Rain!

Dear Dazzy,

I woke up early this Wednesday morning after a good nights sleep and heard noises-and then with my early morning foggy brain slowly realized it was rain!

Hearing that soft rain hit the roof always reminds me of the Stevie Ray Vaughn song, " The Sky Is Cryin' "-and now I can really relate, 'cause its what I do, too.

It's getting old, ya know? I don't want to cry anymore.

I just don't know how to make it stop.

Everything has a memory attached to it-where I sleep, where I eat, where I shop, where I walk the dogs, where I work, the car the house even most of my clothes-they all contains pieces of our relationship.

I know in time I will be comforted by that thought, but goddamn-right now I am over all of this mourning.

Honestly.

Know what else I am really getting sick of?

People who say stupid, heartless things without even knowing that they are piercing my heart when they do it.

Good friends, acquaintances, family-doesn't matter.

They cut me to the quick without even thinking! GRRRRRRR!

I figured maybe lists of "What not to say" and "What's OK to say" might help:

1) Please don't patronize me and tell me that because Daz and I were "only " together for what you consider a short time-just under 8 years, 5 of those married-that somehow my grief is not as great as if we had been together for 20 or so.

That belittles my marriage and undermines my intelligence.

2) Please don't tell me that because I am a homebody/family type that I'll feel better when I replace my late hubby- that is so awful on so many levels that I can't even wrap my head around it. If I live another 30 or so years of course I would rather not be alone-but no one will ever take Dazzy's place in my heart or in my life. EVER.

3) Grief and mourning are not the same thing. Grief is emotion, and mourning is an action.

I am actively mourning my late hubby. It is the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life.

I have grieved before, and let me tell anyone who is reading, losing a spouse is NOT like losing a parent or a grandparent or a pet; and yes I have lost every one of those things. The pain that comes close? Losing a child. That may actually be worse.

However, losing a spouse who loved you and who was much loved in return creates a special kind of black hole in the very fabric of your soul. It is NOT like divorce, nor could it ever hold a candle to it. Please don't compare my situation to a divorce. It not even apples and oranges; it's apples and f***ing Jupiter!

I realize that some people do lose a spouse in the midst of a crappy marriage, or one where they were not equals. I feel sorry for them. They have a guilt to carry that I wish on no one.

Please don't attempt to make me feel better by saying that time would have cooled Dazzles and my attraction to one another, as if then it would have been OK for him to die.

I know if anything our love would have deepened and grown stronger.

I know it like I know the sky is blue. This makes my loss harder still.

What you CAN say:

The whole "I'm sorry" thing is weird to me. Think you're sorry? I'm sorriest of all.

Just tell me that you wish me peace in my heart. Happiness for my kids. A break from the crying. A good day.

I have no clue how long this will take. I wish I did!

I decide every day when I open my eyes and look at the spot where my larrikan of a husband used to lie that I will have a day filled with optimism.

That I will look for the good in my students and enjoy the convertible with the top down and that with some positive thinking it will be a good day.

When I have to fight those other condesending words, however, it puts me into a tailspin.

I crash and burn and cry more than I believe is humanly possible.

And I am so very tired of crying.

As always, babe, thanks for "listening" to my rant. I love you. Always.

Kisses, Wifey