6 months and waiting

                                                             

As I sit here tonight on the six month anniversary of Elliott’s death I wonder once again 

“how the hell did I get here?"

I have reached a milestone that only lives in a wife's worst nightmare, a day I have been dreading— 6 months of walking this earth without the man who made my world spin, my life worth living, my heart full of unconditional love, and my soul full of light. 

I never would have thought six months ago that I could even breath one minute without Elliott in my life. Although I’m here and I ‘m doing it, I’m “surviving” this, I don’t feel like giving myself any kudos or pats on the back. Iv’e made it six months, can I make it six more, another year, 10 years, 20 years? Sure, but do I want to make it one more day without El in my life? NO not really. 

I don’t really know what my life is without him. It sure as hell doesn’t feel like a life any more. It feels more like waiting than living. I continually have the sense that I’m just waiting, waiting, waiting, as if I’m in this holding pattern, on pause ... For what? I’m not really sure. I know Elliott is not coming home, there will be no joyous reunion—no unexplainable miracle for me. Maybe I’m just waiting to talk to him, to communicate with him, feel his presence in a way that is undeniable— to find my way to him. Or maybe I’m just waiting for the end, for my time to go home. Nevertheless I’m waiting, waiting to catch my breath, waiting to process, waiting to reach the darkest depths of my grief.

I’m in a weird time warp where it feels as though It’s been an eternity since I kissed Elliott’s lips and heard him whisper “I love you.” Yet simultaneously six months feels like it has only been six days. I literally feel like everything just happened days ago, it is incomprehensible to me that I am now on the back side of approaching the year mark. I remember in the first few weeks and months hearing about widows and widowers at this point and thinking “ wow, that’s so long, I don’t want to get there.” I really hoped that I would follow close behind El and get in some freak accident or die of a broken heart. I read an article about “The Widow Effect” when a spouse dies and the surviving spouse falls ill and dies shortly after due to stress, a rare complication, or heart issues, and I so badly wished to be a part of that statistic. But, unfortunately it effects older widows and widowers more profoundly. I actually just heard of my mom’s friends nephew who lost his wife three months ago and just died of a heart attack leaving three young boys behind. It breaks my heart for those babies, I don’t have any children, why not me? I don’t necessarily want to die,I’m not suicidal ( of course I’ve thought of it, most widows would at least toy with the notion) I just want to be where Elliott is. I don’t want to make anything out of the cards I’ve been dealt. I want to fold. I’m sick of the widow game. I’m ready for my husband to come home. I’m ready for the joke to be up— for the nightmare to end.

I know better though, I still have a lot of life ahead of me. I feel so unbearably young, at the same time though, I feel like a broken old woman. I’ve had far too much life experience for my twenty-seven years. Despite that, I know I’m going to gain a lot more. Whether I like it or not I still have more to do in this world, I still have more to experience and to learn. I just wish I could figure out what those things are. I’m still just spinning in circles, trapped in a vortex. I don’t know which way or direction to just step off and walk in.

Dear El,

I love you more than anything. I’m trying really really hard to be a living example of your love. I trying to walk this treacherous path but, I still need you mor than ever babe. Please be with me. I love you.

Love Always,

Your Wife Lacey ♥

time marches on

Time marches on... and it feels like I’m getting trampled under it’s boots. 

So 2010 is coming to and end and I really have mixed emotions about it. In many ways I still yearn for time to stand still and give me a moment (a lot of moments) to catch up, yet it keeps marching forward relentlessly.

Iv’e lived seconds that Elliott did not— those seconds turned into minutes, hours, days, and months I experienced on earth without him. Now It’s here, it’s happening I’m entering a new year that El will have never lived in. Every day I get farther from his touch and earthly presence, and there is nothing I can do about it. You can’t fight time.

2010 began beautiful and ended tragic. In the beginning of the year we were finally getting all settled into our home, visiting with family and friends and just enjoying the road we were on. I celebrated the new year at our home with my mom and dad. We watched fireworks light up the sky from my back deck in the freezing cold. El wasn’t far he was at the fire-station waiting just in case those fireworks lit up someones house or a drunk driver plowed through a red light and someone was injured. The year was full of potential and we were happy truly happy. We started the exciting process of updating our home, upgrading the bathrooms, installing new flooring, and  picking out new furniture. I was busy with school, and El loved being a firefighter. In May we flew down to California and Drove my dads motorhome back up to Alaska. We spent an amazing month on the road. If only I knew it would be our last trip and some of our last memories (sigh, tears welling up in my eyes).

July brought upon the worst time in my life. El was so violently ripped from me, from this world. Now I’m struggling with time. Do I want to leave the year that Elliott was killed behind and move forward ? Or do I want to stay there because it was the last year I would ever see his face, kiss his lips, hear his voice, feel his touch ... ? I wish I was at the point where I really wanted to move forward, but I’m not. I’m holding on tight to what I know, what I know lives in 2010 and before...  The future holds only the unknown, there will be no comforts of my life as I once knew it. 

On the other hand 2010 brought so much pain in my life and the lives of my family, that maybe just maybe there will at least be some relief from the continuous tragedy. After loosing Elliott there will never be anything that will equal the intensity of the pain—everything just becomes salt in the wound, but salt in the wound hurts too. After Elliott was killed 3 more people I knew died also... including my older sister Sheri. My uncle suffered sever brain trauma, and my father is still in the process of loosing the business he gave his blood, sweat, and tears to (literally) for he last 30 years.

Even though It hurts to be moving into a year that Elliott never lived in, time is not going to wait for me. Though I’m not ready and I’m dragging my heels and Kicking my feet into 2011, I secretly hope ( HOPE is a word I struggle with) that this year brings me to a better place than where 2010 left me. I hope that with each day I can focus on and feel Elliott’s love shining down on me.