Spiders and Smoke Detectors

Well, I'm officially that woman who cries in restaurants full of people.

And you thought blogging nightly about widowhood was a lesson in vulnerability...

I have a special knack for making it through a whole workday without tears only to come home and cry like there's no tomorrow. I just want Rick.

Last night, while I was on the phone with my mom, I heard a noise upstairs. I made her stay on the phone with me until I was sure the house was fine. Then I saw a (big) spider in the stairway. And just like that, I was sad, mad, upset, and overwhelmed. Who is going to take care of spiders for me? Why do I have to take care of this spider? What about all the other spiders? What if it's too high for me to reach?

Then that one WAS too high for me to reach. I had get a stool and a shoe and while I was still on the phone with my mom, I had to take care of that spider myself. With attitude and sarcasm, I said, "Thanks, Rick."

Fast forward 6 hours later and one of my smoke detectors started its high-pitched chirping quite late at night. 1) It startled me as I sat alone in my dark house. 2) I thought it was the smoke detector in the basement and I was afraid to go in the basement alone. 3) I didn't want to get up to go through the whole house to find out which detector it was only to have to climb back up on a stool again.

But I did. Climb back up on a stool again, that is. This time I only texted my mother instead of staying on the phone with her while I engaged in the stool climbing. And again... "Thanks, Rick."

Spiders and smoke detectors seem like nothing compared to tonight. After I got home from work, while sifting through Rick's medical bills and car paperwork, on the phone with the mortgage company to attempt to remove him from the bills, I had a meltdown. How many times in one week do I have to say the words, "I'm calling because my husband died" ??? It shouldn't be this many.

I called my dad to ask a question about the paperwork. More tears ensued. He said he was coming to pick me up to take me out to dinner with my mom and their friends. I didn't want to be around people, but he came for me since I was such a mess. I did eat, but I sat there stonily, very unsociable, trying hard not to cry. I did a damn good job too...until I didn't.

A tear fell at the table, so I went to the bathroom at the restaurant. Choked on sobs and tears. Got louder in that ugly-crying kind of way. Whispered my new catchphrase, "Why, Rick, why?" to myself as I cried. When customers started needing the bathroom, I left it and with tears on my red face, hastily told my mom I was going outside. I sat outside hugging myself, missing Rick so badly my heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant fist. Crying.

Everyone around me seems happy, and I'm sad. I want to be happy too. I miss happy. I miss my Rick.

My parents came out to me. My mom said she'd take me home. My dad hugged me tightly and talked to me for a little while. Then he left with his friends and my mom drove me back to my house. She waited while I took a shower, because I wasn't even sure I could take a shower alone.

And here I am, raw-faced and drained of almost all life, blogging. But I did manage to incorporate the first bit of color into my outfit today.

It's all I could muster for now, but I have high hopes for tomorrow. Unless of course another smoke detector goes off tonight.