21 months and 5 years

Last Thursday I was skimming a post on the widow/er board and in the post it said something about it being the 6th. My heart skipped a beat-had I actually gone through my first 6th of the month without realizing it? No, I had not. It was the 5th and as I was only skimming, I wasn't absorbing the details of the post correctly. And then I had a moment of panic when I couldn't remember how many months it has been. I thought it was 22 but that didn't seem right so I calculated it and realized it was only 21. As it had been getting closer, I had already been using 21 months, hence my confusion. It snuck up on me though. I wished my cousin a happy birthday on the 3rd and then just lost track of time.

I woke up at 4:32 on Friday. More accurately, I was rudely awaken by Charlie at 4:32 on Friday morning. I shouldn't get angry-at least he gets me up now instead of just going and standing quietly by the door and then peeing on the floor when I don't get up. I just wish I could adjust his internal clock. When I woke up, my first thought was "it's the 6th. 21 months. I wonder if I will ever stop counting?" After I let the dog out, he was kind enough to let me go back to sleep. I was dreaming that I was reading an e-mail from a very cute guy (a different cute guy than the one from yesterday's dream post) and it ended with "I love you. Plz respond." It was actually voice activated e-mail, meaning that when I opened it, it was read aloud to me. My response was a moment of panic cut short by the alarm clock going off. Seriously, why can't these cute boys act like this in real life? And why in the world am I listening to Barry Manilow? (James'-not mine. We combined all our music onto an external hard drive at one point). I got out of bed with Tommy Page's "Don't Give up on Love" going through my head-specifically, the line that goes "one in a million, gift from above, don't give up on love." Tommy Page was a pop star with one hit in 1990. And because he was so cute and I was, of course, going to marry him, I had to by his tape because that is what supportive future wives do. I'm such a good, supportive future wife, I now have the CD. Sadly, that is not my most embarassing CD. My friend would say there is definitely a message in the dream and that song lyric that James wants me to be happy. Now I am tempted to tell her just so I can see what she says.

The rest of the 6th was fine. It was Friday after a long and crazy week and I was glad it was over. The day was a lot like last month in that I felt myself feeling I should be sadder than I was. And I have found that a sadness has settled in over the past few days. But it isn't about James.

Tomorrow is November 11th. It is Veteran's Day. Five years ago, at 6:08 pm, Veteran's Day took on an entirely different meaning for me: that is when my father died. He wasn't the first relative I lost, but he was the one that impacted me the most, up until James died. My dad and I had our issues, but we got the chance to resolve them. I knew he was sick. I knew he was dying. I knew when the doctor said 4 months, it would not be that long. And it wasn't. It was just less than one month. He held on long enough for his sister to fly to Idaho from Florida and I from Arizona. He held on long enough to say good-bye to us. And then he slowly let go.

I called every day. Sometimes we would talk for several minutes; sometimes he was too tired for anything more than "I love you." I called on the 11th. I heard the "death rattle" though I didn't know what it was. His caregiver held the phone up to him and I said "Hi Dad. It's Heather. I just called to say hi and I love you." That was the last thing I ever said to him and quite possibly the last thing he ever heard. Less than 10 minutes later, my brother called to tell me he was gone.

"No, he's not. I just talked to him and he's fine. Well, not fine, but he is still alive." I argued. According to his caregiver, he died right after she hung up the phone. She said it was like he was just waiting for me.

I can't believe it has been 5 years. I remember it like it was yesterday. I can't believe how much I still miss him. I don't feel that I miss him any less than when he first died. He is never far from my thoughts-I don't think a day has gone by in the last 5 years when I haven't thought about him. Mostly, I wonder if he would be proud of me. Or would he wonder if his loser daughter will ever be able to attract another man since it was so hard for her the first time around?

And then it makes me think of James. Three years and three months from now, when it is the 5th anniversary of his death, am I going to miss him with the same intensity that I miss him now? Is this never going to subside? And does that mean I am not really getting through this? Because that is how I feel. I feel trapped. I feel like there has been too much loss and too much damage and I am never going to feel anything but sad.

