Cookies

[Epope]

I went to the store last night to go grocery shopping - something that was always Derek's job since he was the cook and planned everything - and I was feeling ok with it. And then I turned to move out of the way for someone near the bakery and saw this ridiculous cookie he'd always eat. It's literally two giant cookies, and in the middle is a glob of pink, blue, or green frosting with two frosting eyes. It's called a "cookie monster". Looking at those cookies was like biting down on a broken tooth. It was a shrill pain. I kind of lost my footing emotionally and physically over a cookie. I guess it's not just a cookie - it's all the memories of him eating those stupid things and 20 minutes later telling me his stomach hurt. And it's the fact I'll never see him eat that cookie again. I hate that forever, I'll have to live my life without him, and I'll always have these moments of pause where I realize what I've lost. I try to stay positive and change my perception about loss - and how I do truly believe we get to still have a relationship with that person who has left - just in a very different way. But some moments it's like I've been sucker punched and all the oxygen and life gets sucked out of me. It's made me so exhausted that it's hard to sleep unless i've physically worn myself out with exercise. My stomach is constantly in knots and it's such a bitter laugh that comes out of me because the worst has happened. I've forgotten what my face looks like with my once usual makeup.  My mind is so busy that my short term memory is compete crap. I've never really hated anything in my life, but I truly hate this feeling. I hate that Derek died. I get so angry I want to break something just to hear it break, or scream just to feel that bite in the back of my throat. I hate that I come to this forum because I'd rather type than hear my own voice say these words. 

[KayC]

I'm sorry...yes I get it, our grief is made up of "cookie moments".  I had many such moments. 

[LeannC45]

 I don't like all of the trigger moments that pop up out of the blue. I have a bag of frozen meatballs in my freezer that my husband wanted me to make for Christmas. Some special meatballs that he swore up and down were so delicious. We hosted last year and I always cook everything from scratch and usually end up prepping for days before hand. I told my husband no I couldn't make them because I already had too many things on the menu and now those meatballs sit in my freezer and every time I think about telling him no I feel guilt. I refuse to throw them away because somehow those meatballs represent my husband. I know it sounds silly but it's true. You can't even begin to fathom all the ways your life changes when you lose your spouse. I still sleep on my side of the bed, I have tried scooting to the middle but it never feels right and I scoot back to my side. I have some of my husbands belongings on the night stand by his side of the bed. His glasses, his favorite hat and his ashes. I know it looks like a small shrine to him but I don't care it brings me comfort. God bless us all on this excruciating journey.

[Epope]

I have refused to throw away many things that I feel represent Derek. I sleep on his side of the bed. I wear some of his clothes. His shoes...I cannot stand to see them anywhere but in our wardrobe. He wore a suit to work for 5 years, and just a week before he passed, he quit and as about to start a new job that he was excited about. All of his suits one day disappeared from our wardrobe, leaving his side almost bare. He put them in the upstairs closet, away and out of site, almost as if he knew there wasn't going to be a way for me to clear out his clothes in a week's time. The medicine cabinet above the sink in the bathroom is still home to his shaving creams and gels, combs and hair clay, and of course his toothbrush. On sad days, I wear his deodorant. His name was on the title of our car, so I had to find the stupid card with his name on it and the account number to pay of the remaining balance on it. His signature was at the bottom and I stared at it for a good five seconds before I fell through the trap door of grief. It hit me hard seeing his signature and I don't know why. Still looking at his signature, his handwriting...I lose it. 

I know he wants his ashes spread in a very specific place, and when I'm ready, I'll do that. But I have a special wooden box with the tree of life carved on it that i have placed his ashes in. Inside are petals of flowers that have fallen from the many plants in my home, or from a garden i started. There are healing crystals inside, even though he doesn't need any healing. There is also a rock I took on a hike the other week. Many plants surround the box, and other healing stones, buddhas, candles, photographs, and little things that promote peace. I visit his shrine every morning with incense and sometimes a new flower to place nearby. It makes me feel like I can still take care of him in some way. 

