More ramblings..
It's midnight here and I just finished watching a show that felt like it was God tapping me on the shoulder. It's been a while since I sat and cried about things that are pointless, but I guess I am tonite. In this show, a woman called a co-worker, who was obviously exhausted, to beg for help. She needed her to cover her shift which must have started soon, because she was unexpectedly called out of town. The co-worker replied very crossly, even saying something excessively hurtful to this other lady. Long story short, the co-worker goes into work to find a plane has crashed and everyone aboard was killed. Its' going to be a long night of work for all of the people she works with in the medical field. The lady whose shift she was covering was aboard that plane and they died with cross words between them. I dont' remember the direct quote, I just remember the way the woman played the character as she went through the desk of dead woman, and how she cried when she found a photo of them at some office party. She talked about saying things, and how you never know when it is your last day and how hurtful people can be to one another.
As most of you who read this know, I'm a widow. My husband was killed in a car accident 3 years ago come Christmas Day. The last words I said to him were "I hate you you're a horrible father". I was sick and our son was a 2 yr old handful and I had begged him to come get him, I was having a bad day and couldn't take it. Even as he was stuttering and trying to explain or talk to me, I hung up on him. He called right back and I didn't answer. I remember thinking to myself as I laid in bed, "I'll bitch at him about it later". Except, 30 minutes after talking to him, he died. He was killed by his best friend who lost control of the car he was driving drunk.
Big. Deep. Sigh.
Sometimes I lay in bed and wonder if the right choices are being made and if I'll ever learn to look at my son and just see him and not his father. Most weeks go by and I don't cry. It's been 3 years, we were only together 5 and for the most part, there's not much the same in the house anymore. I've worked hard to make it my home, not the home it was. Tonight, I feel like there's a ghost keeping me company. It doesn't help that my boyfriend is half a country away in LA surrounded by sun and fun doing his job that he "loves" and seems so distant to what I'm going through.
Sometimes, I miss things.
I miss laying in bed those extra 20 minutes because I liked to sleep and I loved hearing my son laugh the way he only laughed for his dad. I miss curling up to someone who knew just how to rub my back and make me feel fabulous without being pushy. I miss knowing I was loved so much that even when we fought, he still cared. I miss drying my hair and hearing him in the shower, singing some stupid song from Matrix that would be in my head for hours. I miss the way he looked when he came in from a run around the neighborhood and was all hot and sweaty and out of breath. I miss how he took care of me when I was so sick I couldn't stand. I miss how he always tucked me in at night, making sure the blankets were just the way I liked them. I miss him laying his head on my stomach and reading a story to my belly when I was pregnant. I miss the way he looked at me.
Sure we had bad times. Okay. We had lots of bad BAD times. But we had lots of good and great times too. I feel like my life isn't my own and won't be again for many years.
Moi
As most of you who read this know, I'm a widow. My husband was killed in a car accident 3 years ago come Christmas Day. The last words I said to him were "I hate you you're a horrible father". I was sick and our son was a 2 yr old handful and I had begged him to come get him, I was having a bad day and couldn't take it. Even as he was stuttering and trying to explain or talk to me, I hung up on him. He called right back and I didn't answer. I remember thinking to myself as I laid in bed, "I'll bitch at him about it later". Except, 30 minutes after talking to him, he died. He was killed by his best friend who lost control of the car he was driving drunk.
Big. Deep. Sigh.
Sometimes I lay in bed and wonder if the right choices are being made and if I'll ever learn to look at my son and just see him and not his father. Most weeks go by and I don't cry. It's been 3 years, we were only together 5 and for the most part, there's not much the same in the house anymore. I've worked hard to make it my home, not the home it was. Tonight, I feel like there's a ghost keeping me company. It doesn't help that my boyfriend is half a country away in LA surrounded by sun and fun doing his job that he "loves" and seems so distant to what I'm going through.
Sometimes, I miss things.
I miss laying in bed those extra 20 minutes because I liked to sleep and I loved hearing my son laugh the way he only laughed for his dad. I miss curling up to someone who knew just how to rub my back and make me feel fabulous without being pushy. I miss knowing I was loved so much that even when we fought, he still cared. I miss drying my hair and hearing him in the shower, singing some stupid song from Matrix that would be in my head for hours. I miss the way he looked when he came in from a run around the neighborhood and was all hot and sweaty and out of breath. I miss how he took care of me when I was so sick I couldn't stand. I miss how he always tucked me in at night, making sure the blankets were just the way I liked them. I miss him laying his head on my stomach and reading a story to my belly when I was pregnant. I miss the way he looked at me.
Sure we had bad times. Okay. We had lots of bad BAD times. But we had lots of good and great times too. I feel like my life isn't my own and won't be again for many years.
Moi