I was laying in bed Sunday night thinking about Dad and how much I still miss him. I was thinking about how he was fine when he was my age. He didn't get sick until he was in his 40's. He died at 53. It occurred to me that I have always been so terrified of growing old alone like my mom and grandmother that it never dawned on me I could get sick and die young like my dad. I don't want to die young. I want a long and happy life, but right now that just feels so out of reach. My dad didn't have to die so young. He could have taken better care of himself. He could probably still be alive today. So, I know that if I did get sick, I could take care of myself and live with diabetes for a very long time. But taking care of myself and managing and illness so I can just grow old and die alone is really not much of an incentive.

Dreams

I have always had weird dreams that I used to remember in vivid detail. One of the changes in me since James died is that I either don't remember my dreams, or I only remember bits and pieces of them. If they are the bad ones in which James has either left me for someone else, or wants to leave me for someone else, those I remember every painful detail of.

I have had a theme of sorts in my dreams for the past several years: whenever I am stressed out, I dream about former classmates, usually one in particular. I am going to guess the psychoanalysis behind this is that I am dreaming about people who were part of my life when I was young and innocent and in stressful times, I want to go back to that place. Lately, I have been dreaming about a couple of different childhood classmates which has been odd as they are not ones I have ever dreamt about. I also dream about people trying to or wanting to kill me a lot. I'm not sure about that one. It might be all the crime drama I watch and read.

Saturday night, I had one of the "kill me" dreams. I had uncovered a killing spree plot and was on the verge of figuring out who was next and how they were going to die (I watch and read A LOT of crime drama), and realized I was on the list. I think I got on the list because I saw the bad guys set fire to my neighbor's house. (I have had a lot of fire dreams since James died. Apparently, dreaming about a house on fire means I need to undergo some transformation). I wasn't supposed to be next, and I didn't know how I was going to die but I ended up running through a snow covered field and hiding behind a snow bank (the bad guys weren't incredibly bright). Then I was laying on a bed and got bit on the fingertip by a really short guy with poisonous fangs that was dressed like an ewok (I have never even seen Star Wars; dreaming about the ring finger can be symbolic of needing to be healed. Being bit represents vulnerability. It doesn't say anything about ewoks). I woke up before I died in my dream telling myself that death in a dream doesn't necessarily mean death in real life but can also signify change. I could use some change-if it is positive. I'm not really sure I consider poisonous ewoks to be a good thing. I'm not really sure how I feel about ewoks period.

Last night I was having such a good dream. I was at a retreat with the new-to-my dreams former classmates. Interestingly, I was at the same campground with them last week. In last week's dream, we were getting ready to leave and I was helping with some last minute trash duties. I went to tell Former Classmate to hold up on taking the last load to the big garbage can because they were trying to gather up everyone for the group picture. We ended up going to the garbage can because he was upset that someone didn't like him and needed to talk and we missed being in the picture (I am sure this has something to do with my abandonment issues).

So anyway, I am back at Unknown Campground with the former classmates and Really Cute Guy (we are talking come to Heather cute) appears and I decide to leave with him to go on a hike. As we leave, I am a bit hesitant because I didn't tell anyone I was leaving with RCG and my former classmates have never met him. So, we are driving along to the hiking spot and all is well, except for me feeling bad that I didn't tell anyone where I was going. And then we are walking along the road uphill (huh?) to the hiking spot and RCG starts thinking he is having a heart attack, but is really having a panic attack. I got him to calm down and was thisclose to kissing him when I woke up. Grr. Why do I always wake up at the good parts (I will take guilt over kissing someone other than James for $200, Alex). Actually, according to the dream dictionary, if you wake up right before you are about to kiss someone it symbolizes you are unsure how they feel about you. Okay, I can see that. But couldn't I have gotten a little action first and then been confused? I so would have been down with that.

I was really hoping to fall back asleep and pick up where the dream left off. But no. I went on to dream that I had to take some aptitude test that was just a bunch of really easy brain teasers. They were out of the real test so I had to take the practice test. Then part way through, one of the teachers asked how many people needed the real test. Four of us raised our hands. So, she went to find some more copies of the real test and never came back. Meanwhile, I continued to work on the practice test and ended up being there longer than everyone else (I started late) and had to leave the classroom I was in so I went to another classroom and was sitting on the floor to finish it. Let's see: according to dreammoods.com, the #4 denotes stability. How boring. Taking a test can denote being put to the test or scrutinized in some way. Or it can be a pun on being testy or irritated. Hmm...I went from being thisclose to making out with a really hot guy to taking a stupid brain teaser aptitude test. That's not the least bit irritating.

