's Day. I clarified it was a birthday gift and his birthday happened to be on Father's Day.
Ouch. That stings.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
A prayer to St. Anthony
I can't count on my fingers and toes how many times I think of you each day.
The days are getting easier, my smiles come more often, and I sleep better, but it doesn't mean I'm not in pain.
I'm not sure which stage of grief I'm in or which ones I've gone through but I'm: sad, in shock, in disbelief, mad, and heartbroken.
You're still the last thing I think of before I close my eyes each night and the first thing I think of when I wake.
If I could turn back time, I'd tell you not to go to that race, even if it meant you thought I was a nagging bitch. I wish I would've been a bitch that day.
The tears still flow. I'm crying right now.
You broke my heart and I broke yours. I'm sorry.
I see me in the mirror again. It's just not the me you knew.
I picture myself very old, gray, and weathered with years of sadness hobbling up to our eternal resting place with a walker, crying.
The kids are getting older, bigger, more mature. You're not here to guide them.
I worry about what's going to happen four years from now.
I looked at the calendar today. It's June 17, 2010. Twenty-ten. And I rip another page off my daily calendar.
You made me a promise and you broke it.
I've recently been told to pray to St. Anthony to have something returned to me. It didn't work.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
I waited too long
Ugh! I'm so upset. One of the side effects of this disease, widowhood, is becoming a procrastinator and having difficulty with making decisions. Issues I've never had in my life. Some days I regret not cremating Kevin. Other days I get mad at myself for burying him at Holy Cross because of all their crappy rules. But, when death happens at a young age unexpectedly there really isn't time to think about all the important decisions that have to be made in a very short amount of time. Decisions you have to live with forever.
Ever since he was placed down below the earth's surface for eternity I've wanted to buy the four plots next to ours. I wanted to buy them for the kids. I wanted us to be together and I didn't want strangers to reside there. I only had to worry about the left side because a tree is on the right. I know. You don't have to say it. This is completely crazy. But, it is what it is. I can't help it. I really did NOT want anyone other than family next to Kevin. I have to visit that God damned grave for the rest of my stinking life!
Well, sure enough, as with all things lately, I waited too long. I went to the cemetery today and a hole has been dug. Right. Next. To. Our. Spot! Son of a bitch.
I feel bad for being so upset. That hole has been prepared for someone's loved one.
Then, I realized they moved our headstone. They had to in order to dig the hole and cover it until tomorrow. I looked around and found it several feet away on the other side of the tree. Just then, reality hit me in the face. That stupid rock doesn't mean a damn thing. It has no significance. He isn't the stone. It just marks a spot. It's a marker. It doesn't matter if it's there, or not. He's not there either. He's gone. Which is why I question myself all the time about even visiting the grave. For what? His body sits entombed several feet below the ground, but he's not there! He's not here! He's nowhere and I'm left HERE to suffer through it. God damn this whole fucking thing!
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Ever since he was placed down below the earth's surface for eternity I've wanted to buy the four plots next to ours. I wanted to buy them for the kids. I wanted us to be together and I didn't want strangers to reside there. I only had to worry about the left side because a tree is on the right. I know. You don't have to say it. This is completely crazy. But, it is what it is. I can't help it. I really did NOT want anyone other than family next to Kevin. I have to visit that God damned grave for the rest of my stinking life!
Well, sure enough, as with all things lately, I waited too long. I went to the cemetery today and a hole has been dug. Right. Next. To. Our. Spot! Son of a bitch.
I feel bad for being so upset. That hole has been prepared for someone's loved one.
Then, I realized they moved our headstone. They had to in order to dig the hole and cover it until tomorrow. I looked around and found it several feet away on the other side of the tree. Just then, reality hit me in the face. That stupid rock doesn't mean a damn thing. It has no significance. He isn't the stone. It just marks a spot. It's a marker. It doesn't matter if it's there, or not. He's not there either. He's gone. Which is why I question myself all the time about even visiting the grave. For what? His body sits entombed several feet below the ground, but he's not there! He's not here! He's nowhere and I'm left HERE to suffer through it. God damn this whole fucking thing!
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Monday, June 14, 2010
My Late Husband
No, he's not late for an appointment. He doesn't have timeliness issues. He's dead. I'm the one with issues. Lately, I've been in new social settings that have become...challenging. I refer to him as my husband and I refer to his family as my in-laws. Of course, that would lead people to assume I'm married. Because I'm meeting new people and moving forward with developing a new chapter in my life, these people don't know right away that I'm a widow. I'm getting tired of it coming up in everyday conversation. But, at the same time, I need to talk about it. So, there's really no answer on how to handle that.
