November 12, 2009

The Widow Cry

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , , at 2:18 am by letterstoelias

Hello My Love,

I know it’s been a bit since I’ve written again, but even though I can look at it in the mirror any time, I loved coming here and looking at the photo of my hummingbird tattoo – I love what it means to me, and I just wanted to leave it there for a while.  I’ve gotten wonderful feedback on it and I’m just so happy with how it turned out.  It’s healing great too.  Even though it’s been a rough couple of weeks with the girls being sick, I think I’ve actually felt a bit ‘lighter’ now and then after getting it done.  It feels good to finally have it, and to be able to have this permanent piece of you to carry with me and show others how much you mean to me.

That said, it’s still been tough as the girls were fighting this gastrointestinal bug, I can’t even count the loads of laundry I’ve done and number of times I’ve wiped down every light switch, doorknob, faucet, etc. etc. etc.  It’s been pretty tiresome.

To catch up on other events – we had a fun pizza night with Buz and Sian on Friday, and some other friends came along with their two little ones, which was nice.  Their son goes to the same music class as C and we had met on one other occasion outside of that, but had not really had a chance to get to know each other.  I wasn’t sure if they knew about our ‘situation’ or not, but it turned out they didn’t, as at one point I was asked where my husband was.  A pretty natural question – I am young, two kids, still wear my ring, it was a gathering of families.  Still, it catches me off guard sometimes.  It was an added challenge, however, that the man who asked me was deaf, and I didn’t quite know how to sign ‘dead’ and even if I knew at least that, I wouldn’t know how to explain further and wouldn’t exactly want to leave it there.  Fortunately his wife came over and I was able to explain it to her and she translated.

We had a pretty relaxing weekend, and had the Straw’s over for dinner on Sunday night.  I had wanted to try and make your butternut squash & goat cheese ravioli for some time and thought it would be fun to try for them (they’re brave enough to be my guinea pigs).  I looked through your recipes but couldn’t find it.  I must admit, it was emotionally a bit difficult to go through them – seeing your writing, remembering some of the wonderful dishes you made (I sure miss your cooking), seeing countless other recipes I never got to try. . . .   Anyhow, I found one on-line that sounded similar, though it didn’t call for caramelized onions.  I decided to break from my usual ‘m.o.’ of Can’t.  Change.  Recipe.  and decided to caramelize the onions anyway.  You would have had a kick out of this – not only did I use my ‘hold n slice’ to hold the onion while I sliced it, I decided to wear E’s swimming goggles to protect my eyes – I knew I wouldn’t have been able to see for an hour otherwise.  I’m sure it looked pretty ridiculous (and you were laughing your ass off somewhere), but damn it if it didn’t work!

I also couldn’t find a recipe of yours for pasta dough (though there were a number of ‘recipes’ that were comprised of nothing but a list of ingredients, so perhaps it was there . . . ), but I thought I remembered that once you used won ton wrappers for something like that, and I read on-line that you could use them for ravioli, so that’s what I did.  It wasn’t ‘too’ bad in the end.  Not much of a hit with the kids, but Buz and Sian seemed to enjoy it.  The flavour of the filling was actually pretty good and the sauce I used was nice, but I wasn’t thrilled about the won tons, and they got really stuck together when I was trying to keep them warm so the presentation sucked.  A big glump on the plate.  It was just hard because I know how amazing it would have been if you had done it.  I enjoyed trying though.

On Monday night as I was putting the girls to bed, I started to crash a bit emotionally.  Perhaps the ‘high’ of getting the tattoo was wearing off and reality was smacking me back to the ground – I’m not sure.  But as I was talking with E in bed, the fact that they don’t get to experience first hand just how much you love them anymore, it hit hard.  They meant the world to you, and though I know that it’s ingrained in them, I feel like because they were are so young they don’t comprehend it fully, and they won’t remember and get to feel that as time goes on.  It just sucks.  I had to fight back tears as she was still awake.  As we were lying there quietly, E suddenly looked over to me and told me that she heard you say something to her (I tell her that she can always talk to Daddy at any time, even just in her head, and if she listens with her heart she may hear you/feel you sending your love to her).  She told me, ‘He said he wishes he was still here with us’.  I told her that I’m sure that must be true.

After they were finally asleep, I went out to watch a bit of tv, and of course around 10pm C was awake.  I got on the bed with her, but she was really upset and just kept crying ‘Mama’, even though I was right there.  After a bit she calmed down and was falling back to sleep, lying on my arm.  It was such a nice snuggle with her, but again I was thinking of what you were missing out on.  I miss that moment when we would be sitting on the couch and one of the girls would wake up.  We would look at each other, smile, and silently debate on whose turn it was to go put them back to sleep.  It’s not that I’m complaining of being the only one to do it as I don’t mind that much (though I won’t complain when C finally sleeps through the night as the 3am wake ups do get pretty tiresome), it’s more that she didn’t get the chance to call out for you.

With E, you started to be the one to respond to her at night when I was pregnant with C.  I think she was about the same age as C is now.  It had pretty much always been me, and it was a change that took a few nights for her to get used to, but we hit a point when she woke up one night and called for you instead of me.  I remember that feeling so well – a mix of ‘Yay!  Someone else gets called for once!’ and ‘Hey, wait a minute – what do you mean I’m not your first choice?!?’.  But, I remember you really liked to know that it was Daddy she called first (even though it was the middle of the night).  C will never call for you at night.  Or, at least if she does, you won’t be there to answer.  It hurts to know that.  I started crying, and it was the real ‘widow cry’.  A cry like no other.  I’ve cried a lot in my life for various reasons (even dog food commercials will make me cry), but never like this before.  There are plenty of little cry spells that catch me here and there (bars of soap or quilts for example), but it that’s not what I’m referring to here.  This doesn’t hit every day (fortunately) and I suppose it’s less frequent now than before, but when it does hit, it’s intense.  My nose is almost immediately plugged up to the point where not even the tiniest bit of air can squeak through, for some reason it makes me cough like I have bronchitis, it feels like a big awful hand is pulling my heart into the ground, my eyes hurt – it’s impossible to describe.  It’s exhausting.  If nothing else, at least I fell asleep almost immediately afterwards.

