Gavin had his annual doctor's physical this morning. Our little boy is growing up.... Watching him there made me flash back to that first checkup, days after being released from the hospital. My Dr. mentioned it too. She says she still remembers him... Kurt took time off work to be there. He was so proud. He loved that little boy as much as he loved me – if not more. I have to keep reminding myself that all three of us are lucky to have had that kind of love.
Its only now, as I think back on it - on all that was - that I let myself cry those few tears that have been hanging around all day. But across those tear-streaked cheeks, there is also a hint of a smile. It was such a good time back then...
Happy and sad at the same time. Smiling through the tears. This, I suppose, is the face of progress...
So many people have talked to me about finding a “new normal.” It will come, they said. With time.
I guess that’s what this is. Or at least one form of it. Because I think your normal is always changing to some degree, in some way. And that is normal too, dead husband or not...
In my new normal, I’m constantly learning that I can do things on my own. I don’t always want to. But as I raked the lawn and prepared the air conditioning unit for the onset of winter, it hit me how often I do “Kurt’s jobs” without even thinking about it. Little things like mowing the lawn, using the power tools, tightening a door hinge, changing a furnace filter, opening the toolbox, or taking the car for a carwash. Because they have to be done... because someone needs to do them. Its “normal” that that someone falls to me.
I’m used to the life we have now. Even the tears, the flashbacks, the noises, and the nightmares are normal. The anxiety attacks, though still not expected, are not as foreign as they once were. I can sense them coming. I know the signs. They are normal too.
I know I’ll probably cry a few tears before bed. Might even cry myself to sleep. The hurt is normal. The pain is normal. The sadness is normal. Its not a good normal. Its not the normal I ever wanted or imagined for any of us. Its a rather dreary and depressing normal, really. But it is what it is. And like it or hate it, it is our life.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t like this. Don’t want it. Still don’t really accept it. But that’s all normal too. You get used to the monkey on your back when he is there 24-7 for over two years. Some moments, you almost forget he’s there at all. It’s those moments, actually, that now seem out of place...
And so its normal that I take Gavin to everything alone. Share our events, our milestones, with no one. And that something as simple as a Dr’s office can make me think of Kurt, and cry.
I suppose I should take comfort in the fact that this is normal. Which in some way makes me normal.
But I’d throw all that normalcy away if he would one minute walk back through the door. Which, I guess is normal too......
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