Compartmentalizing

We are officially entering our 2nd revolution around the sun without Steve. Although he was still with us in December, he was hospitalized and we were terrified. He was intubated and we were unable to see or communicate with him.

We “celebrated” my birthday, Hanukkah and New Year’s Eve during his hospitalization.

This second go round somehow seems harder.

It’s more “real”.

I have now learned to compartmentalize my feelings.

But that doesn’t always work.

As I stood at the checkout line at the grocery store yesterday, I was faced with the image of myself talking about Covid with the cashier and telling her that my husband was hospitalized.

I could “see” where I stood in that Jewel. I could “hear” our conversation as I told the cashier that my husband was intubated. I could “feel” the small strand of hope I was clinging onto.

I could not compartmentalize.

I got in the car and cried.

We are all on Winter Break in my home and we are all busy trying to “compartmentalize” our grief.

It is exhausting.

Although we are very close, it is so hard to talk about losing Steve. It is still so new to us and the kids are so very tender.

Occasionally, one of us will bring up a memory of him and the room is silent for a second as he is broken out of the box we all have him stored in.

Although we are moving towards our 2nd year without him, we still can’t share memories without fighting back tears.

It seems so much harder as we enter our year of seconds….

At times, I feel regret for the things I never got to say to him but I also feel guilty for things that I did say.

At other times, I am angry at him for all of the the family time he missed out on because he felt he had to work.

I feel like I am back on the rollercoaster ride of emotions.

My compartmentalization tool seems to be broken.

I am definitely proud of all we have accomplished and how strong we have become but I am so heartbroken that my children have to face this sort of grief at such a young age.

Our house is often quiet as we each sit in different rooms doing our own thing.

I’m fairly certain that the kids retreated to their rooms while Steve were alive as well.

But now, the separation and quiet is deafening.

We are all working really hard to be okay.

While everyone else is celebrating holidays and the New Year, we are fighting to put our best foot forward and to face the future.

I know that we have come so far and that I have amazing children with unbelievable resilience but right now, I feel like a failure because I can’t fix their heartbreak.

I once heard that when you have a child, it is like your heart is walking around outside of your body for the rest of your life.

That is so true.

When they are heartbroken, I am heartbroken and there is no fixing this kind of heartbreak.

There is only compartmentalizing, putting on a brave face and moving forward.

So, we will continue to face new challenges and we will continue to make wonderful memories knowing that sometime soon, we will be able to smile and laugh as we revisit our memories with Steve.