The next day was Tuesday, and though I was supposed to work and E was to have pre-school and ballet, since she had still shown signs of the ‘bug’ the day before (bowel troubles . . . I’ll leave it at that) I thought perhaps we should just stay home in ‘quarantine’.  My mom has also been fighting a cold, and I thought it best if we just go it alone at home.  It actually turned out to be not too bad of a day – the girls were feeling fine and were pretty harmonious, and I somehow managed to fit a great deal of work in around them.  We had lots of nice snuggle time, reading books, and we even managed to throw in a little Latin dance party, complete with maracas.  I grabbed that big roll of paper, had them lay down so I could trace them (though C seemed to think it hurt) and hung the paper so they could decorate it for an art project.  I remembered that you had done that with E once and she had enjoyed it.  At one point in during the day she said she ‘heard you’ again – this time she told me you said that we should come to where you are.  She had that little smile on her face where she seems to be testing me out a bit to see what my reaction may be.  Dinner started out ok, but C seems be back on her game of keeping food in her mouth for, well, forever.  That said, she swallowed it pretty fast when I brought out dessert, and she didn’t seem to have any problem swallowing that . . . .

Today was Rememberance Day.  No work or classes, so we had another day just us at home.  We watched some of the national service on tv – and I have to admit that, though I’m not saying it never touched me before, it certainly had a different impact on me this year.  I initially had plans for the day (folding laundry, going to the park, etc), but was feeling pretty tired – though that could have come just from being in the house for more than two solid days with no adult contact (aside from the odd phone call), and so we didn’t do much.  It didn’t help that I cut my finger on some metal recycling (‘almost’ swearing audibly but I managed to refrain) and the girls were bickering a great deal much of the day.  I didn’t get C down for a nap, and by the time I was working on dinner, the girls had spread tupperwear all over the kitchen floor, had been fighting over said tupperwear, C bit E on the head – I had pretty much had enough.  I turned into the crummy mummy who yells.  I carted C off and told them to stay away from each other.  E told me she didn’t like my attitude, to which I maturely responded that I didn’t like hers.  I finally threw dinner in the oven and went to try to get 5 mins to myself in the bedroom.  At that point I heard thunder.  I felt like it was you telling me to calm down.  It did actually calm me down though – I quite like thunder and lightning storms (if it wasn’t for the paranoid dog glued to my leg).  I called the girls in and turned out the lights so we could watch a bit of the lightening and listen to the thunder.  I apologized for yelling, but also asked if they could help me out a bit by tidying the tupperwear and being gentle with each other.  Things were improving and looking to run a little more smoothly – dinner was going well until C decided to stop swallowing her food again.

You know I’m never one to bribe or reward with food, but I had planned cookies for dessert again anyhow – yet even the sight of them didn’t get her to swallow this time because I had previously told her I wanted her to have another bite before dessert.  She started to cry with the food in her mouth, which of course caused her to almost choke, which is one of the reasons it drives me crazy that she does this (not to mention what it could be doing to her teeth that she has food in her mouth for up to an hour sometimes).  I was feeling frustrated and stubborn in the more she cried for her cookie the more I wanted her to have that one last bite.  It was stupid, I know, but I was just stuck in this frame of mind that for some reason it actually mattered if she had one more bite.  I finally decided I would give it to her anyway, but I just wanted her to stop crying first.  I got up to go to the washroom, but of course both of them were tagging after me and when I actually locked the door C just stood on the other side screaming ‘cookie!’ and E knocked asking if she could come in and give me a hug and kiss.  It was very sweet, but, really, I just wanted to pee.  I don’t understand why there always needs to be an audience.  Even the dog comes in half the time.

I waited an extra few minutes, C finally stopped crying, and I came out and gave her the cookie – minus a big bite I took out of it.  I know, ‘Mommy of the Year’ right here.  She was just happy to have the cookie and didn’t seem to notice though.  Anyhow, I had called Brenda and had a good talk with her, which helped, and the girls got ready for bed without incident.  C even fell asleep before I finished reading.  I love those girls more than life itself, but it was just one of those days where grief and exhaustion took over.  It’s not to say that it was all bad, we had some good times in the day too – but I just hate to loose it like that.  Oh well, in the end I guess they at least get more modelling on being apologetic.

They are amazing girls though – and to leave with some of the brighter moments from the past few days – here are some fun shots of the girls, along with a final (albeit not great quality) shot of the girls sleeping tonight . . .

Thank you,

~C~

P.S.  I Love You

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2 Comments »

  1. Sian said,

    Chelsea!! Give yourself some credit! The dinner was amazing! You are a wonderful cook and we are always happy to come and share a meal with you. I’m just sad I missed seeing you doing the prep work with the goggles on! We love you Chelsea!

    • letterstoelias said,

      Thanks so much Sian – I know it wasn’t too bad, but as you unfortunately never had the chance to have any of Elias’ cooking, you don’t know what to compare it to . . . . which is a good thing for me! And, next time, I’ll be sure to have you over to watch the prep work too – goggles and all.

      It’s always great having you and the boys over and I’m happy to be able to try and show how much I appreciate all that you do for us.
      ~C~


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