Sunday, August 8, 2010

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

Several months ago, before Bobby's illness got to the "there-is-nothing-more-we-can-do-you-need-to-go-into-hospice" phase, we promised the kids we would take them to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum in Cleveland over Spring Break in April. Well, that didn't happen because over Spring Break, Bobby was in Hospice care at home, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum was the last thing on my mind.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago and the kids asked me, "Can we go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum this summer?" So I said I would take them. So I drove seven hours (with my sister also in tow) to Cleveland. We spent all day Friday at the Museum.

What does this have to do with Bobby? Well, I cannot tell you how many times I would read a fact or see an object on display and want to turn around and say to him, "Look at this!" or "Did you read this?" It was the first "vacation" I took without him and in some ways, even though I thoroughly enjoyed the Museum, I was so sad because I was not sharing it with him. Which leads me to this next thought....

I'm having trouble moving on without him. (Big surprise?) I "catch" myself enjoying whatever I am doing and I feel immediately sad. I cannot live like this, and I don't know how to stop without feeling completely guilty about it. I feel like there is a part of me that should never have fun, because to have any sort of fun is like a betrayal. I'm supposed to be the person in the world who loved him the most, so why would that person (me) have any kind of fun when the love of her life is gone?

Many well-meaning friends and family have pointed out to me that I should be able to have fun because despite the fact that he is gone, I am still alive (well, duh!) but that is not the simple answer. I cannot picture him saying to me, "Well, I'm gone now, so you need to go on and have fun without me." In all fairness, I also cannot picture him telling me, "You need to mourn in the house forever and never have any fun." We never talked about that sort of thing, so I do not know his thoughts in this case. I'm the person who knew him the best, and I could, in any given situation, answer for him because I knew what he would say in almost all situations. Yet ironically the ONE question that I really need answered, I cannot answer for him. Oh, the frustration!


  1. Hi, its Laura again. I am reading all of your entries- you are a really good writer and manage to get your feelings across in an engaging way.

    Just wanted to say, I know what you mean- the guilty feeling (my husband died 5 months ago) But for me, this has been the one thing that has been easiest to adapt to- having fun. You are right that your husband wouldn't want you to mourn and reject fun. What has helped me is when I'm having fun, I feel him there with me- having it too. Whenever I am doing something enjoyable- i think of him immediately and know he'd be into it too. Next time you do something that you know he'd enjoy-include him!

  2. Be patient with yourself. Maybe you're not ready to "think about" having fun. You might try putting yourself in situations that just *happen* to be fun if you feel you need help, but if you're feeling that self-conscious, it might just not be time for fun yet. Do what you need! There are no rules.

    P.S. You all ARE right. He would want you to be happy, but there is a time for everything, and I bet he'd be real patient with you, too.