The Mourning...and the Mourning After

All but one day, I feel like I'm on auto pilot.
I can tell it's wearing off though.
Reality is chipping away at the active defense I've put up.
Some days, I would like nothing more than to collapse into a puddle of tears or scream to the top of my lungs until I couldn't make any more noise and can barely breathe.
I hurt, physically besides emotionally but I can't pin point what hurts.

For an unknown reason, I had a very emotionally difficult day yesterday. Nothing significant happened to cause it, they just happen.  It's not the first time, I'm sure it wont be the last but I trudged through to the end and everyone survived it.
This morning, I finished my coffee, walked in to the bathroom to get dressed for the day and realized. I never changed out of my clothes from the day before! I was still fully dressed even to my socks! Must have been tougher on me than I thought. 

Now here's the odd part, when my husband left me before we knew he had dementia, I felt the same way.
My feelings are exactly the same with the exception that, I'm not angry at him.
This time I'm not fueled from the hurt, embarrassment and suffering he caused, seeking to inflict misery on him.
This time I don't feel rejected or worthless.
This time I don't feel shunned or ashamed.
This time there is no hope of him returning to me, ever.

I feel hollow/numb/ with an outward layer of emotion.
Like a newly painted box.
From the outside you see it's a box.
One would wonder what treasures it might hold inside.
But when you look inside, there's appears to be nothing there.
And upon touching it, you notice the paint hasn't dried yet.

I miss so much the reconciliation we were making before it was cut off by Lewy Body Dementia.
I miss his presence, even all the "Honey" he gave me.
I miss the dreams we never got a chance to start.
I miss giggling at the confusion that made us both laugh.
I miss him shuffling over to my bed for a kiss goodnight.
I miss his shiny hazel blue eyes.

I miss him and what should have been.
This time as well as the last.

Good Night, Honey. I Love You

I still say these words audibly every night.
The dog must think I'm talking to him. He snuggles in close.

My tears fall.

At times, I find myself missing my husband for all the things we didn't have.
For a  few years, due to his Lewy Body dementia, we didn't even sleep in the same bed. He didn't always know who I was and much of the time didn't trust or like me. I soldiered on with his care and my love for him. The trenches of caregiving are not an easy place to be a lot of times.
Knowing my husband is no longer suffering, should make his absence feel "easier" for lack of a better word. But it's doesn't.

Before his diagnosis, he had issues I can now look back at and say were a result of his lewy body. Those issues resulted in him leaving me and being gone for 18 months. The odd thing about the feelings then and now, his absence still feels the same, I'm just not mad at him this time.
Where there was anger towards him and yet, still that small chance of hope for a reconciliation that did come, it has now been replaced with feelings of being hollow and the stark knowledge of "he can never, ever, EVER, come back".
You would think I would know what to expect, how to handle the next thing.
But I don't, I still hurt deeply inside and spend a lot of time praying for peace and guidance for my ever changing life. 

1 month

1 month
the calendar verifys this.
How can it be a month already?
Some days if feels like it happened yesterday, sometimes even today.
Sometimes it feels like a lifetime has passed.
And sometimes, it doesn't feel like it even happened.
I'm still watching the clock to rush home, or waiting for the "Honey" or counting the plates to serve supper.

#death, #grief , #mourning