I do wish I could remember more of my dreams. Their weirdness always entertained James, who never remembered his dreams. I just know I have a lot of them and they are very active which keeps me from getting restful sleep. At least if I knew what they were about, I would know why I am so damn tired all the time. I'm hoping for a good dream tonight. If I am going to be exhausted in the morning, I should at least get to have some fun in my sleep.

Sharing

James was a boob man. I have never understood the fascination men have with boobs-everyone has them-but he was a boob man. He even had a t-shirt that said "Boobies Make Me Smile." His best friend has it now. They were at Spencer's while his best friend's wife and I got our eyebrows waxed (something I have not felt it was necessary to do again) and they saw the shirt at the same time. James grabbed it first. After he died, it only seemed right for his best friend to have it.

Yesterday, I had a date with the best friend's wife. Our new thing is to go have our 6,000 calorie salads at Sweet Tomatoes and then walk it off at Border's. During lunch, we were talking about the dog they just put down and how the urn company messed up the dog's name on the urn, but they should be able to fix it. I said when the time comes, I am putting Sammy and Charlie in with James. His urn is not sealed so his ashes can be spread someday. I said that my plan was to put the boys in with him and then when my time came, I want to be put in with the three of them and our ashes all spread together.

I then went on to say that I realize this could prevent a problem down the road as Mystery Husband #2 might not like this idea, assuming there will be a MH #2 (if not, I guess that solves this problem). She said that maybe as time goes on, I will change my mind. I said that's true. Maybe I would decide that they could share me. MH #2 would get part and James and the boys would get part. And then I told her to make sure James gets my boobs.

I really do amuse myself.

Ah, widow brain

Pretty much every widowed person I know has "widow brain." It is a side effect of grief caused by your brain trying to protect you from the pain. Unfortunately, it causes you to pretty much forget everything. It is why we suddenly stop speaking mid-sentence-we can't remember what we were talking about/saying. (I freaked my brother out with this one once). It is why we quizzically stare around a room-we have no clue what it is we came in the room for and often times don't remember how we got there in the first place. It is why to this day, I have absolutely no recollection of telling my dear friend I needed light bulbs the day after James died and therefore was very confused when she brought me light bulbs. (I did need them). I could go on, but basically, it's grief-induced amnesia. I refer to it as "griefnesia" because I learned by listening to others in bereavement group it is not limited to widow/ers.

Apparently, I had a widow brain moment last July. And by last July, I mean July 2008. I discovered it yesterday. I would have made this discovery a whole lot sooner if I was not one of the least observant people on the planet, which actually makes this a whole lot funnier.

On July 4, 2008, I started my meetup group for young widows and widowers. When you set up events, one of the questions you are asked is how members of the group will find you. I answered that "I will have a sign for the table." Our first dinner was 7/23/08. Earlier that day, I realized I was supposed to have a sign for the table. So, I printed off two pages with the group name: Portland Metro/SW Washington Young Widows and Widowers. I taped them to the sides of a manilla folder. Not fancy, but I had to go with what materials I had available. We used this sign every month for months until recently when one of the members took the beat-up sign from me and made me pretty, flourescent laminated ones. He just photocopied the one I made onto three different bright sheets of paper and laminated them. Now when Sammy steps on one, it doesn't leave a mark, and the one that was on the island wasn't destroyed by the recent exploding cup incident like the original would have been. It's just sticky.

So anyway, last night I thought it would be fun to make an attendance spreadsheet for my group. We have a member who is highly dramatic and relates to absolutely EVERYTHING anyone says and I was curious to see how many people have come to dinner with her there and have never come back (in all fairness, I do know there could be a wide variety of reasons they have not come back, myself included). There are other concerns I have about this member but that is not for an Internet blog. I also wanted a snapshot of who has never come to dinner and wanted it in a more consolidated location than having to look up everyone's profile for the information.