I just can't seem to say 'my late husband' in order to clarify my status. It makes it very final, very real, and very unfair. I need to work on this. It's hard to reprogram my brain to think in a new way when it's been saying and doing things one way for 20 years.
In-laws can often be synonymous with many unpleasant adjectives. Not for me. Kevin's parents are wonderful people and the abundant sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews in his family have enriched our lives ten fold. My kids and I are more than lucky to have them in our lives, now and forever.
Kevin will always be my husband. Nothing will ever change that. If I should ever remarry, I will have two husbands - my late husband and my current husband. I didn't think it was possible to love two men at the same time, but I'm now aware that is the only way to ever have another relationship. I will never stop loving Kevin. So, maybe I'll get lucky a second time and find someone who is patient and understanding and will put up with me loving him and Kevin, too.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
I just can't seem to say 'my late husband' in order to clarify my status. It makes it very final, very real, and very unfair. I need to work on this. It's hard to reprogram my brain to think in a new way when it's been saying and doing things one way for 20 years.
In-laws can often be synonymous with many unpleasant adjectives. Not for me. Kevin's parents are wonderful people and the abundant sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews in his family have enriched our lives ten fold. My kids and I are more than lucky to have them in our lives, now and forever.
Kevin will always be my husband. Nothing will ever change that. If I should ever remarry, I will have two husbands - my late husband and my current husband. I didn't think it was possible to love two men at the same time, but I'm now aware that is the only way to ever have another relationship. I will never stop loving Kevin. So, maybe I'll get lucky a second time and find someone who is patient and understanding and will put up with me loving him and Kevin, too.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Things I want to do
Things I want to do:
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
- Give him a kiss
- Tell him I love him
- Smile...all the time
- Rest peacefully
- Fight with him
- Drive in the car while he holds my hand
- See his smile
- Call him after work
- Share my secrets with him
- Go on vacation together
- Get on each other's nerves
- Eat his City Chicken - with him
- Stress about money
- Get fat together
- Wear my wedding ring
- Wash his dirty work clothes
- Give him a haircut
- Tell him I'm sorry
- Cry on his shoulder
- Say I'm Mrs. Karn
- Celebrate our wedding anniversary
- Wash the dishes while he cuts the grass
- Send him an email telling him I love him
- Take a picture with him
- Ask him to take my car to the gas station and fill it up
- Bake him a birthday cake
- Have my FB status say I'm married to him
- Lie in bed on a hot summer's night sweating...next to him
- Watch him grow old, gray and wrinkly
- Nag him to shave
- Tell him the dryer needs fixed
- Watch him sleep in his recliner
- Go to church with him
- Yell at him for forgetting my birthday
- Dance with him
- Vent to him about my worries
- Telll everyone how lucky I am to have such an amazing husband
- Wake up in the morning and find out none of this ever happened
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Isn't that what fathers are for?
I had a bad, very bad moment today.
In a meeting at work with my boss and two program office ladies from CA.
Tried to get to know each other a bit.
Got on the topic of kids.
My boss said something about her two daughters...I can't remember what.
One of the CA ladies said, "Isn't that what fathers are for?"
Holy shit...that hit like a ton of bricks.
I really fought hard not to lose it.
Almost had to leave the room.
Felt my face get red.
Couldn't look at them.
I think I hid it well.
It hurt.
I feel like less of a parent because I'm the only parent.
Having a career is tough when you have to take care of four kids.
I wonder when I'll be able to participate in regular, everyday conversations without it making me cry.
I wanted to say, "Well, what the fuck are you supposed to do if their father died?"
And, by the way, yes, that's exactly what fathers are for.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
In a meeting at work with my boss and two program office ladies from CA.
Tried to get to know each other a bit.
Got on the topic of kids.
My boss said something about her two daughters...I can't remember what.
One of the CA ladies said, "Isn't that what fathers are for?"
Holy shit...that hit like a ton of bricks.
I really fought hard not to lose it.
Almost had to leave the room.
Felt my face get red.
Couldn't look at them.
I think I hid it well.
It hurt.
I feel like less of a parent because I'm the only parent.
Having a career is tough when you have to take care of four kids.
I wonder when I'll be able to participate in regular, everyday conversations without it making me cry.
I wanted to say, "Well, what the fuck are you supposed to do if their father died?"
And, by the way, yes, that's exactly what fathers are for.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Epiphany
About five minutes ago I had an epiphany...
