A Lonely Walk

It's December 31st and it's 59 degrees in Cleveland today. So, I took the dogs for a 2 hour walk. One would think that walking three dogs would be difficult for one person. But, my pooches are angels and they walk great together. I can even walk them with one hand!

There were lots of people out enjoying the unusual sunshine and warm weather. I passed quite a few joggers, owners walking their dogs and couples on a leisurely stroll. It was quiet and peaceful. Everyone walking and driving by got a kick out of my three pups walking along side-by-side so well behaved. Drivers slowed down to smile and wave. Several elderly folks stopped to pet them and compliment me on how cute they are. As a treat, I let them swim in the river.

Exploring the MetroParks was one of our most favorite things to do. Kevin and I spent a lot of time there. I thought about him the entire two hours. I didn't cry, but my stomach got upset and I had an urge to vomit. I think a lot these days about how life, experiences and that very moment would be different if he were still here. We would've walked along, hand-in-hand, chatting about a million things. There may have even been periods of silence and that would've been ok. We fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. No gaps, no holes, nothing missing. We loved each other, respected each other, and were made for each other. It was a very lonely two hour walk.

Tomorrow I will start another year - a new decade - without him. This is how it will be for the rest of my life and there's not one damn thing I can do about it.

Happy New Year to all my readers. I wish you good health, happiness, peace, prosperity and love in 2011. If you've lost a loved one, I hope life is better to you this next year. If you haven't, I hope you don't.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Merry Fuckin Christmas

I feel lost.
I am sad.
I need to talk to Kevin.
This is not how things were supposed to be.
I was cheated.
Another lousy fuckin holiday. Screw Christmas.
I still wish I weren't a chicken.
I wonder if that feeling will ever go away?
I never realized what the living dead really meant.
I get to visit my husband at the cemetery on Christmas morning.
How fucked up is that?


Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

The Gift

Zachary

Christmas is upon us.
Decorations are up.
Presents must be bought.

Zack will be sixteen in February.
He's becoming a young man.
He's so much like his father.

It's time to get him that special gift.
The one he will always remember.
He'll have it all his life.

It's the one his father should've bought him.
The one he will never get to use with his dad.
That special bonding time is gone forever.

I had to buy the gift.
I sought help from Kevin's brother.
I cried all the way home from the store.

Boys need their dads.
Wives need their husbands.
The gift isn't going to mean the same from me.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Perfect Match. If Only.

Have I told you how perfect Kevin and I were for each other? Now, perfect is a pretty strong word and technically our marriage was far from perfect. We had the occasional fight or periods of distance. Regardless, we were right for each other…or, at least, he was pretty darn perfect for me. (I often wonder if he felt the same way. He said he did, but you never know what goes on inside someone’s brain.

For the most part, we did just about everything together. We liked to do the same things and when we didn’t, we were ok with that. Like hunting for example! I’m not about to go shoot poor, helpless, defenseless, Bambi. So, on the rare occasions Kevin wanted to go hunting with his brothers, I said, “Go ahead. I’ll wait right here for you.” On the other hand, he had no desire whatsoever to go to New York City. But, had I asked him to go, he would've. Why? Because when two people care about each other they make sacrifices and they WANT to be together.

Now I find myself lost. None of my friends want to do things with me. Sure, once and a while I’ll get together with someone and hang out, but no one wants to travel, shop, explore the city, or eat a pizza and lay on the couch while watching a movie on a Saturday night. I’ve lost my partner in crime. My carrots are lonely without my peas. I’m not whole because my other ½ died.

All the psychiatrists talk about the stages of loss and grief. One stage is called anger. I’ve never really considered myself to have been in a stage of anger. But, today I want to scream at the world. I want to scream at him for not eating right, not exercising, for going to that Goddamn race, and for dying. I yell inwardly at myself for not cooking healthier and buying healthier foods, for telling him to bring his blood pressure down naturally instead of using meds, and for not being the bitch we all know I can be and making him stay home that deadly day.

If only I had been a better wife and mother. If only I had been there to breathe for him and beg the paramedics to not let him die. If only I had been there to take my shirt off and dry his chest so the shock paddles would have made contact. If only I could have kissed him one last time and told him I loved him so he didn’t die alone.

If only he had been a bad husband and father. If only he had made me miserable. If only I had been looking for a way out anyway. If only I had hated him then this would not hurt so much.

If only.


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