I started my 4 year anniversary today. The reason I say “started” is because the 16th was when my husband was in his accident. And then he died on the 18th. What I should say is that he “officially” died on the 18th. I knew I had already lost who he was 4 years ago today.
Every year, the anniversary time is different. I hesitate to say easier...some things are, some things aren’t. The days have gotten easier, for the most part. But the sneak attack of grief seems to be harder. Maybe because I’m never expecting it and every year it seems like I’m involved in a “grief stick-up.” Held at emotional gun point with my back up against a wall with no where to go, my sub-conscious saying, “Give me your tears. No...not just a few. I want all of them or I won’t let you get out of bed for 3 weeks!”
It’s weird how I get robbed every year and it always comes as a surprise.
I started my usual grief slide earlier this week. I don’t know why I do this during this time every year: Where most people can’t seem to get out of bed, I can’t seem to stay in it. Not only that, but I get obsessed with giving myself a complete overhaul. I don’t know if I’m trying to get my outsides to not look anything like my insides or maybe it’s just an impatience with life in general and I’m doing everything I can to change anything that’s within my control. But Thursday, I went to get my haircut and my hairdresser said, “You really don’t need a haircut.”
To which I replied, “Then give me highlights. Do something. Can’t you see I’m going crazy in here??”
Since I was in her chair about a week after my husband died, basically telling her the same thing, you would think we would both be used to this by now. For the first time, it occurred to me that I might want to get my hairdresser, waxer, nail technician, and therapist on a schedule where they have a yearly conference call to get ready for the big anniversary.
Can you just imagine how that conversation would go?
“She’s looking a little manic today. Is that hairstyle or feet? You know by tomorrow she’s going to be exhausted...Waxer...that’s your day. Wake her up a little. Therapist...you get the day after the anniversary. Every thing will be plucked, pulled, cut, or painted by then and she’ll have no place else to go.”
I know I’m sounding a little crazy. But what did you expect? By next week...I’ll be starting in on year five. At this point...crazy has been earned. I’ve worked hard at it. I’ve been dedicated to it. I’m about to get my 4 year degree in Crazy (would that be a B.A. or a B.S.?).
Insanity comes with a life well lived. Us widows are just better at it than most.