Not Enough of Me

We are one month away from the 4 year anniversary of Matt's passing. I can feel it coming. The weather has changed, football season started, and Olivia is in kindergarten! One of the many things that frustrates me about grief is how much of my time is spent being mindful. I am constantly assessing my feelings and situations and asking myself "do I feel this way because of my grief or would I feel this way even if Matt were alive?"

Yesterday morning I was trying to get ready to go to the gym. As I was changing and brushing my teeth, Rylan was eating breakfast and Olivia was getting dressed. Within a 10-minute time span, I must've heard "mom" 1,000 times. Ok, that's an exaggeration but it was a lot. Rylan ran into the bathroom needing to poop and help wiping his butt, Olivia was in the other bathroom and had clogged the toilet, and I ran room to room partially dressed and praying no one rang the doorbell. My frustration quickly rose because there simply wasn't enough of me to go around. I don't have a spouse here to divide and conquer. I don't have the option to say "I'm leaving for the gym." Every minute away from my kids requires preplanning and arranging in order to make it happen. I kept thinking to myself how Saturdays with Matt around wouldn't be like this. I would be able to ask for help or even just leave if I needed a break.

These are times when I am trying so hard to not feel sorry for myself. I practice the tools I've acquired through therapy and I see the blessings in my life. But man, single parenting mixed with the grief of my husband is exhausting.

I never processed the selling of our house in Graham. It is the one area of losing Matt that I don't want to face. I can't stomach knowing someone else is living in our home, enjoying our deck, and creating memories in a place I cherish. But I also remind myself how often Matt and I talked about moving. About how the commute was wearing on him and how even if he were alive, we likely wouldn't be living there anymore. Since Olivia has started kindergarten, I am more at peace with where we live than ever before. I love that we can walk to school. I am grateful each day for the time outside. I also love the friendships we are growing with our neighbors across the street. God knew what He was doing when placing our families in this neighborhood.

I have tried for the last four years to make fall my favorite season again. But try as I might, this time of year just triggers so many painful memories. I think of all my "lasts" with Matt...our last family vacation, our last Seahawks game together, the last walk we took, the last date we went on. In years past, I loved pulling out my fall decorations. But now, I know opening my boxes also means opening my heart to pain. The day before Matt went to the hospital, I got our house ready for fall. Each pumpkin in that box now reminds me of that day. A totally normal Saturday with no inclination that a day later my life would drastically change forever. And even though I have accumulated new stuff, it still brings pain.

After 4 years without him, I should know what to expect during this next month. I should be aware of what will trigger me or what will be difficult. But the thing with grief is that it is so unexpected. It comes out of nowhere and so suddenly. It comes when I'm least expecting it and without warning. The only thing I can be sure of is that I need to allow myself extra time for sleep, I need to be more patient with myself and with my kids, and I need to allow myself to feel all of it.