I've been on radio silence for the past several days, save the absolutely necessary birthday pic of Emi. I don't know what I feel, and I when I do and I say it, it doesn't come out right, and then I'm worse off than when I started. There are creepy crawly eyes who read this blog too, and I haven't figured out what I'm going to do about it yet, if anything. So I just stew.
This past week and the week to come I have started tackling an almost un-tackle-able job. If you're close enough you know what this is, and if you aren't- then you don't. It's vital and important, and pain staking, and a constant reminder of mortality.
It reminds me that I have no idea how to survive when not in survival mode. And that's too bad. I've been stuck in it for so long, I almost NEED it. And I HATE that. I hardly hate anything. But I HATE that. Ick.
The most recent blow, was that the funeral home never started the military paperwork for the cemetery marker for James. He is supposed to get a special one for being in service, and it takes about 6 months for the whole process. Approaching the 6 month mark I called his Lt, and she called his Sergeant to see how far along it was. Well, it wasn't. It wasn't even started. Totally possible that I missed that when I was trying to get everything handled for the funeral and burial, but I SWEAR I talked about it with the funeral director and gave him the papers he needed. I am not about to wait another 6 months. So this weekend I finalized a headstone order with a private company. Ya know when you say your vows, you say FOREVER, till death do us part. What I put on the headstone will also be FOREVER. Longer than forever, at least MY forever. I don't like the uncertainty that I feel when I say that. It's really, really icky.
Not surprisingly, this has turned into a rant instead of something more practical, but so be it. What else feels icky that I remind other people of James, and that makes them sad... so I'm avoided. I'm losing out on not having James here, in addition to the loss of these other friendships. It doesn't seem fair. THEY remind ME of James, and so I'm drawn to them more. I want to hear their stories and just be around them, 'cause then I feel just a little closer to James too. But they pull back, and so must I.
Thank God again for the handful of friends who I can share an entire conversation with, with just a look of the eyes. Or the cross country friend who knows exactly WHEN I need to hear from her, and exactly WHAT I need to hear. I am blessed in little but mighty ways.