Time To Give Credit Where Its Due

I was pondering this morning, and realized I havent done a thank you post since Thanksgiving I think. A LOT has changed in our lives since then, and I just feel that maybe its time for me to say thank you again to all the important friends I have in my life.

I wanted to do individual thank yous to everyone, and even wrote out paragraphs to everyone, but I found it was just too much to write, and too emotional to do so. So I will make a list, and hopefully theyre all reading this...and if not, they know how I feel. A thousand hugs and thank yous could not express my happiness at having you all in my life. I love all of you!!

*Jason and Lindsay

*Sara

*Rebecca

*Christy

*Johanna

*Mimi, Monica, Connie and all the other ladies from Mops that came and helped me clean and unpack

*All of my awesome twitter friends, especially Rachel who ran the London Marathon, and ran a mile in Barrys memory. That made me cry. And Ian too, who is a fellow widowed single parent, and knows what its like.

In other news, yesterday I took the spawn to a summer camp orientation/interview. Its through the Jamie Moyer foundation, and is called Camp Erin. Its geared specifically towards children that have, or are, experienced a significant loss in their life like that of a parent or sibling. Its a bit of a lengthy application process, and we wont find out for a good month, but I am pretty confident that the three olders will get in. It is just for a weekend in June, two nights only, but they will have so much fun.

Yesterday as I was driving them there, I got a little teary eyed. Thinking to myself, why do I have to do this? Bring my kids to a summer camp for Grieving Kids? WTF? how is that even fair to us? It isnt FAIR. Not one bit. I dont see why my kids have to grow up without their daddy, why they have to go to a summer camp because their daddy is dead.

And then I got a little angry at Barry. Because if he hadnt died, I wouldnt be in this situation. I wouldnt have had to take the kids out of school early to drive 45 minutes to Tacoma so they could have this opportunity. Its all his fault. I know he tried his damnedest to stay a live, I know that b/c I saw the look in his eyes, but he STILL DIED! He LEFT us. He put us in this situation, and I am so mad about it. I cant do anything about my life because he died, and no matter how much I want to go back and change what happened, I cant. Its infuriating, heart breaking, maddening. I hate this. And for the rest of our lives, we are going to have to deal with this heartbreak. Sometimes I just want to yell and scream at him for leaving us, and I have done that already. Maybe I need to do it again. Or get some aggression out again, something like that.

Barry knows Im angry, and I think hes OK with that. I know he didnt want to leave us, and if he were in my situation, Id expect him to be angry too. Anger is a perfectly normal part of grief, and I need people to know that sometimes Im going to fucking hate Barrys guts because of what he did to us. Right now Im angry and sad because I dont want us to be in this situation.

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Life Got Away From Me Again

I remember when the grief was still so raw, so fresh, that I was blogging practically every day for the first couple months. And gradually it has become more and more sporadic, especially at times like this when we are settling into our new house and trying to find ourselves here.

Instead of sitting inside at my computer, I find myself outside talking to my neighbors. Or unpacking a box. Or doing my nails, which I have started enjoying again. Or cleaning my kitchen. Or doing a huge shopping trip at Ikea, which I did today and got everything I needed, except for the two bar stools which I forgot, and a lamp.

I just havent made the time for blogging lately. Id say sorry, but you know what, Im not really. Sometimes I just dont want to write, and I just want to live, and be happy and do normal things and not have to grieve all the time.

Speaking of grieving and being happy, the word is spreading like wildfire throughout the neighborhood that I am a widow. Thats ok, because I started it. I didnt want people to think I was this divorced mom of four. So Ive told whomever Ive met so far.

Yesterday evening before grief support, I was over at Brendas getting our home owners association paperwork, and we got to talking about Barry a bit. She started laughing really awkwardly and asked me why I was so happy. WHAT?!?!?!? Yes, she asked me why I seemed so happy, and THEN proceeded to ask me if he was abusive because I seemed so happy he was gone. What the fuck!

Obviously people dont know what to say when they feel awkward about something, because not that long ago, someone else asked me how my husband was killed? Again, WHAT THE FUCK? He wasnt killed, he DIED IN MY ARMS IN THE HOSPITAL. He died, he wasnt killed. Its called a THESAURUS people, learn how to use one.

Anyway, back to Brenda. I was a bit put off, obviously, as anyone would be, but I swallowed my irritability, and explained to her why I am the way I am. Because I have no choice. Really, I am what other people would deem "happy" because I have four children that need me and rely on me. I explained to her that I grieve every single day, but my time comes in the evening after the kids go to bed, thats when I cry most of the time. I explained that he was the best, most wonderful husband I ever could have asked for, that he provided well, that he was the best daddy every, and that we loved him and missed him so much. And then I also explained that when he was alive, he was a truck driver, which is why I know how to go about day to day life without him. Because really, this is all we have known for 8 years. Yep, he started trucking in April 2002, when I was just a few months pregnant with our now 7.5 year old.

After hearing my explanation, I think she understood a bit better, but Im sure its still hard for the majority of people to grasp how I am able to keep a smile on my face. Barry would tell me "Buck up Joanna, stop whining and get on with your life and take care of the kids!", and thats just what I have done. Only a few choice people really see the real Joanna, the one who is grieving every single day, and those are a few of my close friends and my immediate family. Only they have seen me break down, and throw temper tantrums and cry and scream and sit in the cold in my van by myself on Christmas day night. Perhaps Barrys job was a blessing in disguise, because it prepared me for this.

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