It’s begun.
The other day at church, my dad was trying to introduce to me to an old acquaintance of his. Obviously, this acquaintance had heard about what happened, but had no idea who I was.
Dad: This is Sheryll.
Acquaintance: ….
Dad: My daughter.
Acquaintance: ….
Dad: She’s the one who lost her husband.
Acquaintance: Oh! Her!
Turns out that’s all I am now. The girl who lost her husband. Great.
So my mom has issues with my recent posts. After reading the last one, she sat me down and gave me a good talking to. She said (and I’m only paraphrasing slightly here), “Sheryll, I know it’s hard. But it is time for you to move on. You’re just 25. Your whole life is spread out before you. I know you’ll miss your husband with every fiber of your being, but you need to get through this. You’re a strong girl and we’re all here for you. Always.”
I love my mommy.
I also wonder if someone can develop a “mommy-filter” for our blogs. Hmmm.
So after two months of dealing with the sickness and death, I now have to deal with life and surviving. I honestly don’t know which one is worse. It’s a funny business this grieving thing. Emotional rollercoaster is an understatement. I have NO idea what could set me off. I did not cry when they happened to play “our song” on the radio. But I bawled my eyes out the last time I saw a Metro test run. I can handle looking at pictures of Rajeev posing decently, but I cannot handle the goofy ones. I can wear his t-shirts to sleep, wear his ridiculous yellow slippers, and smell his perfume, but I cannot watch the first season of Glee or listen to the new Angry Birds Seasons theme music.
And then there’s the fear. That horrible, paralyzing fear of the things you know you have to do in order to be able to live rather than just survive. Of the things you must leave behind. Of the decisions you must make. Of expectations and realizations. And that the only thing that they have in common is that they all suck.
And the anger. The kind that eats you up from inside. All stemming from one unavoidable fact- that of all the people Rajeev ever knew, he knew me for the shortest time. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Except deal.
Here’s to dealing.
3 comments:
I was about to say I love my mommy too, until I realized that we both share the same Momsie.
Here's to slow thinking!
Love,
your teddy-bear-eyed sister.
(yes they are still dilated.)
You are totally awesome!
I love how you can go through the worst 2 months and still express yourself so well in writing.
Hi-5 to dealing with it.
Here for you, as always. :)
Really identified with the part where you wrote that the worst to deal with was the fact that you spent the shortest time with him.
Well, for what it's worth. This is what I have come to realize in life:
What you mean to someone, and what they mean to you; How much you love them and how much you are loved by them, has no real relation to the amount of time you have spent together.
You could spend years with a person and still feel like a stranger. And you could spend few great moments with someone and love them for life.
Here's to knowing that you were easily the most important person in his life!
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