Thursday, September 30, 2010

roots


Fall is in full force. The feeling of the crisp and cool air on my face is a subtle reminder that I am still alive, even though I do not want to be. This the first new season I'm entering with out my beautiful husband, the first fall we will not experience together. Today I woke up at 5 pm, I know it seems pointless to even get up at all at that point. It's trash night so I gathered up the house trash to drag out to the drive way. I decided it was time to dump some of my flower pots from this summer. I went out to the back deck and collected all the pots full of dead flowers. When I pulled them out of their pots I couldn't help but notice their roots. It made me think about my life here in Alaska. Elliott and I started our married life in San Diego. We lived there for 6 months until we were both discharged from the Marine Corps. Shortly after we packed up our Jeep, bought a trailer and headed north to Alaska in spring 2006. I followed him here, I would have followed him anywhere. I wish I could have followed him in death ( I just have to be patient ). We started a new life together. We established ourselves, we bought a house, I started school, Elliott was hired onto the Anchorage Fire Department. Everything was falling into place. We have amazing friends, Elliott's family is here, and we became a part of the fire department family. My point is that we laid down roots. Slowly those roots took hold and were becoming the foundation for our life. Everything is different now. Just like I pulled those plants out of their pots today, I have been pulled from my pot, my safe spot to grow. My roots are fully exposed and I'm vulnerable. I don't know how to salvage what is left. Elliott and I worked so hard to grow the life we had together, and just like the plants in my yard it is dying. The one thing that cannot die is my love for you Elliott. I love you more  than ever and I miss you to the depths of my soul. 

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

stuck on stupid

I had planned on a long post today, I even journaled about what I was going to write. There are quite a few topics bouncing around in my head. I sat here and edited pictures to add and started typing a few different times. The words just wouldn't flow. I just don't have the energy to write about the things I want to. I just hate that. I hate that I have ideas I want to share and things I want to say but I just can't. It's like I get stuck, I feel stupid and confused. I guess it's the " widow brain ". I have the thoughts, but I can't express them in a way that would make sense.  There is nothing that makes sense to me anymore. I want to write but all I can do is Stare at the wall.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

How did I get here ?



How did I get here ? That is the question I keep asking myself. How? I mean I understand what happened that day. I know that my husband was killed, that he's gone, that he's not coming home. But, somehow I just can't quite wrap my mind around it, I just can not completely comprehend it. 


I am still stuck in the fog. I'm trapped in the place between life and death, between the only life that I know and the new life that I fear...  A new life that I don't want, I did not choose and can not yet accept.


 It has been a little over two months since Elliott was killed. The days keep passing, with no regard for my pain. Doesn't the earth know that Elliott is not here anymore ? How can the world keep spinning ? With each new sunrise and sunset I feel like I simultaneously get unbearably farther yet a teeny tiny bit closer to him. I get farther from his earthly body but closer to his spirit. 


I have wanted to start this blog for the last two months now. I just could not muster up the energy to put it together. I'm not sure what I am supposed to be doing, but some how this seems right. I am here to remember, record, explore, vent and most of all CONNECT. I want to connect with other women who are walking the same path. Women who have been inducted into this club that no one would ever choose to join. I hope that through writing I can help myself and maybe somehow help someone else who may be feeling the same way. I want to be raw and candid about my journey as a young widow. I want to use this place to express my thoughts and feelings without fear of  judgement from those who may not understand. 


I give myself permission to be honest, to be how ever I need to be, say whatever I want to say, and write whatever I want to write about this messed up journey I call my life.