[Just here]

Yes I think we all have these moments. His cologne.. When Ed first passed my daughter dropped his bottle of cologne it broke I got mad and screamed at her. I cried for hours over it and now smell it at every store will probably end up buying a new bottle just to smell him probably seems silly. But I catch myself all the time crying over songs, food, and random things. When we first started living together he would write me notes in my lunch at work. I still have them and read them all the time then cry. I guess it’s the little things that matter in life and the memories we will keep with us for the rest of our lives. 

[LeannC45]

15 hours ago, Epope said:

I have refused to throw away many things that I feel represent Derek. I sleep on his side of the bed. I wear some of his clothes. His shoes...I cannot stand to see them anywhere but in our wardrobe. He wore a suit to work for 5 years, and just a week before he passed, he quit and as about to start a new job that he was excited about. All of his suits one day disappeared from our wardrobe, leaving his side almost bare. He put them in the upstairs closet, away and out of site, almost as if he knew there wasn't going to be a way for me to clear out his clothes in a week's time. The medicine cabinet above the sink in the bathroom is still home to his shaving creams and gels, combs and hair clay, and of course his toothbrush. On sad days, I wear his deodorant. His name was on the title of our car, so I had to find the stupid card with his name on it and the account number to pay of the remaining balance on it. His signature was at the bottom and I stared at it for a good five seconds before I fell through the trap door of grief. It hit me hard seeing his signature and I don't know why. Still looking at his signature, his handwriting...I lose it. 

I know he wants his ashes spread in a very specific place, and when I'm ready, I'll do that. But I have a special wooden box with the tree of life carved on it that i have placed his ashes in. Inside are petals of flowers that have fallen from the many plants in my home, or from a garden i started. There are healing crystals inside, even though he doesn't need any healing. There is also a rock I took on a hike the other week. Many plants surround the box, and other healing stones, buddhas, candles, photographs, and little things that promote peace. I visit his shrine every morning with incense and sometimes a new flower to place nearby. It makes me feel like I can still take care of him in some way. 

Yes, I feel very emotional when I look at my husbands handwriting. I keep his drivers license in my wallet just to have a part of him with me every where I go.

[KayC]

2 hours ago, LeannC45 said:

I keep his drivers license in my wallet just to have a part of him with me every where I go.

Me too.  I heard it is against the law to carry someone else's driver's license.  Just LET them try to get me a hard time about it!  They'd find a rage they've never encountered the likes of!  I have yet to have a policeman go through my wallet though.

[Sunflower2]

10 hours ago, LeannC45 said:

Yes, I feel very emotional when I look at my husbands handwriting. I keep his drivers license in my wallet just to have a part of him with me every where I go.

I carry a small container of his ashes in the car with me. he was the navigator now I'm navigating all the long distance driving and he's my co-plot!!!

[LeannC45]

14 hours ago, Sunflower2 said:

I carry a small container of his ashes in the car with me. he was the navigator now I'm navigating all the long distance driving and he's my co-plot!!!

I like that. Yes, my husband could go somewhere one time and remember the way back. I am a totally different story I can sit on the passenger side and go to the same place 10 times and not know how to get there. LOL...Something I hate but I never had to worry because my husband did all the driving. Just another challenge I have to face with my husband gone.

[KayC]

My husband loved driving, me...it's just a way to get from point A to point B.  I appreciate the GPS my son bought me!  

[Sunflower2]

1 hour ago, LeannC45 said:

I am a totally different story I can sit on the passenger side and go to the same place 10 times and not know how to get there. LOL...Something I hate but I never had to worry because my husband did all the driving. Just another challenge I have to face with my husband gone.

 exactly!!! it is another major challenge.  I was the same.  It's amazing though that I do feel his energy when I hit the xway to get downtown. maybe it's those ashes.....:)  haven't attempted the GPS yet.