Friday, August 28, 2009

5pm comes everyday.

Today we had a good day. The sun was out and it was rather lovely outside. The kids played in the sand and on the swings whilst I hung washing on the line. We played on the floor and read some books and for the most part everything felt normal.

Suddenly my mood changed. It wasn't conscience, I didn't want it too, but I knew without looking at the clock that it must be nearly 5 o'clock. 4:51pm. My body knew. The normality of the day fooled me into thinking that in about 10 minutes he would be home.

For a moment I forgot. How? How do you forget something so profound? Why is it that I just cannot fully wrap my head around death? I just don't understand.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Single Mum

I hate that term. I hate being called single and couple that with mum, which by definition implies there should be a dad, it leaves me feeling sick in the stomach. Love it or loath it though, that is what I am. I hate it.

Grieve aside this parenting 3 babies all on my own is insane. Even when we have no major emotional issues to deal with the days are long and hard. Take today as an example.

I was woken at 6:30am (after only falling asleep a mere 5.5 hours before) and while I tried to ignore the calls for breakfast, by 7:15am I was standing in the kitchen with 3 breakfast bowls lined up. Following breakfast we spend a quiet morning at home with me only getting out of my PJ's at about 10:30am. Let me however define 'quiet': cleaned up kitchen, dressed kids, changed 2 smelly nappies, broke up 3 fights, put a load of laundry on, checked emails, payed some bills and made 3 coffees. By 11 we were all dressed and I spend about an hour with the kids doing some pre-kindy workbooks and building puzzles.
Following lunch we watched a little TV and then I found it...head lice!! Anja with the worlds curliest hair had some crawly things on her head and they were not welcome. So I spend 2 hours carefully removing any hints of insects before setting of to town to buy a few groceries and of course head lice lotion (For the record, this is surely one of the worlds most degrading and embarrassing moments).
Once home I lathered the kids' hair, combed and searched, stripped bedding and remade beds. Dinner was ordinary, but the kids are in bed with full tummies.

I am done, tired and ready for bed. But I still have laundry to fold, school bags to pack and a truck load to toys to put away.

I will get to that, I will, really. Just as soon as I have this cup of tea.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Reality hits

This grieving thing is strange. In the weeks following the accident I often thought that instead of feeling all the emotions one would imagine feeling when your husband dies, I was feeling nothing. No, not nothing, but not anything like I imagined one would. The funeral was difficult, but in the hours that followed I felt weirdly relieved. Days would pass without any tears and while I constantly thought about Jouke and my loss I was able to completely distance myself from the reality, the gravity of the truth.

There were moments that things got rough. 5pm on a Wednesday still is one of the most difficult hours of the week - the day and time of the accident. Going to bed is difficult. I remember about 4 days after the accident having a panic attack because I couldn't figure out how to get into bed, alone. Seeing his work ute (isn't still driving around town) or any electricians working makes me anxious.

The last 3 weeks however, all the emotions I imagined one would feel in a situation like this has come to the surface. Instead of coming at specific, predictable times they now hang around constantly. I am sad all the time. I am feeling the loss constantly. I started crying. Today I was on my way to work and had trouble stopping. Tears are streaming down my face as I order a coffee (an attempt to calm myself) and I am sure the girl behind the counter was very uncomfortable.

Talking to others who know grief this seems to be normal. Shock has worn off, reality has set in. I expected it, but I am completely taken by surprise. I am trying hard not to fight it. Trying to just feel. Hoping that by facing all this head on, that I might come through quicker. I don't expect that I will ever "get over" this. I am changed forever. I'm just hoping for a better week.

Blog title

I was thinking about changing my blog name tonight. As you may have noticed I have changed everything else as I am feeling the need to make things different, to somehow signal this gigantic change that has happened in our lives.

But no, I'm not going to. Because mamma made it: through today, this minute, this week, the last 5 months. I am surviving. I am figuring out a way to make it through. Mamma made it. Slowly. Carefullly. Somehow I will make it through. Not because I am strong, but because Christ is strong. He is carrying me. And because of my babies.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Our days

It is nearly 6 months since we last saw Jouke. Its hard to believe. It only feels like yesterday, but then it also feels like a lifetime ago.
So much has changed. I have moved furniture around in the house and added some new pieces. My bed was the first to be moved. I turned it to face the other wall and added new bedding. It is still not easy to go to bed alone, but at least now it feels a little different, a little more possible. I moved the blue lounge out of the front room. It holds too many memories and at least now we can use that room again.

Our days are very different too. In order to cope we are keeping busy. Staying home all day is just too hard so I make sure that we go somewhere at least once a day. Our days are filled with people and while it can be exhausting I really don't know how else to cope right now.

I suppose though the biggest change is in our faces. We smile less. I try, for the kids' sake, but its just too hard some days. Our eyes are different too. My own eyes I hardly recognise and those of my children scare me sometimes.

Anja was very sad yesterday. When I asked her what was wrong she said that she missed me. "I miss you, I miss you and pappa." It breaks my heart. No kid should have to deal with that. I pray that in months to come I will be able to be more available to my children. Pray with me.