Am I Expecting Too Much?
by Pat J
(Lake Villa, IL)
Grandson Jacob feeding grandpa after his LVAD surgery
It's 6 weeks today for me. December 3, 2010 was the worst day of my life. When the doctor came out and said, "I'm sorry there is nothing more we can do," I feel like my life ended too. My 10 year old grandson was with my daughter and I when my husband passed. He sobbed and said, "Doctor isn't there anything you can do for my grandpa? We love him."
I sit here today feeling like I'm stuck. I posted the day after Christmas all the things I thought I should be feeling~how I should count the blessings that remain in my life, be optimistic, be thankful for the time we had together. It sounded good at the time. I look back on what I posted and I'm now wondering where those feelings even came from. I haven't felt that way since. The days are long and lonely.
Everyone keeps asking me if I have family and friend support. Yes I do. It doesn't even begin to make up for my husband not being here. They can't be with me in my bed at night when I ache to hear the sound of his voice. They aren't here in the morning when I wake up and it's actually a full minute before I remember and that sick feeling hits me right in the gut. They don't look at me with that, "I know exactly what you're thinking" look.
I'm trying~I really am. I'm into my third book on grief support about what to expect over the next year. I know the stages. I know about the roller coaster. I know I have to live through this to get to the other side. I journal, I write to my husband, I've met 3 women on another grief web site that I email (and they me) several times a week. I've talked to them on the phone. I'm networking with people who understand because they're going through the same thing.
I feel like I'm doing what I should but nothing is really helping right now. I pray daily for strength. I know God will answer my prayers, eventually. Am I expecting too much at this point? Being too impatient? I'm stuck in a dark lonely place and I'm feeling nothing but sorry for myself at this point. One breath, One step is even difficult for me today.