Days that are “More”.

There are days that are “more” than other days. They aren’t worse, or better. They are just MORE.

It’s hard to describe many of the feelings, or emotions that I feel with on a daily basis.

Today, I sat down, and I FINALLY cleaned out these two boxes that have been sitting next to my desk, since I moved into this apartment. I have, honestly, avoided it, because I figured it was just full of bull-shit bills, and crap I wanted to avoid, or maybe stuff I have already taken care of.

It was all a bunch of crap I had already taken care of.

And two sets of handcuffs.

Two of Mitch’s old Driver’s Licenses.

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I sat on the floor of my bedroom, because the boxes were there. And I laughed so hard that I started to cry. I laughed, because I had JUST finished reading my “on this day” on facebook, and Mitch had posted a link, trying to coax me into anal sex, 2 years ago.

Then, right after I read that, an old friend shared one of MY status updates from 7 years ago, where Mitch and I bantered back and forth about how badly he wanted me.

After reading those, I was a little broken, again. (regularly occurring theme in a widow’s life.)

So, to occupy my mind, I sit down to clean out those boxes.

Mitch was there. I am sure he was there, and he was laughing at me. At me? Maybe with me? Most likely, though, he was laughing at me.

It’s THESE things that make days like today, MORE. I feel so much, yet I never let it control me. Today, was so much more, than an average “I miss Mitch” day.

Today, I ugly-snot-cried, in the shower, for a good 20 minutes, before putting on my make-up and doing my hair.

And, I looked GOOD today. No puffy or tired eyes, like I normally have when I cry.

MORE.

I was able to hear my Aunt tell me about the dream she was able to have about Mitch.

Before I decided to have a party for Mitch’s birthday, she dreamed that I threw a party to celebrate Mitch’s day. She dreamed that he walked into the party, and had no idea he had died. She got to talk with him, during the party.

I am so happy that she got to dream of him. I am also a bit jealous, because I still haven’t had more than the 2 dreams of him. I don’t try to dream of him, because I know it’s futile.

I can dream about things I want to dream about, sure, but having a REAL dream of Mitch, has to come naturally. It’s not something that can be forced.

Sometimes, I wonder if my mind blocks it. I have had 2 dreams, in which I feel as though I have RIPPED myself out of the dreams. I ended the dreams, before they were supposed to end. I clawed myself from dreamland to being awake. I use these words “ripped” and “clawed” because I feel like that is what best describes how it felt. Traumatic.

It’s so hard to describe these types of things, and not sound like a loon. But, describe, I will try!

I am so thankful to have family, and friends, who are open,and talk to me. I never want Mitch to become a subject that anyone feels too afraid to bring up, or talk about. If you want to talk about Mitch, and tell me how much you miss him, please, DO IT! I know we all miss him, and my guess is that not a soul misses him more than Megan and myself, but, this is NOT  competition to be won or lost. We ALL have lost, here. We have ALL lost Mitch. I would NEVER try to “one-up” anyone about it. Ever.

In the beginning, maybe. I wasn’t thinking about anyone other than Megan and myself. I felt horrible when it all came flooding me. Because, I didn’t think about my brother, being the first person Mitch talked to every morning, to the last person he spoke to, before bed. They were so close. I didn’t think about that, in the beginning, but now, I do.

I think about how his baby sisters and brothers could ALWAYS call him, and he would talk to them about ANYTHING. Zaida would call any and every time she had any kind of issue she didn’t know how to handle.  Katy knew she always had Mitch in her corner, always, no matter what! Michael and Mitchell had gotten much much closer over that last few years. Heather, oh man. Heather. Heather was Mitch’s personality twin, on all levels. I always joked that “If I were a lesbian, I’d try to turn her!” haha! To be completely honest, I am not sure how often Summer and Mitch talked, or how often John John and Mitch talked. I know Jack and Mitch didn’t get to hang out, or talk much, because of the huge age gap. But, I know Mitch loved every single one of his siblings, and would have done anything for any one of them.

He was NEVER good at making the first phone call. Not in all of the years I knew him. I gave him MY phone number, and I was the one who called him, first. I’m not even sure how I got his phone number, either.

I know he loved Brady, like he was his real brother. Hell, I am pretty sure, if Mitch ever left me, he would have moved in with Brady, and Brady would have LET HIM! ha!  He was so glad that they were able to be close. He loved Nate, too. Nate always impressed him, with his speed, and drive to get stuff done, when he “jumped” for fedex drivers.

Can I just say, I am sorry, family, for not thinking of YOUR loss, right away. I’m not sure it would be different if it were to all happen again. I am not sure my brain would be able to process in a way that allowed me to think like that, that soon. But, if I COULD change it, I would. Know that I do think of each and every one of you, on a daily basis.

I also want to tell everyone, again, that as our hearts heal, there will always be scars. Let’s make the scars beautiful. Let’s make them gold, like the Japanese fix old pottery, that crack or chip. Use gold to mend the broken pieces back together. It will never be normal, again, but it CAN still be BEAUTIFUL!

If you are curious what I mean, check out this post, that a friend shared with me, in the very beginning. It talks about how

 

“That Night, January 24th, 2017, We Held Hands Through the Entire Movie.”

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.

I can’t.

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.

 

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