Hitting a rough patch

Today’s been hard, and I haven’t been able to put my finger on why.  Is it because we spent our first Super Bowl without him yesterday, surrounded by friends?  Is it because I’ve spent the better part of the day going through boxes of pictures?  I’ve been looking for shots showing how great he was with kids, putting on fishing events, contributing to community, presenting papers at national conferences.  Is it just because it’s Monday?

This is one of the days my counselor warned me about.  It’s a day where I feel like I’ve slipped off the paved trail, and I’m trudging through the mud and goo.  Every step is hard.  I don’t like it here.  But it’s where I am, at least for today.

I think my mood is due to two occurrences:

1) Ben had a rough night.  In my quest to make bedtime more peaceful, I programmed some songs from my iPod to lull us to sleep.  Not my best idea.  After the soothing Beatles tune, “Good Night” from the White Album, “God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys began.  Ben starts crying.  The song reminds him of his dad.  I got up and turned it off as quickly as possible, but the damage was done.  He had a rough night, and informed me the song has been going through his mind all day.  Strange how something can trigger a flood of emotions when you least expect it.

 2) the probate of Mark’s will happens tomorrow—-BINGO!  This is what’s bothering me.  This is what has me so overwrought with emotion.  Even though I know full well that he’s gone, standing before a judge in a Texas courtroom tomorrow at 1:15 pm, under oath, I will proclaim to one and all that my husband is dead.  His will becomes public record.  I am the sole heir to his belongings, to our Kansas pasture land and pond, to our home here in Texas.  After this, I change the titles of both vehicles to my name…you see, once we had the boys, I let him handle the vehicle purchases without me…hence, they are both in his name only.  Whenever we drew up our will 4 years ago, it was because we were leaving the boys with grandmas while we took our one and only trip without them–I never in my wildest dreams imagined I’d be probating it so soon.

My God, I miss him.  I miss everything about him.  He would’ve been whooping and hollerin’ at that close football game yesterday.   I look at the clock everyday, around 5:15 to 5:18, the time he’d roll into our driveway, full of energy and happy as a clam to be at home with his two boys and me.

I dissolve into tears at the dinner table.  My boys try to comfort me.  They are so sweet.. “God only knows what I’d be without them.” I certainly don’t want to find out.  I go to the refrigerator, and take out the last Torpedo pale ale…pour it into one of his Boulevard pint glasses and drink it in his honor.

Life is good, but today it sucks.