Every "first" is going to be difficult this year. I know that. Knowing that does not make it easier to prepare, though. Jack's birthday ended up being great, and he truly had a great day. He even said it was his best birthday ever! He got card bombed by my awesome Ravelry friends, he got some great gifts, and I made him his favorite meal (spaghetti) and our family favorite chocolate cake. Really! I did that! Mike was always the one who did the cooking and made the birthday cakes, but I pulled it off and it turned out great. It was a process for me, though. The meal and dessert ended up taking me about 4 hours because I had to take it slow and walk away for a few minutes at a time to regroup. Images just kept flashing through my head of Mike doing this exact same thing, and it was like being kicked in the gut again, over and over. I worked it out and made it through, and at the end of the evening I felt accomplished. Like...I took that huge step, and I came through it mostly undamaged. In fact, I came through it just a little bit stronger.
Yesterday was another first. Jack had to go see his ophthalmologist in Albuquerque. I initially asked Deby for a ride because I didn't feel I could do it alone. As most of you know, I'm scared to death of driving in Albuquerque, but it wasn't only that. I was nervous about the emotional part of this appointment. Mike was always the one who brought him to these appointments. It was kind of their thing they did together, and it was their special time...during the drive there and back, waiting in the office. The drive itself turned out to be no big deal. It's right by the hospital, and it was very easy for me to get to. The first problem was the emotions that started welling up as I got closer to the hospital. Those 6 weeks Mike was in there were a daily nightmare for me, and each day when I drove up there was torture...not knowing what that day was going to bring, not knowing what kind of battle I would be facing with the hospital, etc. I had this terrible knot in my stomach by the time we got there, and we just had to sit there in the car for a few minutes while I calmed down. After our usual long wait in the waiting room, we got called back. The first thing the nurse said to me was, "Oh, I'm not used to seeing you here. How's Mike?" She was horrified when I told her...that's usually not what you expect someone to say. She probably assumed he just had to work that day or something. She started crying and hugged both of us, and it took a few minutes to recompose. She was really sad and explained that she gets close to her patients and their families, and since we've been going to that same office for Austin since he was 6 years old, they know us all quite well. After we got through all that, Jack's exam went great, and his vision is holding steady (20/40 in his bad eye and 20/25 in his good eye) and doesn't need to go back for 6 months.
With those firsts out of the way, it's time to pick ourselves back up and keep trudging along. Overall, the boys are doing really well still. I'm finally starting to pull out of that super dark place and am able to see little tiny bits of light at the end of this. I don't spent 90% of my day crying anymore, and I actually smile more than I cry. I think I'm even going to tackle my bedroom this weekend. I feel ready to start putting Mike's stuff away. I'm going to donate his car next week and will be cleaning that out this weekend. I don't know how much I'll actually get done, but for the first time I feel ready to at least get started. Until now, I kept thinking I couldn't get rid of any of his stuff because he might need it someday. I know that doesn't sound rational, but I couldn't get the thought out of my head. I think I just needed to truly accept that he is gone and never coming back. I've always known it, but I hadn't actually accepted it as reality because it was just too painful. It's still painful, but I'm starting to feel like it's more painful looking at his stuff here exactly the way he left it. Hopefully I'll be able to post some great progress by next week.
Yesterday was another first. Jack had to go see his ophthalmologist in Albuquerque. I initially asked Deby for a ride because I didn't feel I could do it alone. As most of you know, I'm scared to death of driving in Albuquerque, but it wasn't only that. I was nervous about the emotional part of this appointment. Mike was always the one who brought him to these appointments. It was kind of their thing they did together, and it was their special time...during the drive there and back, waiting in the office. The drive itself turned out to be no big deal. It's right by the hospital, and it was very easy for me to get to. The first problem was the emotions that started welling up as I got closer to the hospital. Those 6 weeks Mike was in there were a daily nightmare for me, and each day when I drove up there was torture...not knowing what that day was going to bring, not knowing what kind of battle I would be facing with the hospital, etc. I had this terrible knot in my stomach by the time we got there, and we just had to sit there in the car for a few minutes while I calmed down. After our usual long wait in the waiting room, we got called back. The first thing the nurse said to me was, "Oh, I'm not used to seeing you here. How's Mike?" She was horrified when I told her...that's usually not what you expect someone to say. She probably assumed he just had to work that day or something. She started crying and hugged both of us, and it took a few minutes to recompose. She was really sad and explained that she gets close to her patients and their families, and since we've been going to that same office for Austin since he was 6 years old, they know us all quite well. After we got through all that, Jack's exam went great, and his vision is holding steady (20/40 in his bad eye and 20/25 in his good eye) and doesn't need to go back for 6 months.
With those firsts out of the way, it's time to pick ourselves back up and keep trudging along. Overall, the boys are doing really well still. I'm finally starting to pull out of that super dark place and am able to see little tiny bits of light at the end of this. I don't spent 90% of my day crying anymore, and I actually smile more than I cry. I think I'm even going to tackle my bedroom this weekend. I feel ready to start putting Mike's stuff away. I'm going to donate his car next week and will be cleaning that out this weekend. I don't know how much I'll actually get done, but for the first time I feel ready to at least get started. Until now, I kept thinking I couldn't get rid of any of his stuff because he might need it someday. I know that doesn't sound rational, but I couldn't get the thought out of my head. I think I just needed to truly accept that he is gone and never coming back. I've always known it, but I hadn't actually accepted it as reality because it was just too painful. It's still painful, but I'm starting to feel like it's more painful looking at his stuff here exactly the way he left it. Hopefully I'll be able to post some great progress by next week.