What is that sound?

When I was about 26 weeks pregnant with Griffin, we had taken a family vacation to the beach in June.  My feet were ridiculously swollen and I spent most of the time on the actual beachfront with my feet propped up on make-shift stools the kids built for me out of sand.  I also spent a lot time trying to keep the beached whale from getting sunburned (me and my enormous, swollen feet).  On the fourth day it was suggested that I treat myself to a pedicure and some air conditioned comfort.  I booked the appointment for 1pm and headed off to the fancy salon, waddling the whole way.  (I'm telling you, when I was pregnant, those feet were BAD.  Ask anybody).  I was exhausted, and the women in the salon could tell.  They propped me up in their VERY relaxing and cushioned throne and said "let us handle the rest".

Now, I have been for many pedicures.  I have been very exhausted.  I have been almost very pregnant in the summertime too.  But, this particular moment found me doing all three at once and we had just moved into a house we were renovating to boot, so, I would say I was plum wore out.  Regardless, they began to pamper my tootsies and my ever expanding calves.  The air was cool, the chair was at just the right angle, I was actually comfortable in all of my hugeness.  I closed my eyes.  My mind wandered.  I thought about names for this yet to arrive bundle of love.  I was in the place of aware but not aware.  I had no idea how much time had lapsed.  As I leaned on the cool, faux leather seat, I heard a noise.  Not enough to make me open my eyes, and oh I did not want to, as they were soooo heavy.  Then I heard it again.  And again.  It was rhythmic.  What is that sound? was all I could think in my stupor...Where is it coming from?  Is it coming from me? It couldn't possibly be coming from me, could it? What the hell?  HOLY CRAP!  I'M SNORING! IN PUBLIC!  DURING A 65 DOLLAR PEDICURE!  I jolted up in my seat.  All I could think was, thank God these people don't know me.  Then, I was unbelievably embarrassed.  If my face weren't already sunburnt (yah, I failed at that attempt) it would have been as red as, well, as red as the reddest thing you've ever seen. 

That was the last time I heard an unrecognizable sound come out of me, until today. 

This week, two monumental things happen in my life.  The 25th of March marks the 1st anniversary of the passing of my sweet Griffin.  It also, unfortunately, is the day the man I married almost 15 years ago leaves my everyday life.  Why these two events have to be linked, I still don't understand.  I don't know that I ever will.  And, I still grieve.  I have been told, by some very wise women, that the anticipation of the date is what bites you in the ass.  I have come to realize how right they are.  While the 25th of March will be marked on my heart for all of my life, I do not grieve that Griffin is no longer of our earthly confines.  I know he is so much better off where he is.  He is no longer in pain.  He can eat those cheerios I longed to give him.  What pains me is how much I miss him and his smile.  His sweet disposition and his chattering.  I don't miss his love, because I still receive it.  I don't wish him back to us, because he is forever a part of me.  I am his mother. Always.

Which brings me to the latter event.  I realized, and I don't know that a lot of people understand this part, I am overwhelmed with grief for the loss of a life I thought I had.  It's been creeping up on me since last month...I feel like I am losing my husband all over again.  He's leaving the state.  The man that I promised I would love and cherish, in sickness and in health, through all of life's trials and tribulations is no longer an integral part of MY life.  I've lost that safe place to fall.  He's gone.  How do you just stop being a part of someone's daily ritual after doing it for 15 years straight?  I know he's been out of the house since May of last year.  I know I've figured out how to manage the day to day by myself.  But, it's final,  I'm not a wife anymore.  Not on paper yet, but definitely not to him now.  I thought I always would be.  He looks me in the eyes and tells me how sorry he is that he has and continues to cause me so much pain.

Which brings me to today's noise.  I found myself telling him I couldn't let him go, because if I do, I'm a failure.  All the promises I made, vanish.  My fix it self can't find a way to fix this, for all of us, and that is what I do and I can't. I feel like I can't look my kids in the eyes because I lied to them.  I told them mommy and daddy would always be together.  But most of all, I feel I failed him if I let him go.  I swore to him I would love and cherish him for the rest of my life, for better or worse. That is what I signed up for.

He, of course, had to leave at this point.

I was crying.  Sobbing.  I took myself to a quiet spot on the front porch and watched him drive away.  I continued to cry.  And then there was a noise.  One I'd never heard before.  When I realized it was coming from me, the only way I can describe it is pain.  A gut wrenching sob that comes from a place somewhere deep in your soul. If pain had a sound, that was it.  I heard it repeatedly.