This evening, my youngest child Bradley graduated from 8th grade. He graduated from a school that was a large part of mine and Kevin's lives for years. We volunteered there, sent all four of our kids to school there, coached, sat on boards, fundraised, made friends there, went to church there, and the list goes on. As of 8:30pm tonight, there is nothing tying me to all of it anymore. Tying me to my past. My past with Kevin. This era was a huge part of our married life and it's all over. It's gone. Just like him. What's left behind is a hollow feeling in my heart and a pit in my belly.
We now move onto a new school, a new group of teachers and parents, a whole new set of traditions. Not one of these people knew Kevin. They can't conceptualize him. They don't know what he looked like or how wonderful he was. They will never see his great smile or shake his hand. Kevin will never paint his face green and put on a silly wig and cheer for the Holy Name basketball team. I'll do it. But, I'll have to do it alone.
Maybe a new beginning is what we need. Then again, maybe not. Things were just fine the way they were.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
This evening, my youngest child Bradley graduated from 8th grade. He graduated from a school that was a large part of mine and Kevin's lives for years. We volunteered there, sent all four of our kids to school there, coached, sat on boards, fundraised, made friends there, went to church there, and the list goes on. As of 8:30pm tonight, there is nothing tying me to all of it anymore. Tying me to my past. My past with Kevin. This era was a huge part of our married life and it's all over. It's gone. Just like him. What's left behind is a hollow feeling in my heart and a pit in my belly.
We now move onto a new school, a new group of teachers and parents, a whole new set of traditions. Not one of these people knew Kevin. They can't conceptualize him. They don't know what he looked like or how wonderful he was. They will never see his great smile or shake his hand. Kevin will never paint his face green and put on a silly wig and cheer for the Holy Name basketball team. I'll do it. But, I'll have to do it alone.
Maybe a new beginning is what we need. Then again, maybe not. Things were just fine the way they were.
No tears tonight. But, I was fully aware of what was missing.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Dead Woman Walking
"You'll know it's bad when they take you to the little waiting room." Perfection by Julie Metz
I look back on those quick moments. The brief snapshot in time when our lives stood still. When everything swirled around me and I was so naive. How foolish to not see what was coming. What did I think they were going to tell me when the three of them walked towards me and took just me into that little room and left everyone else standing there wondering, waiting, hearts pounding? I literally thought they were going to tell me he was fine...sitting up in a hospital bed down the hall sipping ginger ale.
"I slid off my chair to the floor and screamed." Perfection by Julie Metz
That's exactly how it happened. The female doctor and the female nurses told me to sit down. The doctor sat in the chair next to me. She looked me in the face. I could almost feel my heart creeping up my throat and out of my mouth as I tried to catch my breath. Her mouth opened, her lips moved and words began to slip from her tongue. I don't believe she finished her sentence that started something like, "He came in and we worked on him for a long time" before I cut her off and asked, "Is he alive?" I don't know what compelled me to even ask such a question. It simply was not an option. Instantly, tears formed in her eyes as she shook her head no. That's when I slid out of my chair to the floor and screamed. I don't know why my body involuntarily left that chair. I recall crying out for what seemed liked minutes. Later, I found out that everyone waiting in the larger waiting room knew right then he was gone. Included in that group were our four children. In that moment, their father slipped away forever in their mother's screams. They would never see him alive again.
"...lifeless body on the gurney...his arms were already stiff and cold and his fingers were curled and blue. He had a bruise on the left side of his face." Perfection by Julie Metz
I recall walking into the room and being overcome with his lifelessness. I reached out to touch his arm and recoiled when I felt that he was cold and stiff. I couldn't bare the thought of remembering him like that. Cold like the stainless steel room. How could I have gotten to him so late? How could he have been gone so long that he was already cold? All I could think was that he died without me there with him. He had been lying there waiting for me. How could I let him die alone? I pulled the sheet back and observed the details of his body. His shirt had been cut open and electrodes were still attached to several areas of his chest. He still had his tennis shoes on. The tube was protruding from his mouth and I couldn't understand why he had blood in his goatee. I looked for his wedding ring. Not there, as usual.
The tell-tale signs of his last moments were on his knuckles. I knew right away when I saw them that he died before he hit the ground. He had wounds on them that told me he never let go of the handlebars. He didn't reach out to break his fall. I don't recall noticing bruises or scratches on his face at that time. So, I was extremely upset when I entered the funeral home to find him at the wrong end of the casket. Our friends, the husband and wife funeral directors, explained that it was best to turn him the other way in the casket so the evidence of his fall wasn't so visible on his face. I'm haunted by his upside down position. I often think as I stand at his grave if he was placed in the ground properly. Is his head at the end where our polished stone is placed? The torture a widow endures at her own expense.
