Never-ending

Every time I meet with my attorney about all of the business of death, I think it will be the last time. But it never is. It seems to continue on and on, paper after paper, signature after signature...mail some forms...wait a while...mail some forms...wait some more.

I find it strange to see on paper all the words referring to me:

"Sole survivor"

"Beneficiary"

"Executrix"

"Spouse of the deceased"

"Widow"

I just really don't want to be those things any more.

Tired from lack of sleep, feeling impatient about a number of things, angry at Rick for leaving me with the burdensome task of dealing with the mess he left behind, and frustrated with my disorganized attorney, I made a pit stop at my parents' house before going home to have a small cry.

It was the sort of cry I scheduled into my evening so I could have it over with and move on. It was the kind of cry that starts out as a reaction to one tiny little thing and becomes about everything.

Why couldn't Rick have had life insurance?
Why can't my attorney even get my address correct?
Will I ever be done with this paperwork?
What if someone is interested in buying my house and I don't want to leave yet?
But also...what if no one is ever interested?
Who will feed my cats while I'm away at Lindy's wedding in May since my parents are also away that weekend?
It's spring now and the slope in my backyard is too steep for me - who will mow my lawn?
When can I really relax and just enjoy feeling good?
Will I ever get the things I desperately want?
Why do I have to be the girl carrying the baggage of a husband who shot himself in the head when all I want to be is free?
And why do I have to cry alone without anyone to hold me?

And then, just like that, I end the cry. I remind myself of all the wonderful things in my life. I remind myself I will be okay. Patience, Arielle, patience. I remind myself the light is coming.

Thank You for the Wait

It's about that time of night when I settle into my thoughts and say thank you for all the things I'm grateful for today. There are a lot of them.

The lock screen on my phone is an image that says: Thank you, Universe, for all the good things in my life that I don't yet know about!!!

I like to see it a million times a day as a reminder.

For all the great things I have, feel, and know, I am thankful. For the rest yet to come, I will wait.

The Universe works at its own pace. And since my every day already holds great things, it's easy to believe that even better things are coming. As Tom Petty sings, "The waiting is the hardest part..." But I will always, always, always wait for the things that are worthwhile in this life.

Don't Rush Me

I am feeling my way through the dark. Don't rush me.

There are times when I may miss the mark.

Don't rush me.

I'm healing, but reeling is still a known feeling...

And my future right now is so stark.

Don't rush me.

I am trying to live in the now.

Don't rush me.

There are times when I just don't know how.

Don't rush me.

I'm fighting, but citing my grief in my writing

Is exactly what I must allow.

Don't rush me.

If I'm ready for something, you'll know.

Don't rush me.

If I want to be somewhere, I'll go.

Don't rush me.

I'm afraid, but I've prayed that my pain will soon fade

And one day it will truly be so.

Don't rush me.

Don't rush me, Arielle, don't rush me.

A poem I wrote tonight that's not what it first appears... It's a letter to myself...

Breaking the Cycle

I tried to break the cycle of bad Saturdays today by breaking my routine and doing something different. I woke up and my first thought was, "I don't have it in me to go visit Rick's mom today."

And I felt so bad.

So guilty.

Because I can't go see her tomorrow...and that means she won't get a visit this weekend. She has told me many times, "If you ever have something else to do, please do it." I still feel guilty.

Despite my guilt, I broke the cycle of visiting her today and I went for a run instead. After that, I got some coffee and went to my uncle's house in Mount Bethel for an 86th birthday party for my Grammy. I try to enjoy being with my family and relatives, but it's hard. My mind just always keeps thinking, "Where is Rick?" even though I know the answer.

I feel out of place.

I hate the feeling that everyone pities me. I hate the knowledge that when I leave, I have to go home alone.

I did not run any errands today - except to pick up cat litter at Target. I did not do any chores. I tried to break the cycle. But today is just as bad a Saturday as last weekend. I don't understand why I feel this way. I employ my resilience and line up things to do. I entice myself with things I enjoy and do them for myself, as a form of self care. And still... I end up pained and lonely.

I enjoyed the sun today at my uncle's pool. I enjoyed talking to people. But as soon as it's done, I feel like I'm punched in the stomach and need to curl up in a corner and sort it all out.

I can sit here and tell Rick about what's on my mind. No one is stopping me. No one can hear me. But he feels so far away.

It's like he's been on a long trip for the last 83 days. I honest-to-god want to scream, "Come back already!!!!" 2 months and 22 days. I'm losing my patience, but I am waiting for nothing. It is a horrible feeling.

I was just texting with my mom. "I don't want to be alone," I said. "I didn't sign up for this."

And I didn't. But so many people are dealt bad cards. So many people are hit with life circumstances that are less than fair. Tragic. Ruthless. I'm not special in that regard. So I just keep telling myself what I used to tell myself when I was working full time and simultaneously going to grad school and holding down an internship too: People have done this before me, therefore I can do it too.