I would venture to guess that those wise women I mentioned earlier know that sound, and how deafening it is when it comes from within you.  I hope those of you that read this never have to know this particular sound.  I find myself a part of an elite club, to which entry is not something you want to gain.  This week I am a mother who lost a beloved child and although it pales in comparison, a wife losing her husband.  They are both what is going on inside my head and heart.  It's a lot for one person and likely to cause strange noises.

I am doing my best to remain upright, positive and be Pollyanna.  However, I'm allowed to be sad.  I'm allowed to grieve.  I have a lot that I have lost but  I also know I still have a lot.  Much more than most.  I don't begrudge that.  But, this week, please, let me be sad.  Let me set down a little bit of my pack and rest for a bit.  It's been a long year since all of this started.  A long, long year.  A journey that only I can travel.  Only I have been given.  At some point, I hope to find the gifts it has brought to me, but right now, I'm going to let the pain stick around for a bit, so I can give it the attention it's craving so it will go away. I promise, I won't let it take root, but I might have to make some strange noises in the interim. I will have to find a way to let go of him.  Let go of the life that I thought I was going to have.  May not be this week, but I will.

Honestly, though, I know I'm just making room for the joy that is just around the bend, but now, today, this week, I grieve.

This is me.

I'm an intelligent, strong, independent, well-educated, relatively stable, tall, 40 pounds lighter woman with killer blue eyes. I tend to feel the need to be in charge.  I like to plan and organize everything.  I probably talk too much, I like to gossip, and I admit this freely.  I can do calculus, the laundry and make a mean pot of chili.  I like to collect kitchen tools and have recently discovered my need to collect really fabulous girl shoes, mostly of the higher the heel the better variety.  I watch tv whenever I have the opportunity and have a handful of shows that I must see for my week to be complete.  I have a knack for quoting movies, especially those that I repeatedly watched as a child/teen and I tend to always have a movie to relate to a current moment in my reality.  I don't like nature, for the most part, especially furry creatures and their six or eight legged counterparts.  The beach and sunshine are good for my soul.  I love Christmas.  I drink Coke but never coffee.  One of my favorite things to do is to ride in my car with the windows down and the music way up on a beautiful day.  I have recently discovered swing/shag/blues dancing and now, I know, I can't live without it. 

But, most of all, and I think best of all, I love. In fact, I love to love.  I love to have someone to love and I think maybe, I am in love with being in love.  I love with my whole heart, too.  This makes me, I believe, fiercely loyal and protective of those I am lucky enough to call my friends and family.  This is what I do.  I nurture, I tend to and I try to take care of those I love and I can't turn this part of me off.  I've been trying, but, I can't do it.  Silly to even try.

I have recently been pondering these facts about me and trying to figure out why I feel a little off.  I realized it's the love thing. I feel like I've got a gaping hole in my chest where my heart use to be for all the world to see,  I have all this love to give and  I'm the one who needs it.  Never been selfish a day in my life (intentionally, anyway).  Never put myself first, ever.  I give and give, because, that's who I am.   If you are my friend, I love you and that's that.  I don't know another way.  I'm sure there are varying degrees of that love, by definition, but I do love you, plain and simple. So, why can't I find a way to fill that hole for myself? 

This is the first time in my adult life I have not been half of a duo.  I'm having to become my own 'safe place to fall'  and it's damn hard.  Weird because I have always  been independent and self-reliant, but I have been thrown into a situation that I find absolutely foreign to me. I adore and am in love with my kids, but I refuse to become one of those moms that pours every ounce of themselves into their children because they have no other interests and finds themselves living vicariously through them in some odd attempt at being their 'best' friend.  I need to be me, Tiffany.  Separate, but no less important, than Tiffany the Mom or Tiffany the PhD, etc. 

I guess I should probably cut myself some slack.  It's only been 10 months since I started this journey, while I spent 18 years doing it the other way.  It should take some time and I finally get the phrase "growing pains', because this is hard.  Very hard.  But, this is me.  A lot of the old with some pretty amazing new mixed in.  I need to love this Tiffany because it's the only way I'll be able to spread the love around again and fill that hole.  I've got to stop stifiling myself, in some attempt to re-invent myself or wondering why some people have decided that I'm not enough for them.  It's ridiculous. From this moment on I'm going to stop putting so much pressure on myself to just fix it. 

I need to take my own advice and just freaking roll with it. 
This is me.
Tiffany :)