Your Death is Killing Me: Weekend Blues

Friday, November 4, 2011

Weekend Blues

So I find myself dreading another weekend. No... not because I am a type A workaholic. Not I. But because weekends are the time that you go out with friends and family. It's Fall Festival, football game, snuggling with the one you love time of year. Only I know that I have no close friends to hang out with and being the 3rd wheel of my friends that are couples has grown tiresome.

Don't get me wrong. I love my baby girl. But if I hear one more story about who talked about who on Facebook or why life is cruel because Jenny said something mean to her best friend who then went and told Bobby that Jenny doesn't love Bobby anymore because he doesn't listen to the right kind of music and she is in love with Curt who doesn't even like girls yet because he's only twelve and cannot understand the complexities of teenagers. AAAGGGHHH!

Hanging with my 13 yr. old daughter is great. However, when she spends time with her friends, I find myself sitting in my car asking myself, "now what?". What do I do with myself? At first the free time was great! I had pedicures, went shopping, etc. But that quickly grew old as I realized I was doing all of those things ALONE. I need adult companionship. Not so much a date, but a friend. Someone who has things in common with myself. I have reached out to female friends, but I am not interested in going to bars or looking for men. I need a "friend". A FRIEND. Someone to talk to, to laugh with and to just be an adult with.

I need an adult conversation with an actual adult. Just once please. When I was married I spent my time with my husband and child. Occasionally other couples. No single friends. That has come back to bite me now.

What do you do to fill the void? How do you cope without your spouse during down times? Did you lose any friends when your spouse died?

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Bloggers Story

On April 16, 2010 while leaving work to join my family for our first camping trip of the season I was rear ended by a lady doing 45 mph, who never touched her brakes. I spent that weekend under a drug induced haze. On Sunday, my husband Jeff kissed me goodbye as I left the campground with my parents. I was going to ride home with them and borrow one of their cars to drive to work until I could establish a rental car. My daughter Lexi wanted to ride with me, but due to the lack of space had to ride home with her Dad. That was the last time I saw him alive.

Upon pulling into the driveway I noticed that Jeff wasn't home with the camper. He hadn't called and said he'd broken down or had a flat tire. This was not like him. Without hesitation, I circled around the driveway and started to retrace the route he would have driven. But there was something so instant about it. I KNEW something wasn't right.

The further I drove without seeing him, the more my heart raced and I felt as though I were hyperventilating. I called my parents. They hadn't heard from him. My Dad stated, "somethings wrong if you haven't heard from him". You see, my husband was as reliable and faithful as it gets. He's there when he says he'll be there.

I called his cell phone with no answer. The further I drove the worse the cell reception got. Then finally as I passed a Lutheran church, someone picked up his phone. Only it was a surgeon at a major hospital almost an hour away. He identified himself and told me that my husband was in a serious auto accident and that he was on his way to emergency surgery. The surgeon said to come quick, it didn't look good as his heart had stopped twice. I asked the surgeon where my daughter was. He exclaimed that he didn't know there was a child in the accident.

My heart was testing its physical limits at this point. Was she dead? Where was she? Why didn't he know about her?! I frantically drove on towards the direction of the campground, coming onto the wreck scene. I saw my husbands blue truck loaded onto a car hauler. The camper teetering on broken wheels and crushed like an accordian still in the road. I sped past the fire fighters who were yelling at me to slow down and on to the state trooper who was parked in the roadway. I pulled the car over, ran to the troopers window and beat on the glass. He looked at me as if he was wondering if I was on drugs or if this was an opportunity to taser someone. He rolled down his window as I explained who I was. He exited the car, leaving a man in the passenger seat. The trooper did his best to calm my fears. He said that my daughter had a minor injury to her foot and was at the local hospital. She was able to provide him with all of the info. he had on his clipboard as further confirmation that she was fine.

The trooper explained that the man in his passenger seat was the other driver and he had driven his truck across the center line, hit my husbands truck head-on, drove up and over the cab of the truck and then fell off onto its side. I leaned into the troopers car and asked the man if he was okay. Upon his response of "yes ma'am", I replied, peace be with you. I don't know why I showed mercy at that point. I think that will always puzzle me. Maybe it was due to the relief of my daughter being okay.

I'll share in a later post what transpired at my husband's passing. But to summarize, my daughter suffered damage to her leg from the dashboard being pushed down, pinning her in. She healed in time.

My husband had the engine, dashboard and steering wheel shoved into his torso. His leg was broken. His forehead was bleeding. When they removed him from the wreckage, it took the pressure off of his chest which caused him to hemorrhage. He was bleeding from so many places internally that they couldn't find the source. Therefore, unable to stop the bleeding.

Your Death is Killing Me

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Friday, November 4, 2011

Weekend Blues

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