7 days

In the past 7 days my world had changed so much. 7 days ago from right now 8:19am I was a very happy girl. It was 2 days after my birthday. I had a great date with my hubby. Still found a way to have my cake and eat it too. I was cooking a big dinner for my little family... BBQ chicken, loaded baked potato salad, squash casserole, fresh corn on the cob, baked beans, and rolls. I remember the day well. I had cleaned and cooked and was very happy. I felt blessed. On my birthday 4/18 my husband and I went out for an early date. We planned on eating lunch together and doing some shopping. I had already promised my babies we would have pizza for dinner and cookie cake for dessert complete with candles they could help me blow out. My family had a string of bad luck it seemed at the end of 2011 and early 2012. We lost my uncle in December and my other grandfather in January. My uncle had a stroke and because it took the EMT 15 minutes to respond he was without oxygen for too long...and was declared brain dead. My other grandfather lost his battle with Alzheimer's. It had been a rough ending and a rough beginning to a new year. I remember on this date for my Bday walking around with my hubby and feeling uncomfortable. He kept asking me what was wrong... I told him something bad was coming. I don't know why I said that.. I just felt it. He laughed it off...laughed me off as just being anxious because I had left my kids for a little while that day. As a stay at home mom that's a rarity for me... We both remember the conversation quite well he says now its burned into his brain. I told him I was going to cry and my heart was going to break. He laughed it off even more and did his very best to distract me and give me a great Bday shopping trip..and he did. By Friday 4/20 I had forgot it. I am glad I did. I am glad I didn't sit around waiting for the other shoe to drop. I do wish that I had seen him between my birthday and that day. I would have seen him the weekend. I generally always did. I would take my kids out to the farm and would see him on and off through the weekend. I actually go to the farm a few times during the week too... I was just trying to get caught up with housework from where I had gotten lazy around time for my birthday. I don't know what to say.. other than everyday is a struggle. Since his death I go to his house everyday. I was the first one there after he died. I immediately started caring for the animals. Its just a little cabin he built in the middle of the property. Then he fenced it all in so his horses could run free through the whole thing. I sit in his chair on his porch and watch the horse eat the grain I have put out for him. Soon I will put a saddle on that horse and ride it just like he taught me but not yet. I sit in his chair at his table in the cabin and listen to the radio he constantly had playing...classic country and bluegrass. Music I relate to my youth because that is what he always listened to. I can close my eyes for a minute and think that he is just going to stomp up on the porch...and I will hear him yell out to me. The place smells like him. I have laid on his bed and rested my head on his pillow remember all the times when I was little laying my head on his chest or shoulder. Because the world was ok if he was there...and if it wasn't he would make it ok. I have gone to the graveyard almost as much as I have gone to his house. I have sat by his headstone on the ground and watched the sunset... I have set on the ground while the grass got cold and the dew set in. Just waiting.. I don't know what I am waiting for. I know he isn't going to come back to me now. I guess I am waiting for a sense of peace. The logical part of my brain tells me the man was 69 he would have been 70 years old exactly 5 months from the day he died. He said it all the time like a countdown. He said it just like this. "If I live to see my birthday in 5 months I will be 70" I also know that he said on more than one occasion he never wanted to "get down" like other people before he died. What he meant was he didn't want to be sick. He didn't want to be weak. He didn't act 69... he had more life in him than some 40 year olds I know. He lived life wide open. Enjoying ever minute of it. He loved to eat. Biscuits and gravy was a favorite of his. I cooked Christmas breakfast at my Mom's just this past year...and that is what I made. He was there. I gave him a Christmas basket. I stuffed it with homemade pumpkin bread...homemade caramels...peanut brittle...cake truffles...then some of the homemade jams and jellies I made. See he was there in my life everytime I turned around... till now. I took it for granted that he was going to be there. Now I am turning in circles trying to catch just one glimpse of him...knowing there is no glimmer of hope of it. I still feel like I am fake... I still feel like I am underwater and living in slow motion. I still feel like there is this giant hole in my heart that has only temporarily stopped bleeding and any minute now I am going to bleed out all over the floor. I won't though I won't shame him that way. He buried both parents, cousins, his wife, and two sons. He bore it all. I know that I will survive this. Because that is what he wanted. I also know that in all the times I needed support he was there to give it to me... he let me hide in the shelter of his arms... So I am sure he understands that I can't quite bounce back right now without his shoulder to lean on.