Sometimes

...I just need a good cry.

I remember as kids we used to talk about how "good actresses" can cry on command. It is interesting to not be acting but to know exactly what I need when I need a good cry--that I can pretty much cry on demand now. Today it was Christmas music, a particular Christmas song that makes me think of Adam. It is as if he is singing the song to me each time I hear it. And I cry.

It is cold today. I always forget just how cold things get here. It is bizarre and I forget every year. I relate it to childbirth in the way I forget just how cold it feels. At 46 degrees, I have my fireplace on tonight. I decided the fire sounded better than running a hot bath. What is really amusing is that in two months, 46 will feel like 85 and I will break out my flipflops if we have such a warm day. Like my life, the temperature outside is all about perspective--it is all relative.

I miss him so much. I find myself saying "I miss you" more and more each day. I find I miss the silly things he used to do--his twitches or oddities that I forget about, until one of the boys does something similar and then it hits me like a ton of bricks and I remember. I miss his cracking ankle, the way he scratched his head, shook his leg, bit his tongue when he was nervous, snored, stretched, the way he would squint his eyes to get his long blonde eyelashes out of his eyes. I miss his smell. His hands. His arms, his scratchy-faced kisses he'd give me after work...or when he'd shave in the evening just for me so his scratchy face wouldn't hurt me--when he wanted "good kisses." Ugh. I miss his physical presence in my life, his counsel, his companionship. People that claim they like being single I think either don't have a clue what a relationship like this feels like, or they are simply lying to themselves and others. It is not good to be alone. Period. Yep, that's my opinion and I'm sticking to it.

Some days make sense. And some totally don't. I think I find that when I'm having a "denial" day that the rebound of realization makes things more difficult than a now "normal" day. I was driving along today and then everything sort of hit. It is easy to pretend that life is good, that money and kids schedules, and my life is dandy--until I let my mind wander and the weight of widowhood is upon me. It becomes an unbearable burden pretty quick. Sometimes I quickly think of the millions of blessings I have so that I can put those thoughts aside, but other times I realize that method often feeds denial and pushes back my progress. Everything in my life is a very careful balance. My sanity hangs in the balance.

But I'm learning what I can and can't handle. I'm learning that certain conversations aren't ok for me to have with people and I either redirect conversation or simply remove myself.

I will never "get over" Adam's death. I will simply learn different coping mechanisms for survival. And the interesting thing about coping is that something that helps me cope today may not help me cope tomorrow. Each day brings different challenges.

I'm going to curl up by the fire and watch one of my favorite movies, "Sabrina." Take me away, Harrison Ford. Far far away.