As I was working on the spreadsheet, I noticed it says Portland/Vancouver Young Widows & Widowers Meetup Group across the top of our home page. I thought it was weird my AO thanked the creepy guys for their interest in the Portland/Vancouver Young Widows and Widowers group in his e-mail explaining why he was removing them, but I figured he was just being lazy and didn't want to type out Portland Metro/SW Washington Young Widows and Widowers group. It is a mouthful, but there is a reason I named the group that: I didn't want widow/ers who lived outside of the Portland/Vancouver city limits to think they weren't welcome. They probably would have been smart enough to figure it out, but I wasn't exactly thinking rationally at the time (only 5 months after James died).

Then I started to wonder when my AO changed the name of the group (this goes to the whole unobservant thing) and why he didn't tell me. The more I thought (obsessed) about it, the more upset I got. Why would he just take it upon himself to change the name of the group? And to not even mention it to me? It is MY group (I have control issues). I wondered if I should confront him about it or let it go. "Let it go," I kept telling myself. "In the grand scheme of things, it is really no big deal." I wondered what else he was able to do in his capacity of AO without me knowing about it. Okay, so I was downright pissed at this point. Part of it was due to what I felt was a complete lack of respect. And part of it was a self-esteem thing, or more accurately, lack of. I felt he was making changes he felt would improve the group because he didn't think I was doing a good enough job.

So, went to the meetup FAQ section and found out exactly what a AO can and cannot do. It turns out an AO cannot change the name of the group. It turns out that for the last 16 months, I have thought I named the group something other than what I actually named it (this does explain why new members always look confused when they see the sign). And I have posted a monthly dinner every month for 16 months and never noticed what I thought I named the group and what I actually named it are not the same thing. Which is really sad, considering I am in several groups and I have to click the link for our group on my home page to get to the group page-the link that says Portland/Vancouver Young Widows & Widowers Meetup Group, and apparently always has.

My AO called this morning. We were chatting about the group and I told him I felt I owed him an apology. "No you don't," he said. "You don't know why I think this," I told him and then told him this story, although I left out the self-esteem part. When I finished the story and apologized for mentally accusing him of something it turns out I did, he was laughing. "That's funny," he said. "You're hilarious." I told him my co-worker thought the same thing yesterday when I told her I was 98% sure I am keeping the BMW. He also said that if he had changed the name without talking to me about it, that would NOT have been no big deal; that it would have been huge.

Lord knows what else I have done or thought I have done over the last 21 months. I'm not sure if I really want to know, unless it's funny. I do have the ability to laugh at myself. And this is why if James ever sends me a sign, it is going to have to be a huge, flashing neon billboard. Which I will probably still manage to drive by everyday for a month before I see it.

Some things you just cannot make up

The wind is blowing lightly.
The rain has stopped.
It is the calm before the storm.
What will the storm bring?

This has been a weird and trying week. Two weekends ago, I was talking to my friend and she said the energy in the air felt "off." I agreed. She said it felt like the calm before the storm. I agreed with that too. She was talking about the disconnect she felt about the reality that they were going to have to put their sweet dog down not yet settling in. As usual, I had no idea what I was talking about. I pretty much just make crap up as I go. I'm easily entertained that way. But some things you just cannot make up.

Last week, the week of Halloween, I had 6 new members join my young widow and widowers meetup group. That in itself was odd. Usually, the group grows at a rate of one or two new members every month or so. Normally, when a new member joins, I send them an e-mail welcoming them to the group. I could just have a canned e-mail that meetup sends out for me, but I like to tailor them the best I can based on what the new member has put in their introduction.

The first of the six was a gentleman and I did not get a good vibe from his profile. He did not say anything about being widowed in his introduction-it read more like what you would find as the header for a personal ad. The types of groups he was interested in joining also made it appear he was just looking to meet women. So, I sent him an e-mail offering my condolences, stated how I find it helpful to be around others whose partners had died young, etc. I was trying to clearly state what the group is about without coming out and accusing him of not being legit. Then I sent an e-mail to my assistant organizer and asked him to check out New Guy's profile and tell me what he thinks. I didn't say anything else. I wanted to know if I was being paranoid. My AO, as meetup calls them, also said he didn't feel this guy was right and said I should kick him out of the group. We went back and forth and I ultimately decided we needed to give him the benefit of the doubt. I have heard and read several stories of men and women preying on the widowed; I just didn't want to believe it though. Word on the street is we all have hefty life insurance payouts and are so lonely we will sleep with anything with the right parts. Um, no and eww.

