Happy: A Quest for Life After Death

Thursday, March 03, 2011

This is Not Over

This is not over. Far from it.

It's been 17 days.

People ask me how I am, and I have a hard time coming up with an answer. "I got out of bed this morning," I say sometimes.

I don't want to get out of bed. I'm fighting an overwhelming urge to stay there. I worried that I would not be able to revisit the place where Mat died, in bed, in the guest bedroom that we moved into when Mat could no longer climb stairs very well. Far from avoiding the room, I find that I feel the most peaceful there.

Part of it must be my craving to fill the void he's left. I want to sleep where he slept, and wear his clothes (the jeans that are a couple of inches too long -- those are Mat's), read everything I can find that he has written, and be with his friends. Mat gave me permission to read his journals, and I did. (I probably would have anyway.)

At least one of my siblings has been staying with us since Mat died, so we are being well taken care of. Dozens of people are offering help and support and encouragement, all of which is making this much easier than it might otherwise be.

Now if only I could sleep.


WinnyNinny PooPoo said...

Hoping you get some rest. I think the weeks directly after losing someone are the hardest because all the activity and all the purpose that drove you for so long is no longer there, so there is more than one type of emptiness. Wishing you did not have this heartbreak.

La Tigre said...

I don't know you or much of your story, and honestly, I came across this by accident. I felt a sudden urge to read it, and instantly became overwhelmed with emotion, having lost someone myself a year ago to cancer. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him and how much he impacted me during my young life. I am so sorry for your loss, and I know that no words bring much comfort, but time passes and those good memories will remain with you forever. I wish you the best.

One Woman's Thoughts said...

I was so delighted to read your post and see that you felt moved to write.
Move each day as you can, somedays are better than others. I know you can say to me, you have no idea. And you're right.
Our lives head us in different directions, but there is always a road ahead. Sometimes we have to clear the path of debris, other times we have to build a bridge, sometimes we have to make a new road or fix the car and at times, you just have to walk. But there is a road there.

This part of life is inevitable, someone dies first. You have purpose, so much reason to be here . . . things to do, things to see, to experience, love to give, laughter and tears to share, and wisdom to impart to others. You have seeds to plant, gardens to fertilize and harvests to gather. Matt did his part on his garden, you still have your own garden. Some of his flower seeds came into your garden and they will intertwine with yours and flourish as you are the Master gardener.
May your days ahead be filled with blessings both great and small.

aly said...

Sometimes, in my blackest moments, getting out of bed is the hardest thing in the world. The fact that you're finding the strength to says an awful lot. I'm sending lots of love and sleepy thoughts your way.

Joe said...

I'm glad to hear something from you. I hope the most difficult time has passed and you'll get better and better. We are all with you and you will never go alone. Wish you have good rest tonight. - Dingding

The Proud Llama said...

Love you, Kimberly. XOXO.

TGP said...

It takes courage to face each day - for that you are heroic.

It takes stamina to endure each day - for that you are an athlete.

It takes strength to do it alone.

Sending you support and strength from far away but wishing I was next door.

Much Love,

lifeinredshoes said...

You may need a little help with sleep. Don't worry, it's not a bad thing.

EmilyCC said...

I love you, my friend.

Katie said...

Regarding the "road" One Woman's Thoughts posted -- I would like to add....and sometimes you have to just pull over to the side and cry for a while. Take all of the time you need to mourn and grieve. There is no time table. Be gentle to yourself.

The Blog Writer said...

May the good Lord give you strength, courage and more. Sending you prayers and best wishes.

Rachel Morrow said...

I'm so glad you are feeling supported during this incredibly difficult time (quite the understatment). I wish I could be there, but know that you and the boys are never far from my mind.
I love you and continue to pray for you, Mat and the boys,

contigo said...

One of my favorite movies is "Out of Africa". There is a scene where Dennis gives Karen a compass. She says something like, "Perhaps, he knew what I did not, that the earth was made round so we could not see too far ahead." I often think of that during hard times. I am not sure why but it give me comfort when I am in a difficult moment. I guess maybe the concrete idea of a compass, "to steer by" makes me know at least I have a direction - no matter how terrible right now is.

My heart aches for you. You are my hero - even for just getting out of bed. That first step is the hardest to make!

Please let us help - if we can. I hope the chocolate cherry bread helped a little. . .

We love you!

PS Sorry for the fragmented thoughts. It is late but your post touched me so much I had to comment.

Jeff Porter (Sherwood OR) said...

Hi Kim, my wife Laurie and I just joined facebook last week and I was just browsing links related to our "click" from Sherwood, Oregon and found your blog. I wanted to express our condolences for your loss and to let you know our thoughts are with you. I'm sure you remember my sister Hallie, but I wasn't sure if you knew she passed away from cancer recently also. I do understand, and sympathize with your daily struggle watching a loved one slowly die, and finally realize that acceptance begins the healing process. I'm positive that your written thoughts are appreciated by many. Sincerly, Jeff Porter