My memory fails me on a daily basis. However, it manages to haunt me over and over again with the details of that day. If only I could have a few seconds. I'm not asking for an eternity. Just moments to tell him one last time that I love him, one last kiss, one last hug, one last look deep into his captivating eyes. I told him a million times that I loved him, but somehow it just doesn't seem like it was enough.
My future was stolen from me. I had a firm grasp on it and somehow it was torn from my hands. Torn without a choice. It was a short walk from the little waiting room, down the hall, and around the corner to where he laid, patiently waiting. I was being led to my own death. Dead woman walking.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
I look back on those quick moments. The brief snapshot in time when our lives stood still. When everything swirled around me and I was so naive. How foolish to not see what was coming. What did I think they were going to tell me when the three of them walked towards me and took just me into that little room and left everyone else standing there wondering, waiting, hearts pounding? I literally thought they were going to tell me he was fine...sitting up in a hospital bed down the hall sipping ginger ale.
"I slid off my chair to the floor and screamed." Perfection by Julie Metz
That's exactly how it happened. The female doctor and the female nurses told me to sit down. The doctor sat in the chair next to me. She looked me in the face. I could almost feel my heart creeping up my throat and out of my mouth as I tried to catch my breath. Her mouth opened, her lips moved and words began to slip from her tongue. I don't believe she finished her sentence that started something like, "He came in and we worked on him for a long time" before I cut her off and asked, "Is he alive?" I don't know what compelled me to even ask such a question. It simply was not an option. Instantly, tears formed in her eyes as she shook her head no. That's when I slid out of my chair to the floor and screamed. I don't know why my body involuntarily left that chair. I recall crying out for what seemed liked minutes. Later, I found out that everyone waiting in the larger waiting room knew right then he was gone. Included in that group were our four children. In that moment, their father slipped away forever in their mother's screams. They would never see him alive again.
"...lifeless body on the gurney...his arms were already stiff and cold and his fingers were curled and blue. He had a bruise on the left side of his face." Perfection by Julie Metz
I recall walking into the room and being overcome with his lifelessness. I reached out to touch his arm and recoiled when I felt that he was cold and stiff. I couldn't bare the thought of remembering him like that. Cold like the stainless steel room. How could I have gotten to him so late? How could he have been gone so long that he was already cold? All I could think was that he died without me there with him. He had been lying there waiting for me. How could I let him die alone? I pulled the sheet back and observed the details of his body. His shirt had been cut open and electrodes were still attached to several areas of his chest. He still had his tennis shoes on. The tube was protruding from his mouth and I couldn't understand why he had blood in his goatee. I looked for his wedding ring. Not there, as usual.
The tell-tale signs of his last moments were on his knuckles. I knew right away when I saw them that he died before he hit the ground. He had wounds on them that told me he never let go of the handlebars. He didn't reach out to break his fall. I don't recall noticing bruises or scratches on his face at that time. So, I was extremely upset when I entered the funeral home to find him at the wrong end of the casket. Our friends, the husband and wife funeral directors, explained that it was best to turn him the other way in the casket so the evidence of his fall wasn't so visible on his face. I'm haunted by his upside down position. I often think as I stand at his grave if he was placed in the ground properly. Is his head at the end where our polished stone is placed? The torture a widow endures at her own expense.
My memory fails me on a daily basis. However, it manages to haunt me over and over again with the details of that day. If only I could have a few seconds. I'm not asking for an eternity. Just moments to tell him one last time that I love him, one last kiss, one last hug, one last look deep into his captivating eyes. I told him a million times that I loved him, but somehow it just doesn't seem like it was enough.
My future was stolen from me. I had a firm grasp on it and somehow it was torn from my hands. Torn without a choice. It was a short walk from the little waiting room, down the hall, and around the corner to where he laid, patiently waiting. I was being led to my own death. Dead woman walking.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Broken Heart
"To us there was only one true love in everyone's life; we had no concept of compromise, or retries."
~Susie Salmon in The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold
I've been wondering lately if my heart is broken. Not in the figurative sense - as in pain and suffering - I already know it's broken in that way. What I mean, is that I think it's literally broken. I cannot seem to connect to certain people. My relationships are strained. Imagining falling in love with someone again is not within reach. Developing emotions, feelings, or connections for certain others is like trying to understand a foreign language...I can't. I'm trying. It's just not working. Patience, I keep telling myself. Give it time. Time! I can't pinpoint exactly what's stopping me. That's a lie, yes I can. I just won't share it.
