I think I may have mentioned my hypochondria before. (That’s a joke. Of course I have. If you don’t know I’m a hypochondriac then you really don’t know me at all.) In any case, my stomach started hurting two days ago and hasn’t stopped since. Last night, as I sat alone colouring this (for meditative purposes, of course) …
… I started feeling nauseous on top of everything else. Which started me thinking I was dying. Which made me wonder how my kids would cope if they lost both of us. I mean, who ever thought I would be a widow at 45? Who ever thought my kids would be “those kids” who lost their Dad as teenagers? Shit happens, apparently, and it appears as though there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it. So who can possibly know what life will be like next year, or even three months from now. It seems to be out of my control.
I made it up to my bedroom where Jaime was in my bed after crying herself to sleep for the 17th night in a row, and I lay down next to her trying not to throw up. You know that horrible, horrible feeling you get when your body can’t decide whether or not to purge itself? Thats where I was. For hours. And my stomach ached. And thats when it really hit me. Ben is gone.
Ben is really gone. He’s not teaching a course in Ottawa. He’s not at work. He’s really dead and apparently, he’s not coming back. Even though he was strong, and determined, and didn’t want to leave us. Even though he cried and said “I don’t want to die.” Even though he wrote emails with such optimism and determination, that I have had to delete because I can’t bear reading about how optimistic he was and knowing what the end result was. Even though he fought so hard and tried to do everything right. He’s still dead. And I couldn’t save him. And he suffered horribly for so long. And now I’m alone, which wouldn’t be so bad if I had been married to an asshole. But I wasn’t. I had Ben. The best of the best.
So now when I feel nauseous and want to throw up, there is no one to rub my back and tell me “Just breathe.” And when I’m scared I have something seriously wrong with me, which is always, there is no one to tell me “You are fine. There is nothing wrong. I promise.” Its just me, wondering why my stomach aches and wondering how I will survive. Wondering why I should survive when Ben deserved to survive so much more then anyone, and I didn’t save him. Because I feel like he would have saved me. He would have found a way where I did not.
And then I discovered that I am also angry at him. I’m so pissed that he didn’t tell me how to do our banking, or whether or not I should keep the truck that he loved so much, or what I should do when I feel like vomiting and he’s not there to rub my back and tell me it will be ok? I’m mad that he didn’t tell me how to cope with Jaime when she sobs herself to sleep every night. I’m mad that he didn’t tell me what to say to Raegan who won’t allow his ashes to be anywhere she can see them, and who doesn’t want to see his photograph, and who will not discuss him at all nor will she shed one tear. I’m mad that he didn’t tell me what to say to Zak who is just moving on, status quo. Tricking me into thinking he’s ok but I know that his day will come, and of course the risk of him falling back into addiction is ever present in my mind.
I’m mad that Ben didn’t have an honest discussion with his own father about the emotional pain he carried from that relationship, and left me to have to cope with the fallout from that all by myself. And the fallout has been horrible and mean and cruel at the worst time of my life when nothing is ok in my world. And Ben would be so mad, but he’s not here to deal with it. Just me.
I’m just angry. And that makes me even sadder.
Last night I had a dream that I was at his funeral all over again. I’m mad I have to re live that in my nightmares. I’m just so mad that he died. I’m so mad that he left me. And I feel so guilty for being angry at the gentlest man on earth. I’m mad that I’m not a stronger person, like he was.
Nancy came over and let me cry for a long time. And then Mario and Julie arrived.
But Ben is never coming back.