Sunday, September 17, 2006

Friendlies Only

Please don't read this post unless you are my friend and can accept me as I am. This is a whiny, selfish post and I am reluctant to blog it. But I said I would be honest about this process and that means blogging when I am not who I would hope to be. Note that I am aware of this shortcoming and will rectify it, get beyond it, and live happlily ever after but right now, F-it.

There. I feel better. The Dodgers lost. Actually, Iain was amazing and made it through all 9 innings completely content to be outside in the hot sun. He cheered and clapped and kept pointing out ant the field saying "bay-ball"! I went with his Grandpa, my mom's husband, Larry. Larry and I never really cliqued until Mom died and since Dalton's death, Larry has really stepped up to the plate (forgive the baseball metaphor) as Iain's Grandpa. He comes over virtually every Saturday to be with Iain and do "guy" things around the house, like bring in the garbage cans and hang shelves. That is not the whiny part of the post.

Here it comes.

I am 31 years old and I am spending my Sunday afternoons going to baseball games, cooking dinner for, and sharing a bottle of wine with my Stepdad. Where is my husband? No, I don't even mean where is my Dalton. Just, where is my husband. I don't want to discover that I already had the best of what my life was to be. That doesn't mean that Dalton wasn't amazing. It just means that I've got another thirty years to go (assuming I die young!) and I don't want it to be downhill from here.

I'd like to think that I still have some spunk to bring to a relationship - joy, spontaneity, passion, intelligent conversation, fun, adoration, etc. But, crap, I can't do that yet. Dalton hasn't even been gone for 4 months. And, that makes me really, really selfish and uncaring. Of course, the truth is that Dalton has been gone a lot longer than that. Dalton has been gone since January 23rd when they cut him open and rearranged his insides. And, except for three weeks between January 1st - January 22nd (which were incredible and priceless), he had been gone since October. But, heck, who's counting right?

Alright so that is really the selfish part. I don't really want to go through the pain of grief. I'd rather skip it and move on to something better. And I know that makes me a biatch. But my God, I am not dead. I didn't die with Dalton and he wouldn't want me to.

Of course, he wouldn't want me to be over him after four months either. But trust me, I am not. I just don't like having to live here right now, alone.


Blogger Christine said...

Tricia -- I stumbled on your blog from The Cat Lady's comments. I've been swimming around in your archives and am in awe of what you've been through -- and continue to go through. Don't ever feel bad about feeling bad right now. Your feelings are normal and appropriate, and I give you major props for just putting one foot in front of the other each day. I'm going to keep reading, so keep writing. :)

2:35 PM  
Blogger amanda said...

I can so relate. I am so scared to think that THIS is my future, getting videos on Netflix and living with my cats and dog and being alone. I started dating Eric when I had just turned 16, he was my first serious boyfriend and my high school sweetheart, my one and only soulmate and lover. And now he is GONE.

I am only twenty-six and am in no way over Eric at all, but even if I was interested in meeting someone I fear that I have been out of the game for so long that I would be hopelessly clueless. And trying to find someone my age who isn't freaked out by the fact that I'm a widow? Good luck. I can see it in people's faces when I tell them.

I don't know what I can tell you, other than I think that I understand how you feel.


7:54 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home