July 25th was the last normal day of my life. We had the day off work and spent it getting to know the new puppy we got the day before. It was a good day. Shortly before midnight, everything changed to a horrible nightmare when he had a seizure. Shortly after midnight, it was over. Everything. Our future, our plans, our shared loved, his life. It is still so soon and so tough to even talk about. Most of the time it is too tough to even think about, so my mind hides that night away. My mind also is hiding away him, I wish it wouldn’t but it probably knows better than me.
I didn’t sleep for the first few days. My home, our private sanctuary from the outside world, became full of people. I never thought I’d want so many people around, but I did. I was grateful for the noise, the tears, the laughter, the hugs, the support, and the love. There was much to get done for the service and there was a whirlwind of people doing anything they could do to help. I really hate asking for help. I have always been the one that wants to help others so the role of being in need was unfamiliar and unwanted. Now that the service is over, things are quiet. People still check on me but not with the urgency. It’s fine.
I’ve settled into a temporary uneasy routine. I start my day taking care of the dogs, I then look at the long list of companies that I need to call and choose a couple. I traumatize some call center representatives as I let them know my husband is gone, and I, his 35 year old widow, need to take over the account. They always sound so happy or even bored until I say why I am calling. After that, I get tired and try to sleep more. Then something will make me laugh, and I cry because I’m laughing, then I get tired and stare, and go back to sleep. In between that, I try to make myself eat. It will probably be good for me to get back to work.
I decided to write this blog for a couple reasons. The first is that my husband used to always push me to write. I would always say I have nothing to write about. I actually signed up for this blog a couple years ago when I full intended to begin writing about destroying my writer’s block. It sat unused until now. The second reason is that I know that sadly this is not a unique situation to me. There are other women my age trying to find someone that knows what this horribleness is like. I am going to make an effort to tell my story as it unfolds and maybe someone else will be able to take solace in the fact she is not alone.
Finding the pieces 