The hardest times for me are at night. After I put the Marble's to bed I lay in my room and think about how much there were things still left that I wanted to do in my married life. As a family, we moved to Florida almost six years ago to build a life for our children that we weren't able to provide while living in Michigan. I sat back and watched as he moved up in the company and eventually was given the opportunity to further his education and become part owner which was his ultimate goal. While that was all happening, I worked nights so the Marble's didn't have to be in daycare and it allowed me the ability to be there for them during the day even if that meant I went to their school functions in a zombie state because I had been up all night. The important thing was that I was there.
When the time came that we were able to buy a house I was excited. Even though we hired a realtor, I did all the searching. I knew exactly what I wanted and when the house came on the market that had everything I had wished for we were the first inside to see it and the first to make an offer on it. To me buying a house meant being in Florida was official. We had planted our roots and our Marble's had a home, not just some house we were renting. Buying our own home meant no more moving year after year. It meant we had a little piece of Florida that was ours for us to build memories in that a landlord couldn't take away from us. I was my happiest in my house because we had worked so hard to walk through that front door of a place that was finally ours.
Over the year and half that we lived in the house together we were happy. At least I thought we were happy. Everyone else thought we were happy too. There was a sense of accomplishment that I felt and I thought that he felt it too. We set out to do a series of things and the last one was buying a house and we did it and now it was time to set goals for the next several years of our life. We talked about traveling with the kids to the Grand Canyon or the two of us going to the Caribbean. He would joke that I hated the beach and I would tell him if we went to the beach on a vacation I'd enjoy it. We discussed college for the Marble's and how one day we'd like to live on the water so he could have his boat behind the house and fish off the dock. I wanted those things for us. I saw a future of us babysitting our grandkids and he being just as an amazing grandpa as he was a father. Then suddenly it all came to a screeching halt. It stopped so fast I didn't even have time say "wait, hold on...there's still more to do." It felt like I was running full steam right into a brick wall.
So, now I feel like I am standing at that brick wall just staring at it. I stare at it every day and wonder why it's there. What did I do to deserve it to be in my way? Why won't it crumble so I can move on with the journey that I was on? While I am still standing there staring at it, he has already found a way around it and is swiftly moving forward with the life he found on the other side of that wall.
I constantly think about what's going to happen if the Marble's and I have to leave the security of our house. The one thing I want more than anything is for us to be able to stay here because this is home. The Marble's have moved around way too much and with all that is going on the last thing I want for them is to have to leave the memories and comfort of their house. I feel angry that he left us here without him. I feel sadness when the Marble's say, "Mom, can I sleep on Dad's side of the bed tonight?" Then they pause and correct themselves by saying, "I mean the side you don't sleep on." I tell them they can still call it "Dad's side". Because for 12 years it was his side. That was the side that they laid with him on his chest when they were babies and slept soundly. That was the side that they snuggled up with him at night when they couldn't sleep. That was the side of the bed they knew to go to at night when they were scared and needed comfort. It will always be his side. I still look at that empty spot and think of it as his side.
All the uncertainty and lack of closure is frightening. The not knowing triggers enormous amounts of anxiety and prevents me from sleeping or being able to relax. I just want my normal back. I want that life back that I loved living with the person I loved living it with. But, he changed it for me in a way that I could never be able to go back to and instead I am left to find a new normal by myself without the one person who always held my hand when things got rocky. It's a lonely, depressing place. Sometimes I think standing at that brick wall is safer than trying to see what's on the other side.
No comments:
Post a Comment