At what point is this going to sink in? gone. How? I just don't get how I could watch something happening. How I could feel it slipping away a bit at a time and still not understand that it isn't coming back. I can't tell you how many times a day I look up and can almost see him. Right in front of me. I was at my neice's birthday party and almost lost it because I could feel him behind me. I could feel those hands that I know so well resting on my shoulders. I could hear his laugh and comments as though he were still here, whispering them in my ear.
I hear his plea to not cry for him because it makes him sad. I hear his tiny admission that he doesn't want to do this to me/us {leave}. I know that I know that I know that he's okay. I know that I will see him again. I can't wait for that day. And, where once I would've been looking forward to meeting Jesus, now I just can't wait for Aaron. I just want my Aaron. Such a good dad. Such a good husband and friend. How can I not have him? How can my kids not have him??? He would've been their coach, their playmate, their confidant. I can hear him teasing our daughter to not date. I can hear him laughing at our son's antics. And, I guess now, I can try to find comfort in that Caleb has him.
I just don't understand, Lord. I don't get it. I know your ways are perfect. I know you work things out for our good. I know that you are here and you are not going to let me fall on this. But. I feel like I have to hold you at arm's length until I can grasp it. My entire understanding of who God is feels rattled. I don't know how I could build so much faith up and then watch it crumble. It feels false. It feels like I had to have missed something along the way.
I am so confused. People my age don't {or shouldn't} have to figure this stuff out. Would it be better if it was a divorce? I just don't know. I don't know anything. I don't know where I should live, what I should do, what I should eat, when I should go to bed. I don't know a darn thing. That's not true... I know how to breathe. And, at times, that's the most I can manage. Part of me wants to pick it all up and go start over. According to a new book we got in, that's the beauty of being American. I can just move a couple hundred miles away and start over. I know that's not me though. I want my kids to know their dad. He is so, so real to me and I need him to be real to them. I need that. I was reading a JFK article today and it was talking about how Jackie would have JFK's friends come over for lunch regularly so that her children could have a piece of their dad every day. Oh, if I could figure that out. There must be some mistake, because he can't just be gone. He can't.
While I'm working on my taxes and getting schooled on how long I'm classified as "married" {according to the government} and then how long I'm "widowed" and still filing "jointly" {something like that} and then when I am my own person again... I just keep thinking, how in the hell did this happen? They must have me confused with someone else. This can't be the reality. Surely, we'll get this all figured out soon, right? The delusions just keep coming, but I'm getting a feel for how delusions take place and how real they feel to the person that's in them. And, a funny thing about that is, I'm not even bothered by it. One would assume that I'd fight delusions. I just don't have it in me to fight them. It seems much more natural to embrace... or, I'm just tired. Tired of it all. I wish I knew how long I'd be this exhausted with the fight. The best I can do is flip the switch and be someone else for a bit-- Working Girl, Goofy Girl, Shopping Girl {maybe too often frequenting her}, Momma Girl {though she's hard because she wants to work with her other 1/2}.
It's sad.
I hear his plea to not cry for him because it makes him sad. I hear his tiny admission that he doesn't want to do this to me/us {leave}. I know that I know that I know that he's okay. I know that I will see him again. I can't wait for that day. And, where once I would've been looking forward to meeting Jesus, now I just can't wait for Aaron. I just want my Aaron. Such a good dad. Such a good husband and friend. How can I not have him? How can my kids not have him??? He would've been their coach, their playmate, their confidant. I can hear him teasing our daughter to not date. I can hear him laughing at our son's antics. And, I guess now, I can try to find comfort in that Caleb has him.
I just don't understand, Lord. I don't get it. I know your ways are perfect. I know you work things out for our good. I know that you are here and you are not going to let me fall on this. But. I feel like I have to hold you at arm's length until I can grasp it. My entire understanding of who God is feels rattled. I don't know how I could build so much faith up and then watch it crumble. It feels false. It feels like I had to have missed something along the way.
I am so confused. People my age don't {or shouldn't} have to figure this stuff out. Would it be better if it was a divorce? I just don't know. I don't know anything. I don't know where I should live, what I should do, what I should eat, when I should go to bed. I don't know a darn thing. That's not true... I know how to breathe. And, at times, that's the most I can manage. Part of me wants to pick it all up and go start over. According to a new book we got in, that's the beauty of being American. I can just move a couple hundred miles away and start over. I know that's not me though. I want my kids to know their dad. He is so, so real to me and I need him to be real to them. I need that. I was reading a JFK article today and it was talking about how Jackie would have JFK's friends come over for lunch regularly so that her children could have a piece of their dad every day. Oh, if I could figure that out. There must be some mistake, because he can't just be gone. He can't.
While I'm working on my taxes and getting schooled on how long I'm classified as "married" {according to the government} and then how long I'm "widowed" and still filing "jointly" {something like that} and then when I am my own person again... I just keep thinking, how in the hell did this happen? They must have me confused with someone else. This can't be the reality. Surely, we'll get this all figured out soon, right? The delusions just keep coming, but I'm getting a feel for how delusions take place and how real they feel to the person that's in them. And, a funny thing about that is, I'm not even bothered by it. One would assume that I'd fight delusions. I just don't have it in me to fight them. It seems much more natural to embrace... or, I'm just tired. Tired of it all. I wish I knew how long I'd be this exhausted with the fight. The best I can do is flip the switch and be someone else for a bit-- Working Girl, Goofy Girl, Shopping Girl {maybe too often frequenting her}, Momma Girl {though she's hard because she wants to work with her other 1/2}.
It's sad.
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