I sent my e-mails to three others, leaving me with two. One, a widower and the other a gal who joined the group looking for support for a widowed friend. She however is not widowed. So, I decided to leave her for last so I could think a bit more about what to say to her. I went to e-mail New Guy #2 and looked at his profile. All the groups he is interested in joining are centered around sex. Mostly tantric sex. I paged my poor co-worker to my office (I was on my lunch break at the time). I said bad words. Lots of very bad words. I decided not too send my e-mail. Later, another co-worker got an earful with even more bad words. She just laughed. Not at the situation, but because for some reason my co-workers think it is really funny when I get all riled up about something. I decided I wasn't comfortable sending a welcome e-mail to New Guy #2. I was afraid he would think I was offering to help him with his "sexual healing." (Marvin Gaye is now ruined for me. So is White Snake, which has nothing to do with this story, though it does have to do with the male anatomy, which I guess is the tie-in). So when I got home, I called my AO so he could send the welcome e-mail to NG #2, which was the point of my call and which we finally got to in a very circular fashion. He answered the phone "Hey, I learned something today" (gotta love caller ID), so it really is his fault I didn't start out the conversation by getting to the point. In all fairness, at least 90% of our conversations take a very long route to get to the point, if by the end of the route we still remember what the original point even was.

Forty eight minutes later, which felt more like 15, we hung up having made the decision he would e-mail the new guys. I told him I didn't care what he said to them. I trust him-I knew I didn't have to write his e-mail for him. He ultimately sent them very polite e-mails in which he told them we had to protect the safety of our members and based on their interests, he was removing them from the group. I didn't know he could do that as the AO, but I am glad he did. (I wonder what else he can do. I should probably look into that. Although, I'm not really that concerned about it because like I said, I really do trust him). I stand by his decision. This was Monday.

Yesterday, we had another new member join our group. She joined because she had just broken up with her significant other. Seriously. I know that I loosely define widow so I can include myself (kind of a given since it's my group and all), but are you kidding me? Are there really people out there who do not know that widowed means there is a death of a person involved? Like, a real death. Not just wishing they were dead. And she RSVP'd "maybe" for our next dinner. She thinks she feels bad now. Come to a dinner with a bunch of angry people whose partners can't wake up one day, realize they made a mistake and beg for forgiveness. And then see how you feel. That's what I wanted to say in my e-mail explaining why I was removing her from the group. Instead, I politely suggested she might find she relates better with a divorce support group. Sally the "football widow" better not join our group-I don't think I would be able to stop Angry Heather on that one.

Seriously. You just cannot make this stuff up. I feel this is the storm my calm was preparing me for. The absurdity is almost comical and would be if I did not have the emotional well-being of a group of vulnerable women to take into consideration. I have reported these three to meetup to see if they can determine if any of them are the same person. I simply cannot have people come into my group with ulterior motives. I am not running a dating site. I am not running a group for people looking for rebound hookups. I am running a group for people who want the understanding of others who can help them get through the most devastating time of their life.

My co-worker made the comment today that beyond the disbelief of all of this, she feels anger. She said she has seen the tremendous leaps and bounds I have made since James died, with starting this group, with joining other groups to put myself out there, with regaining some confidence in myself and she said things like this make her afraid I will take huge steps backwards-that I will lose faith in people. I told her it absolutely does slam a door for me. It does make me want to stay in the cozy and safe confines of my house. All I really know is James. What if I do put myself out there and in the end, all I get is scammed? The thought makes me not even want to try to find love again.

It is still calm outside, but the wind has picked up a little. There is a storm coming. It is supposed to be a big one. Hopefully, the only thing it brings is wind and rain.

Update on the Exploding Cup

Yesterday when I got home from work I checked my front porch to see if my friend dropped off some cookies for me. She tried a new recipe from a book I lent her and I guess the cookies are pretty good. There were no cookies on my door step, which was a bummer as it was definitely a cookie sort of day.

