Saturday morning, Megan woke up to me crying. How do I know this? She told me. I was sitting at my desk, in my bedroom, typing up my last blog post. All of the details of the dream I had washed over me, and made me nearly hysterical.
Sunday was okay. (as okay as I guess it can get, right?)
Today, I woke up with what felt like the equivalent to a void in my chest. Like something is missing. I know everyone says “I lost a little piece of myself, when I lost him.” But really, that empty feeling that I have had all day, is terrible. My mind, racing over different things I can do to make it feel full, again.
Not right now.
There’s nothing I can buy, nothing I can do, no one I can turn to, who can fill that void. I have many people I can talk to, and many things to do, and I don’t need to buy anything else. I try to devote myself to Megan, but, she’s your typical pre-teen. It’s touch and go, with that one. 😉
So, today. Today, this overwhelming, emptiness washed over me, at the sight of an old picture that Mitch shared on facebook, a few years ago. It had nothing to do with me, outside of Megan being my kid, and Mitch being my husband. It was a picture of Megan’s little hands, holding a plate of food, in the shape of a smiley face, and it was posted, and tagged to my wall, and said, “Megan made me a snack!”
Simple, everyday things, that will no longer be here.
That’s just the cusp of my mind today. Most of the time, when I think about Mitch, I am thinking about how fun he was, and how happy he was, all of the time! He was proud. He was proud of me. He was proud of Megan. And most of all, he was proud of himself, for being at a point in his life, where he could have things, and pay for things for Megan. He always wanted Megan to have everything he couldn’t have. It was important to him, and also to myself.
But, today. My thoughts were shifted to his behaviors during his last few weeks. For his last month, really. It’s heartbreaking. I am going to share with you, the memories that I have of him, from Christmas Morning, through That Tuesday night, his last night in our bed.
I remember on Christmas, I was so excited, because I bought him an Xbox One. He had been talking about how bad he wanted one, and I GOT IT! I was so excited. When he opened it, he was just kind-of “whoa.” I have it recorded. Maybe what I saw in his “lack of excitement” was because of my over excitement. Who knows?
But, what if he was already not feeling well?
What if everything had started around then?
He was up and down, for a couple of weeks. He was very tired, all of the time. He would fall asleep on the couch, and just lay there, all day. He would get up to go to the restroom, and eat, and then he would lay back down on the couch.
This was normal behavior, for when he had his pseudo-gout flare-ups. He had one. I didn’t think twice.
About a week before he passed away, I had a break-down. I came home from work, and our house was a disaster. There was trash all over the living room floor, right by the couch where he had been camped at for a couple of weeks.
I started crying. I sat down, in the living room, and bawled my eyes out, because I was so stressed out, and felt like I couldn’t get the house together. Our kitchen sink was not usable (bad pipes that the landlord never had fixed), and our dishwasher couldn’t be used (because of bad pipes), and our bathroom sink didn’t drain fast enough to even wash one dish. So, I had to sit on the bathroom floor, and wash the dishes in the bath tub. I was exhausted. I. Me. My.
I had no idea what Mitch was really going though. I knew his gout was bad. I knew it hurt so very bad, and I had so much sympathy for him, for that.
I still got mad at him, for getting up and going into the kitchen for food or drinks, and not taking his dirty dishes or his empty bottles back to the kitchen. I “nagged” him about it. I CRIED because of it! I had NO IDEA! NONE!
He was so mopey. I wasn’t used to seeing him mopey. I was worried that he was getting depressed, because it seemed like his joy, or his happiness was just gone. Like his light had been dimmed. My heart was breaking FOR him. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted him to be healthy. I HATED when he didn’t feel well, and I ESPECIALLY hated when he had the stupid gout flare-ups.
He knew I loved him, so much. I know he loved me, too. Even though I complained about him making a mess, I still cleaned it up, and then gave him 2 bags. One for water bottles, and one for trash. I made him snack boxes. I made him dinner. I made sure he had lunches that were easy and healthy. He probably hated that I was in charge of the food stuff, because I got rid of all the nasty, unhealthy stuff.
He got up, that weekend, and tried to clean the house. He was wiping this, and putting this away, and doing that. Laundry, grocery shopping, and sweeping. He was trying so hard to make MY LIFE easier, and he was dying. He didn’t know it. I didn’t know it. No one knew.
And, I was being a bitch about a messy house.
Monday night, he told me that his chest hurt, but said he believed it was the outside muscles, from coughing so much. I asked if he was sure, and he confirmed. He didn’t mention it again.
Tuesday night, he asked us to go watch a movie with him. He picked it out. Beautiful, with Minnie Driver. Mitch always made fun of me, when I watched that movie, because I cry EVERY SINGLE TIME. That night, he didn’t make fun of me. Megan started to laugh and say “Mommy’s crying!” And Mitch said, “An article was released this week that said the people who cry during movies and shows are the most compassionate people you will ever meet.” (the article actually said empathetic, but, that’s not the point.) He said he loved that about me, even though he made fun of me for it, because what kind of husband would he be, if he didn’t give me shit?
That night, January 24th, 2017, we held hands, through the entire movie.