Last Sunday we went to Jeff's grandparents house for the first time since Christmas. I worked and prayed for weeks going into it that I would be able to face his family with grace and dignity. In the end, I was scared to death. What I was not prepared for at all was walking into the house for the first time without Jeffrey. As I entered the living room, I instantly saw him climbing up the stairs and running around the living room in his little red Christmas sweater. It was all I could do to keep from falling apart. I certainly didn't want to cry in front of everyone. The rest of the day I felt like a wounded dog, trying to stay to myself and just waiting for someone to get too close so I could snap at them. I've felt that way a lot lately. I experienced it again today as we went to my Mema's. As we've talked on the phone about the visit for weeks, each time she has said, "It has been forever since I've seen y'all." Innocent enough, right? But it brings on my growl. What I hear is "you haven't visited me since Jeffrey died." It's like a stab in the heart. I know she doesn't at all mean it that way, but it's hurtful. Thankfully I heard that for the last time today shortly after we arrived at her house. She soon mentioned how quiet we all were. I don't thing it was on purpose, but it is hard for all of us to experience the "firsts". Even now, nearly six months later, the firsts still cut like the initial loss. With each one, it's like a huge neon sign flashes his name along with a slide show of memories. I know the memories should be thought of as happy, but they can also be haunting.
Another first this week was going to the dollar movies with the girls. The night he died, we had all six gone to see "True Grit". I never gave it a thought until we were about halfway there and the panic struck. I started thinking of other things we could go do for fun instead, but decided to "put on my big girl panties" and go. I made them sit low in the theater (we sat high that night) and I got through it easier than I thought I would. It all just sucks so badly. I just want him back! I find myself yelling out loud at times when the reality hits hard, often towards the end of the hallway after passing all of his pictures and nearing his room. Sometimes, I feel as if I'm going crazy. Often, I erupt in anger just like the wounded dog being poked at or spectated.
Seeing people that haven't been here through this process is like meeting strangers. They are the same, only awkward not knowing what to say or do, but I am forever changed. Jeff and i used to joke about how we were the only "normal" people. I could certainly never use the word normal to describe myself again. Some of the changed in myself have been good but many have just left me wounded. Some may say we have lost a child and survived. I would say we will spend the rest of our lives surviving. I am so thankful for my support group of friends and family that have been here from the beginning and some added along the way. It is so comforting to come back home to them and know that they are available anytime I need them. They are comfortable talking about Jeffrey, but also can treat me like a normal person. I love you guys! I couldn't ever thank you enough!
