So, it’s the day. And I’m in it. It’s about 2:30 in the afternoon, and I’ve done everything I can to keep busy. Including, apparently, not sleeping. This post will likely be rambling and sad. I’m sorry about that.
Yesterday I got it in my head that I needed to fix the grave markers for SP and her buddy Big B (my parents’ lab, SP’s mentor). The markers I bought had faded in the sun after not-quite two years. I thought the ceramic tiles had been painted, but apparently they had a thin veneer of printed plastic on the tiles, which faded to nothingness over the last several months. So I figured I’d just paint something on them and seal them, like using stencils or something. Only the Michael’s I went to didn’t have stencils I wanted (I wanted letters and numbers, but they only had letters and the fonts were weird and not readable or too big), so I ended up buying paint pens and some other shit to try to fix the ceramic tile signs. And after spending too much money and going home, I couldn’t get any of the stuff to work the way I wanted. I ended up just hand-writing on the ceramic tiles with the paint pens. I’m so mad at myself because they look like shit, but I did the best I could. Hub put one coat of sealant on them early this morning and I hope will do another coat later today. Then I’ll put them back up for the time being. Then I’ll find something to replace them. But meanwhile, after I gave up and just wrote on the ceramic tile, I took Butthead and Le Moo outside and I sat down on the deck step and cried. It’s been hot and humid and I didn’t really want to be out there, but at least I was in some shade…and I just cried. Hub came out and found me out there, but Butthead was, well, being a Butthead, so he took her in the house and left me outside with Le Moo. I think he wanted to sit with me, but he felt it was more important to get Butthead away from me at that moment.
I cried because I miss SP, and I feel lost without her. It’s like she took away my purpose in life. Just typing that makes me tear up. Sometimes I feel wrong for this grief. Sometimes I wonder how anyone can not feel this grief in this kind of situation. And sometimes I wonder what other people think of how much I am grieving SP. The length and depth of it. Am I so odd? I want to sit here and defend myself, to explain what my grief is like on a daily basis, versus around the time of the anniversary where I am particularly emotional. But really, I don’t want to defend myself, or quantify what I am feeling, because it is my life, my world, and more importantly, my grief.
I had weird dreams last night/early this morning. This is not really news for me, as I tend to have strange dreams. This time was about not being able to see the clock, not knowing what time it was, and no one answering me when I asked them about it. It was weird and sad and lonely. Hub is sleeping on the couch downstairs. He hasn’t been sleeping well and spent all day Saturday helping a friend move. He is sore and tired, and apparently hurt his ankle, too. After grocery shopping this morning, I’ve let him be. I tend to want to grieve alone, even though I know he feels as deeply as I do about SP. I think he grieves differently than I do, and although he does tend to want to grieve with me, it makes me way more emotional. I feel like if I let him be, he won’t try to share my grief and I won’t break down as hard. I don’t know. I’m rambling.
I’ve stopped and started this post a couple of times, each time breaking away from it to go do something. On one hand I want very much to release my emotions here, but on the other hand I am afraid to let go too much. Just re-reading my post about the anniversary of my loss of SP made me tear up. I don’t want to lose control because it costs me too much, physically and emotionally. As I’m typing this evening, I’m trying to think of something else I can go do to distract myself some more. I guess I will give in, because I don’t feel like I’ll be doing anything other than rambling at this point.