An interruption

of my thank you notes tonight, which maybe I shouldn't do....After a few days' hiatus, I started a bunch again tonight.  I'll never catch up it seems.  Ahh.  Hopefully people just "know" that I love their generosity and kindness anyway.

But I've been thinking on my Sunday--as in yesterday.  Church was REALLY hard.  REALLY.  I wish I'd had a bit of a heads up on the topic I suppose.  The topic was patience.  And I really didn't want to hear any of it.  Any.  Because I'm not 85 years old and only waiting "patiently" to die and be with my husband again in another couple years.  I could probably go off for days on how untherapeutic it was for me, but it's an interesting topic, patience is.  Patience applies to all people in all different situations, it's a good virtue, an important quality.  Yet I didn't want to hear about it then, and I don't want to hear about it today.  I waited very faithfully and patiently for a lot of things in my life--A LOT.  I should underline that about twelve times.  I KNOW patience, even if I'm not a very patient person.  But it's a bit different to well, contemplate what patience now means to me.  So I couldn't handle it yesterday.  The people in the hall may've heard my utterance of the word "crap" in the hallway, sorry.  And I'm entitled to what I think, thankfully.  My friends who spoke on Sunday did a nice job.  But I just couldn't listen, I couldn't bear it.  I won't be ready for a lengthy discussion on patience for at least a year.  Or more. Or many more.  Really.

But onto the "nice" things for that day--which thankfully I've been able to dwell on.  After my earlier utterance and while I was in the hall tending to a loud 3 year old and a grumpy baby that gets mad when I put him down or pass him off to someone else (I've created a monster in terms that I've held him nonstop for the past two months...so there will be trauma to endure now for those helping me with him over time.  Not good.  I feel guilty.), I saw Lucia.  She is the wife of our former mission president, they lived here for 3 years and during that time, Adam taught 3 of their 6 kids in his teenage Sunday School class.  They are an amazing family, I've learned a lot from them through the time they spent here.  Anyway, I saw Lucia and I broke down.  I miss her.  I was her visiting teacher for a time.  I got to have a good ugly cry on her shoulder which felt good.  Not as good as it would've felt if the onlookers in the foyer would've been elsewhere, but good nonetheless.  I was glad she was visiting.

After talking to her husband after sacrament meeting, I went to leave and President and Sister Oaks caught me and wanted to talk with me.  I've not known them personally in the time here as our temple president (this is their last week here) and matron, but my little boys got to shake President Oaks' brother's hand (Elder Dallin Oaks is his brother) when Elder Oaks was out here visiting them, and spoke at our stake conference.  A special experience (I was bummed, still am, that Adam had to work that weekend.  It was really neat for Spencer and Justin, with me at their side).  So I sat down with President and Sister Oaks.  I won't share all of what they said here, but President Oaks (who is strangely enough, also a physician) reminded me that his mom was widowed young--that she raised 3 kids, ages (about) 8,4, and 1 all by herself.  He told me of her strength, her courage, and his admiration for her.  I'm grateful that they caught me (thanks to Chris Fillmore for holding me up talking or I would've escaped to leave without talking with them...funny how things work out sometimes!).  Their thoughts gave me courage.  Which I need right now.  I think it was easier to be strong in the beginning.  When there is SO MUCH to do, paperwork and logistics to take care of, it's easy to just get wrapped up in all the busy work.  But now I get to sort of get to "life" and just ordinary stuff.  I know that's going to be the hardest part of going through the grieving process because my mind won't be as busy as it has.

I miss Adam.  I miss him changing diapers in the evening to give me a break.  I miss him wrestling with the boys.  I miss OUR time.  I miss the nasty smell of parmesan cheese popcorn from him making popcorn with our air popper.  I wish he were here to do SO MUCH.  For family night, I just told the kids stories of their daddy.

Nights really are the worst.  I was given that heads up in advance from other widows/widowers.  I think it's hard because nights are hard for most moms and dads--kids are squirrely, it seems that boys are a bit more naughty at night, Spencer has had enough of being disciplined by evening.  I'm trying to come up with strategies of making things easier in the evening, but I have a feeling it's like anything else in life--there's no easy answer, there's no easy button (where is the Staples commercial guy when I need him, can't he transform my house with an easy button?), and every day is different.

I broke down into an ugly cry today taking my van into Honda.  I attempted to do this when my dad was in town but that was impossible because I needed a loaner car (no dropping off/picking up of a spouse with car fix-its now) and today was the earliest day they could get me one.  And they were actually GREAT, I highly recommend this Honda dealership (Superior Honda)--the way they dealt with Adam and I from the start was great, and today was too.  It was just hard, the guy asked me which oil change option I wanted (yes there IS a reason I took our leased car to them instead of Jiffy Lube or some such place) because I was taking the car in for a recall with my transmission.  I figured get all the car torture done in one fell swoop so I don't have to go back for 6 months.  Anyway, when he was asking if I wanted to spend an extra 10 bucks for "synthetic blend oil" I just broke down saying something like "I shouldn't have to be doing this, my husband should.  This is HIS job."  Because it IS.  I don't care how sexist it sounds, I have a certain feeling about certain household jobs, maybe because I liked the system we had going--the car maintenance garbage is for the guy of the house.  Period.  Anyway, the sweet little guy didn't ask me a bunch of questions and he let me blubber.  When I told him that the paperwork was wrong (it had Adam's name and his cell number in the computer) he didn't bat an eye and just fixed it.  I didn't have to go into the whole story.  All I said, while holding a baby in his baby carseat, Spencer's hand, a diaper bag, and Spencer's carseat, was that my husband had died.  It was oddly nice that he didn't give me the pity head tilt, didn't want to know what happened, just said "I'm sorry" and that was it.  IT.  That was the best.  So I guess my rant still holds true--saying nothing at all is the most helpful thing for me.  It's weird and uncomfortable for the others talking to me I imagine, but it was good for me.  I'll write if I change my mind on that, but for now it's good.

And I got three nice phone calls today/tonight.  And my sweet attorney helped me wade through more stuff.  SO SO grateful for him.  Ahh.  Wow, that was quite a day.

If I can just find some Halloween costumes now.  That's next on tomorrow's agenda.  I wish my kids liked the other ones I have here at home, they're so cute.  But it's funny how kids always have in their minds what they want to be.  So since they have no other control in their lives right now, I guess I'll let them pick things out and not force Spencer to be the cute koala bear that I have for a costume.  Even if it means making a trip to the busiest-store-on-the-planet.  Nope, I'm not talking about Walmart, but another store....Nobbies.   Oriental Trading Company in an actual store.  Fun place.  Not so fun on the days before Halloween.  How are we REALLY in October (almost November) anyway....it's still August!!!

Whew.  That was longer than I intended.  But my head feels better now.