As I was heating up my dinner, it occurred to me that I should have received my replacement cup. That was not out there either. Since the lady who took the order made it clear she didn't really care to get my address correct, I figured there was a good chance it was delivered to our old address and toyed with the idea of going to see if they got it.

The cup was waiting on porch when I got home today. Still no cookies though. I opened the box to find another box with the words "Vic" and "mug" on it. I thought "please let that mean it was packed by Vic and not that this is a mug from the Victoria set." It's a mug from the Victoria set. I do not have the Victoria set. I have what used to be called the Milano set, but is now the Venice set.

So, tomorrow I will call again to see about getting a replacement cup for the one that exploded. I am hoping they will let me keep the Victoria cup. I am sure my mother wouldn't object to me sending her a spare cup for her set.

On the plus side, at least they sent it to the right house.

Kelly Clarkson: "Already Gone"

James and I did not watch "American Idol." He wasn't really interested and I suck at watching it. I am so tone deaf that the ones that sound good to me are the ones Simon thinks are the most awful thing he has ever heard and the ones I think suck are the ones he likes. So, after about 3 episodes of this spanning various seasons, and usually the result of it being on in the background at bunco, I have given up trying to watch it.

Over time, James realized he liked the songs that were released from Season 1 winner Kelly Clarkson's 2nd album-"Breakaway." I like a few of her songs as well, so we bought the CD. I like Season 4 winner Carrie Underwood better, but the country label ruined her for James. He wasn't a country music fan, but did own Diamond Rio's "Greatest Hits." It is a great album-I had a copy of it too. Actually, I may still have both copies. I have Carrie's first two CDs, and James did like a couple of her songs, but I haven't really kept up on either her or Kelly's music as I listen to the '60's and '70's station in the car and CDs and MP3s from my collection at work. James, on the other hand, listened to the Top 40 station and just told me what songs he thought I would like. It was a great arrangement. I got to know what songs to try out and download and didn't have to listen to a DJ I can't stand. For the most part, I honestly couldn't tell you what is popular or what has been released in the past (almost) 22 months.

It would appear Kelly Clarkson has a new album out. Sunday, I went to a meetup event at OMSI, which is the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry science center and a really cool place. I have been hesitating to drive James' car across the river to Portland and decided a Sunday morning following Halloween would be a good time as traffic would probably be light. I have been driving the car to work so the radio was on the oldies station. For some reason, I decided to switch it to the Top 40 station. The new song by Kelly "Already Gone" was playing. When I left OMSI, the same song was on the radio. Both times, I turned to it at exactly the same spot in the song-the end of the chorus where the lyrics are "but I want you to move on, so I am already gone." Below are the lyrics. Both times I got in the car, it was the 2nd to last time she was singing the chorus, so I didn't hear the first two verses.

Kelly Clarkson: "Already Gone"

Remember all the things we wanted
Now all our memories, they're haunted
We were always meant to say good-bye
Even with our fists held high
It never would have worked out right, yeah
We were never meant for do or die
I didn't want us to burn out
I didn't come here to hurt you
Now I can't stop

[Chorus]
I want you to know
That it doesn't matter
Where we take this road
But someone's gotta go
And I want you to know
You couldn't have loved me better
But I want you to move on
So I'm already gone

Looking at you makes it harder
But I know that you'll find another
That doesn't always make you wanna cry
It started with the perfect kiss
And then we could feel the poison set in
"Perfect" couldn't keep this love alive
You know that I love you so
I love you enough to let you go

[Chorus] (Here is where I tuned in both times-at the end of this chorus

You can't make it feel right
When you know that it's wrong
I'm already gone, already gone
There's no moving on
So I'm already gone
Ahhh, already gone, already gone, already gone
Ahhh, already gone, already gone, already gone

Remember all the things we wanted
Now all our memories, they're haunted
We were always meant to say good-bye

You can't make it feel right
When you know that it's wrong
I'm already gone, already gone
There's no moving on,
So I'm already gone

It was pretty weird to turn on the radio twice in his car, to a station I don't normally listen to and have the first words both times be "but I want you to move on, so I'm already gone." Now that I see the rest of the lyrics, though I can tell it is about a break up, I feel like James was telling me it's okay for me to move forward and to love again, the one thing I wish he would have been able to tell me when he was alive.