Memorial Weekend

October 2010

Wow. Didn't expect Memorial weekend to be as hard as it was. I didn't do any preparing (mentally) for the weekend because I just didn't think it would get to me. Wrong. It got to me. The waves have been smashing me against the wall. Again.

It started getting to me when I bought the flowers I would be taking to the cemetery. I bought the flowers on Tuesday and each day I looked at them they made me more sad. By Friday, I just wanted to get rid of them, so the boys and I took them in the rain and cold. The weather was mimicking my mood. Cold. Miserable. Depressed. Next year I am NOT buying flowers until the day we go. Knowing I would be taking those flowers to my husband's grave was so hard. I still don't even want to believe he is really gone. Memorial weekend will now be a big red flashing reminder that my husband is dead. Wait, what am I saying? EVERYTHING is a big red flashing reminder that my husband is dead. Age 35 and dead. It really sucks.

In one of my previous posts I talked about the "magical hug" I had envisioned and dreamed about for the two years Joe was on his mission. Guess what? Totally dreaming about that hug again. This time it WILL be magical and there WILL be music playing in the background while he swings me around kissing and hugging me. Down side? It's going to be a lot longer than two years that I will be dreaming about this hug. By the time I get there the hug I have envisioned will probably have fireworks going off in the background with Jonas finally agreeing to Waltz or Tango or Swing dance with me! Guess its a good thing he has a long time to practice and make our reunion magical! (He better be getting some dance lessons while he waits for me!)

Now. What to do with the rest of my life? It was once mapped out. Someone burned my map. I now have to draw a new one and figure out how to go about living life on this new map. Today my map is blank. I think I just want to continue being mad about Memorial weekend. Maybe another day I will work on that map. Today, I am angry. Angry that my life went from the pictures above to the pictures below. I am only 33 years old! I am now raising three young boys alone. Really? I agreed to this? Really?