Some have been patient and understanding, to an extent. Others, have not. Some I worry about not understanding, or waiting. I'm doing my best and I guess that's all I can do. Maybe it's me. Yes, I know it's me. But, then I catch myself asking how much is it me? When will I know if it's really me? All me?
Fear flows through my veins. The fear of never being able to feel again. Never wanting to feel again. Being trapped in this body with this broken heart forever. Fear of falling into a comfort zone, one that is as habitual as eating my peanut butter toast each morning. One where I wake up 30 years from now and it's all still the same. No meaning. Just emptiness. I fear it because I know it already and I know others who know it. I've always felt sorry for them. Now, I'm wondering if I will end up feeling sorry for me. Or, really, fear that I will feel sorry for me. Fear that Susie Salmon, and I, are right.
"...a wife had to move on, that she couldn't be trapped for the rest of her life by a man who was frozen in time." Susie Salmon
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
~Susie Salmon in The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold
I've been wondering lately if my heart is broken. Not in the figurative sense - as in pain and suffering - I already know it's broken in that way. What I mean, is that I think it's literally broken. I cannot seem to connect to certain people. My relationships are strained. Imagining falling in love with someone again is not within reach. Developing emotions, feelings, or connections for certain others is like trying to understand a foreign language...I can't. I'm trying. It's just not working. Patience, I keep telling myself. Give it time. Time! I can't pinpoint exactly what's stopping me. That's a lie, yes I can. I just won't share it.
Some have been patient and understanding, to an extent. Others, have not. Some I worry about not understanding, or waiting. I'm doing my best and I guess that's all I can do. Maybe it's me. Yes, I know it's me. But, then I catch myself asking how much is it me? When will I know if it's really me? All me?
Fear flows through my veins. The fear of never being able to feel again. Never wanting to feel again. Being trapped in this body with this broken heart forever. Fear of falling into a comfort zone, one that is as habitual as eating my peanut butter toast each morning. One where I wake up 30 years from now and it's all still the same. No meaning. Just emptiness. I fear it because I know it already and I know others who know it. I've always felt sorry for them. Now, I'm wondering if I will end up feeling sorry for me. Or, really, fear that I will feel sorry for me. Fear that Susie Salmon, and I, are right.
"...a wife had to move on, that she couldn't be trapped for the rest of her life by a man who was frozen in time." Susie Salmon
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Falling Rock
There is something very therapeutic about exercise. It doesn’t just make you healthy and stronger. It really gives you the opportunity to cleanse your thoughts or immerse yourself in thought. I sat down at my laptop a few times after work with the intentions of writing in my blog. But, I just wasn’t feeling inspired. Everything I started to type, I deleted. After a couple attempts, I thought to myself, even though I feel the need to write today I’m just not feeling it. So, I went on a 24 mile bike ride.
I got about four miles into the ride when I came across our sign. A simple sign that’s been there for as long as I can remember. The sign says ‘Falling Rock.’ Kevin and I always enjoyed the MetroParks by going on walks, bike rides and car rides through the scenic trails. It never failed that every time we’d pass that sign Kevin would look at me with his great smile and say, “That rock’s been falling a long time.” And as sure as the sun rises every day, I would laugh at his silly joke.
When I saw our sign today, I thought about him. I continued to think about him for the next 20 miles. He was such a wonderful husband. Kind. Caring. Generous. A father like no other. It makes me want to grab the world by its shoulders and shake as hard as I can while screaming, “I love him with all my heart.”
For the rest of my life, every time I pass that sign I will remember his face as he smiled and said his customary line. I will never forget how it made me giggle.
Just like the rock that doesn’t stop falling, I will never stop loving him, broken heart and all.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn
I got about four miles into the ride when I came across our sign. A simple sign that’s been there for as long as I can remember. The sign says ‘Falling Rock.’ Kevin and I always enjoyed the MetroParks by going on walks, bike rides and car rides through the scenic trails. It never failed that every time we’d pass that sign Kevin would look at me with his great smile and say, “That rock’s been falling a long time.” And as sure as the sun rises every day, I would laugh at his silly joke.
When I saw our sign today, I thought about him. I continued to think about him for the next 20 miles. He was such a wonderful husband. Kind. Caring. Generous. A father like no other. It makes me want to grab the world by its shoulders and shake as hard as I can while screaming, “I love him with all my heart.”
For the rest of my life, every time I pass that sign I will remember his face as he smiled and said his customary line. I will never forget how it made me giggle.
Just like the rock that doesn’t stop falling, I will never stop loving him, broken heart and all.
Posts
