My overwhelming gratitude...

I would be remiss if at this time I didn't acknowledge the hundreds - possibly even thousands - of people in our lives who have shown their love and support for our family in these past few weeks. I honestly don't even know what to say other than I am overwhelmed with everything. We have gotten gift cards for groceries and meals and restaurants and stores. Donations to an online fund set up by some close friends, as well as to a bank fund set up by my in-laws - all to help support my kids. Cards. Jewelry. Letters - of grief, of support, of sorrow. Meals cooked for us, meals brought to us, food delivered to our doorstep. A hand made quilt from a church group in Nevada. Friends and family have simply told me they will take the kids and do fun things with them so that I can get things done, or have time to myself - no questions asked. You name it, I'm thankful for it. If it wasn't for the love and support of our friends, family, and community then this entire experience would be that much more unbearable. I cannot even imagine doing this alone or with little support. It has been needed, helpful, overwhelming, and amazing. I never in my life would have thought that I would be in this situation, and if you know me well then you know that asking for help is NOT my strong suit. Not by a long shot. I'm a *fairly* independent person who wants and needs to do things on her own and for herself. If Mike was here, he'd have a few stories about this side of me, I'm sure :) One thing is for certain, however, this kind of tragedy is not do-able on your own. This grief is not able to be navigated on my own. This life changing event is not manageable on my own. And it has taken me these 3+ weeks to realize that. To finally get it through my thick skull that I need everyone in my life. I need everyone around me to let me cry, to talk to me and have meaningful conversations with me, to help me with the kids, to cook meals, to help me with this transition into uncharted waters. Even when I don't want to ask. I need to. In these days when I feel as though I'm just barely keeping my head above water, and fighting like hell to stay afloat, I need everyone to keep me there so I don't drown.  So this is a huge and overdue thank you to everyone - even if it's just a note you sent me on facebook, or a card - anything. Everything. Thank you.

Some more thoughts today:
Mother's Day was Sunday. That was a hard day. I was lucky to spend most of it with my in-laws and my kids. It was my first holiday without him. We never did much for Mother's Day - it was more a get out of jail free card for me :) no bugging mom, just love her and Dad takes care of everything. This was the first holiday of many to come this year that I will be reminded, yet again, that he is in fact gone. It was so obvious there was something missing that day. It was so sharp, a knife in my heart. I felt the need to visit the site where he died (as I felt daily since April 20th). I've only been there a few times, mainly because I worry about bugging the people that live there, and also because most days it's too much to handle. But I went, and I am glad I did. I feel him when I am there. It's the last place he was when he was alive, and there's something special about that to me. But all in all, it was a good day. Despite missing him a bit extra that day, despite the kids driving me a little bit insane. It was a good day.
The next big date comes this Monday. It would have been our 7th anniversary. Scratch that - it IS our 7th anniversary. That date will always be our anniversary for the rest of my life, even if he's not here to celebrate it. I'll post about that one separately, because it may very well be the toughest day I will have of them all. 

From http://onefitwidow.com/how-to-help-the-grieving/
 This article has so many great things in it, I find it helpful to go through them and talk about them.
"Just because I look good does not mean that I feel good." - On the outside I think most days I look fine (minus some major dark circles under my eyes). But on the inside, I'm not OK. Not even close. I do a great job at appearing good, though. And I think that's important for a number of reasons - for my own sanity, for the sanity of those who are around me a lot (co-workers and family especially) and for the sanity of my children. Most days I'd be content to wrap myself up in a sweatshirt of Mike's and just stay in bed for the day. The very act of waking up (or going to sleep) is exhausting. 

"I am not strong. I’m just numb. When you tell me I am strong, I feel
that you don’t see me." - I appreciate people telling me how strong they think I am. In some ways it reminds me that I'm doing what I need to do to survive. Especially for my kids, who will not in any way benefit from having their one remaining parent curled up on the floor unable to function. So if not doing that is strong, then I guess I'm that. But I don't want people to think that I do not care about what happened or I'm not 'sad enough' or 'grieving enough'. I do believe that most of what appears to be 'strength' is in fact being 'numb'. When I speak about what's happened or what's going on, it's almost as if I'm a robot repeating facts most of the time. As a survival mechanism to deal with this entire situation, my mind is having to shut out a lot of emotion and feelings. Sometimes they come through, and when I let them fully show I'm usually in the quiet of my own home, after the kids have gone to sleep or right when I wake up in the morning, and I let it all out. That's where I'm most comfortable letting it out. But mostly I walk around with this numb feeling on a daily basis where I'm more or less in a daze - immune to the strong emotion of everything and protecting myself from going into a downward spiral. It's not strength (not that I don't think I'm strong - I think I am generally a strong person... again Mike would have many stories to insert here, I'm sure, haha!). My attitude and appearance is entirely due to the fact that I'm just starting to scratch the surface of what this experience all is for me, and I'm only letting myself go there so often. I'm not offended by it at all, and I appreciate that people think that highly of me... but I just don't think it's actually an accurate description of what I am right now.