So-called friends

I'm getting a little tired of criticism from friends. Oh, it doesn't come across as criticism all the time - although some of it does.
But I get remarks.
"We don't hear from you."
"I thought you were going to call me."
"You don't ask how I am."
Don't you get it? I am grieving. Leave me the f-alone. I miss my best friend. I miss my constant companion , my love, my other half. The man who used to finish my sentences, whose sentences I used to finish, the man I slept next to for over half my life.
I don't care about your inconsequential life. I don't care about MY inconsequential life.
I read in a book last night that after time, the brain waves and heart rates of couples deeply in love and who have been together for some time actually become in sync with one another. It's no wonder that grieving becomes a physical process in addition to an emotional one. The body of the partner left behind is actually missing one of its parts. It is a true amputation.
But people don't get that. It seems to them that grieving should be a finite thing and after a set period of time, it should be over. It's an annoyance to them. It's inconvenient.
You know what? Too bad.
I have dropped some "friends" who just didn't get it and I feel more dropped friends coming.
Maybe that's not the best thing for me to do but I just don't care.
Everyone has suggestions like joining a club or volunteering. But that doesn't interest me. I barely have enough energy to get the things done that need to be done. I don't need the pressure of adding more. I have barely enough caring and energy for me and the kids and my work. I just don't have enough left over for anyone or anything else.
I'm sorry if this grieving thing is not moving fast enough for some people but you know what - I JUST DON'T CARE.

To Where You Are

I saw this on PBS last night. I have seen it before and I believe I have even posted it on this blog but it is so beautiful, I wanted to post it again.
I had this song sung at John's funeral. It says it all. Tonight marks 13 months. Too long, My Baby.

Gone Too Soon

John loved our "kids". Happy Father's Day, Sweetheart.

The little things

Is it stupid to want to hold onto things that make me feel closer to John? Even if by anyone else's standards they would be ridiculous?
Today the cleaning ladies came. They are thorough and they do a very good job. Too good.
Today they emptied the waste basket in the bathroom. No big deal, right? Except they took the plastic liner when they cleaned it out. The plastic liner that John had put there sometime last year. And it bothered me that it was gone and I had to put a new one in there now. One less thing John left behind.
I find myself doing that often. Wanting to save things that he touched or he placed.
I wear the reader glasses that he used.
I haven't cleaned out his desk. I want to leave the papers the way he left them.
I won't use the last of the ground coffee beans because he ground them.
So many little things that tell me he was here, he cared for us, he made this his home.
He loved me.
Some days I just wish I would go crazy so I wouldn't have to think any more.

Thank you, my Love

Thank you for the love, my John.

No better

Well, I have passed the one year mark. That magical milestone that everyone references. Did it help?
No.
Did I expect it would?
No.
I don't feel any better, any different. If anything, the reality is sinking in more now and I feel worse.
I still can't believe that life has become this. This never-ending wish for John to come back. For this nightmare to be over. For my life to go back to the way it was. We were so happy, so content. And now, nothing.
There is absolutely nothing that makes me want to get out of bed in the morning. Nothing that interests me. Nothing that makes me look forward to anything.
I have tried.
I have plastered the walls with pictures of John.
It didn't help.
I have made a Memorial Garden for him.
It didn't help.
I am taking care of his mother.
It doesn't help.
I am seeing a therapist.
It doesn't help.
Nothing helps. Nothing makes it better.
I still miss him with every cell of my being. No matter what I do in the day, he is constantly on my mind and I am acutely aware that he is not here. And never will be again.
I don't know what to do any more. I suppose it is a failing of mine not to be better. Other women have gone through this and have gotten through this. I don't seem to be able to.
The future seems like one big yawning abyss.