A little while after I tucked the kids in last night, I could hear Jacob blowing his nose a lot which probably meant that he was crying. I went up to check on him, and sure enough...
"I miss my daddy" was all he could get out between sobs. Like his sister, he's going through another stage, too. Oh hell - we all are, and apart from a few breaks here and there, I don't think it'll ever end.
"I want to move back to Buffalo" was the next thing he said. I didn't expect to hear this, but I can understand why. Even though we love being here, we're all experiencing isolation of sorts while we still try to establish friendships. I told him we're not moving again, but I asked him what else could help make this better for him. He said he wants to go back to visit every three months. I think that's a very resonable request, and one that we'll follow through with.
As much as I've been having my own frequent moments missing Matt more than usual lately, I thought I'd been doing a good job hiding it. It's so fucking hard to find a healthy balance of keeping Matt in our children's lives so they "know" their daddy and don't forget, versus reopening wounds for them. Am I hurting them more by trying to keep his memory alive? Am I hurting myself? I don't *think* I've been mentioning him too much. I don't want to forget, though, and I don't want them to forget him, either. Can one of my fellow widowed peeps give me some guidance with this? I'm not sure I'm doing the right things. We are hurting, but are we hurting more than we should be or is this normal for freaking four years out?
So when I went to bed last night, I was exhausted. I had worked out HARD for the first time in nine years, and I expected to have a good solid sleep that night. Not so much. I had a nightmare, which is a repeat from the ones I've been having the last four years - that Matt just died and I just recently found out or was being told for the first time. I stayed awake long enough that I hoped I wouldn't continue the dream, but when I went back to sleep, sure enough, but just a different version. Next time I woke up, I walked around a little before attempting sleep again. Didn't work. Nothing worked for however many times it happened last night (I lost count). All I know is I hardly slept and I haven't been able to shake the heaviness in my heart and I've been fighting back tears all day, like it hasn't been bad enough lately as it is. It just seemed to reopen the wounds, as it does every single time I have that nightmare.
The wounds have been so fresh today - more than usual. It takes the wind out of me. I'm starting to think I really am traumatized and irreparably broken.
I'd like to think I put on a good front and make everyone - especially my children - think that everything is fine and that I'm not as affected anymore. Have I been convincing to everyone? I can actually convince myself sometimes, too.