It Gets Harder?

Well before getting into the nitty gritty of the post, I will first apologize for my serious MIA status. I've been doing a little bit of vacationing and thoroughly enjoying it. Went on a cruise with mom, dad, and A and then came home for a few weeks before heading to Florida with A to see Jonny's side of the family. In between all that I'm still working on getting my home set up, and I'm pretty sure I'll be in "moving-in" status for the rest of my life, or at least five years. Yikes! Our travels were good, the cruise was a lot of fun and A loved seeing the water every where. Our trip to Florida was outstanding, and I think it was also much needed. It was great to be with his family which is also my family, reminisce, hang out, and really just keep getting to know each other. We had a blast and I am looking forward to our next trip there.

I say it was a needed trip because I just needed some more of him and his family is as him as it gets (thank God I have a little piece of him hanging out with me everyday). I haven't been doing well. Grief isn't just a nice and neat little agenda you can follow. The pathway of grief or whatever it's called? Yea, complete bullshit. It just doesn't work that way. The stages, sure they may be there. The anger, the depression, the bargaining, all of that. Yup, it's there. But it doesn't come as it's "expected" one neatly following the other and never returning when it's done. Each little "stage" springs up when it feels like and you have to deal with it when it presents itself, even if you've dealt with it before. And oftentimes, it's not alone, in fact 9 out of 10 times it's accompanying another little stage of grief, tag teaming on the ass kicking. Grief is just not fun. I'm saying grief a lot, because it finally actually feels like grieving.

For the last two years, well, let's face it. I've been running. Maybe if I ran fast enough, I occupied myself enough, I hid, well maybe then there would be no grief. If I moved fast enough, got away from it, maybe just maybe I would wake up from it. The problem is, however, there's nothing to wake up from. This is real life and well, frankly, it sucks. No life doesn't suck, just the circumstances, the grief. That sucks.  A lot.

This March, April, and May have just been wooping me. I just want him here. I don't want to be a widow anymore. I just want to be a regular wife, with my husband who I love, having regular married people dilemmas. I called my mom a few weeks ago after I'd walked through my office where Jonny's urn (the box) is proudly displayed. I had stopped and stared at that urn and was like "What is that?" in my head... "what is it doing here" I called my mom and said that I am ready to wake up from the nightmare now. But like I said, and she said, it's the crappy reality.

I know, I'm rambling. It's been a while, alright? I guess where I'm going is I didn't expect it to get harder. I didn't expect it to get easier, either, I just figured it would... I don't know... I didn't know what to expect. I miss him more than ever. It's been too long. I want to feel his warmth around me, talk to him, just have him here. I'm sad, I'm angry, and I'm not feeling like accepting it.

I know, you've all read this before. I'm certainly not looking for pity, it's just so good to get it out. The written words seem to help me make sense of it all. I've just been in so much pain. I'm not numb and I'm not running and I'm just here and hurting.

But. I will survive. I always do.
Pump up the Gloria Gaynor for a little motivation.