The Halfway House

Ok so last week was my release from the hospital and I found out this week I am not totally free yet, I am in a halfway house. Go figure. God what is up with this? I believed I was free and moving on and this weekend, just one weekend beyond my resurrection I find myself knocked over by a serious rogue wave.

I had been looking forward to this weekend for quite some time, I was supposed to be camping with my daughter and a friend of hers who will be graduating and moving back north next month. We wanted to have a nice girl’s weekend camping and talking which is what we all do best anyway. My first clue things had gone sideways was the rain predicted for Saturday calling off the camping part of our trip. We decided to stay at Mary's since the whole purpose was to get together anyway so camping  (indoors) was still on.My second clue this weekend was turning was my having to stop off to pay my respects to a family friend (younger than me) whose wife passed away from cancer. Now you might remember this was not my first funeral since, but it did involve someone special to our family. I went in strong, thinking I could offer condolences and support and figuring I had this covered but I should not have gone in alone probably.

Things were fine at first as we chatted with another friend and his wife offering their support and laughing about times past.  It was when our friend started talking about not sleeping and finally sleeping in the bed and other things that my knees started to give way. My legs started to shake and then my head started spinning. I felt like a deer in headlights and I had to run, get as far away as possible so this would not become about me. I said my good byes, and think I told him it was still too fresh for me so maybe he understood why I was there so brief a time, but I had to get out of there quick. I know he won’t remember so maybe that will be a saving grace.

The floodgates burst as soon as I closed my car door, and I was safe and I allowed the bomb of tears to explode in a protected area. The drive to Mobile started off awful as well. I got stuck in a traffic jam just as I got onto the interstate to head to Mobile. Everything in me wanted to go faster and run, but I had to creep at a snail’s pace and couldn’t run at all. I had to deal with it all ever so slowly in the confines of my car and I was feeling very claustrophobic. I wanted to be outside, screaming, outside running or outside hitting on something. I was having a temper tantrum and perhaps a panic attack. I did talk on the phone to my sister for part of it but mostly I had to deal with it. No one could really talk it through with me, it was something I had to do alone. With loud music might I add.

Finally the traffic broke after 45 minutes and I could drive faster towards my very energetic funny daughter. I was looking forward to the distraction of her love and joy again. I got to her house and could only take a nap, I was worn out, but she was sweet and allowed me the time to get it together so we could go out and have fun. She did take a picture of me power napping and usually I am very alert, but didn’t hear that coming. I fell into a quick deep sleep. We went to pick up Mary’s friend Marge, and while there I got a call from Steve’s truck driver friend who I had dinner with a few months back. He was coming through Slidell and wanted to see me, but I told him where I was and he said well that is where I am spending the night so we arranged to pick him up and bring him out to dinner with us. It was all fun and the bum picked up our tab. I say bum because I informed him I would be doing it this time, and he said no because Steve never allowed him to buy dinner for him, so he was paying Steve back for all those times. I was glad Mary got to see him and thank him for getting the rest of Steve’s things back for her. He is the friend who got the blanket and special shirt she wanted back for her and he took a lot of time and trouble to make sure we got those things back.  

All throughout the night we reminisced about Steve and the silly things Steve did with each of us with each girl recounting different memories of Mr. Steve. As much as I loved that they had such fond memories it became such an in my face weekend about dealing with grief again. If I were truly in a halfway house I guess it would be considered a therapy session. It was not the fun care free weekend I wanted, but it was the work weekend I may have needed? What I did learn this weekend is that I am only half way in my process and I thought I was further on. It really feels like I am further along than a year and a half doesn't it? It has been such a long time since I have missed Steve this bad and it hurts. The anesthesia of shock and grief is wearing off perhaps and I am feeling again yes feeling like pins and needles. I was walking along, enjoying the sunshine and a hole swallowed me up. I can see the sun, but the work I need to do to get out of this hole is exhausting me. I need help, Lord, your help please??? You got my back right, let’s get this over again. Sigh.