Tuesday, February 19, 2008

...funny how you can go for years without bad things happening to you

Today, my husband was finally laid to rest. It's been a month, and I...couldn't let go. I found myself sitting in the dark talking, y'know--just talking. Like someone was going to answer me. I bought a bag, because I didn't like the urn. Black and red for Valentine's Day.

My planned hand-carry fell though, because I couldn't. Every day I grew darker until my living room felt like this gigantic cloud. People told me, "it gets better", or "one day you'll wake up and it won't hurt so much." But to me, it's an enormous Jack-sized hole, where I'll be doing something, and turn around to laugh, or make a snarky comment, and there's this emptiness. No one buys me stargazer lilies anymore. I hate'em and always will--but they were big and showy, like the hearts I always got on Valentine's Day. The largest pink, lace-bedecked psuedo-velvet pinnacle of drugstore kitsch available at the 24 hour Wahlgreens.

I shipped him instead, and was promptly sick to my stomach. Worry,fear, utter screaming panic when the delivery date fell on a Federal holiday. Luckily, they noticed and attempted delivery the next day. I called every ten minutes.

It's out of my hands. And in a way I'm glad. My cloud is growing lighter, and I'm focused again. I can think.

However, I might need some vitamins.


Alice Audrey said...


When my grandfather died I spent a lot of time talking to myself. I was a teanager on top of a haystack yelling at the sunset, and it was only a grandfather, not a husband, but I have an idea of how you feel.

Miss Mae said...

Is this Jodi? I think you came to my blog today (Miss Mae).

I'm so sorry, I didn't know about your husband. May I extend my most heartfelt sympathy.

aka Miss Mae

Miss Mae said...

Jodi, are you published with Wild Rose? I can't recall seeing you on the loops...


Kaige said...


btw: I just reread all of your archives since the beginning. Good stuff there, thanks for writing your thoughts down on all this writery stuff!

Unhinged said...

One breath at a time, one step at a time, one day at a time. And no more than that.

As hard as it was to do the last release (and I thought of you on Valentine's Day...but I've been sparing a thought for you and yours every day), um, what was I saying? Dang, this is one of my worst habits as a writer.

As hard as it was to do the last part of letting go, I think that should mean the dark cloud will more often lose out to the sun. It'll still be there for a long while, but so's the sun.

{{{Noodle Girl & Family}}}

Lauren Murphy said...

*hugs* I'm glad to hear that the dark cloud is getting lighter. I can't imagine how you feel. But here are some more hugs. *hugs* Hopefully they will help to lighten the clouds a little more.

Gwen Hayes said...

I keep staring at this stupid box trying to think of the right thing to say. There isn't anything. I'm sorry. My heart hurts every time I think of what you are going through.

A wise woman once told me, "It's okay to be a nightlight." I can't outshine your darkness for you, but I'll be a steady glow while you look for the sun.

Jeanna said...

Sending you a big chocolate cyber kiss, hon'.

jodi said...

thank you, sometimes it's hard to come here to my blog--sometimes when you write too much, reveal too much. It just hurts.

((((hugs everyone back)))

Miss Mae said...

I left you a big pan of brownies at my blog...but on one condition!...LOL..


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