Since the incident at the Festival of Arts Band Concert last week, I've been thinking about how my kids were able to make me feel better the other night without even knowing what they were doing.
Every so often I think about those first few days after Bobby passed away and the pile of mess that I had turned into. I was completely helpless, and I didn't want to be anything else. Three days after he passed away, I was lying in bed, in the house all alone, crying really really hard, and wishing for the first time in my whole life that I would die. And I'd been through some hard times...problems at school when I was little, divorced from my first husband, losing my dad, laid off from a job, wondering where my next rent payment was coming from. And let me tell you, all of these scenarios SUCKED, but none of them ever made me want to die! It was a scary, scary place to be.
So I was lying there, feeling like death would be better than this, yet not contemplating suicide simply because I couldn't go that far. But I can tell you that if Tony Soprano and his goons has showed up at my house "packing heat", I probably would have let them in and offered them a cup of coffee instead of running in the other direction.
Then I thought of something...the kids!! If I died, they would find me here!! That would traumatize them for life! I could not do that to them!! They just lost their dad - losing me, too, would ruin them! That thought scared me more than anything else that was going on with what I considered at the time my wretched life without Bobby. So I remember dragging myself out of that bed, into the shower so I'd be clean, dressed and ready for them when they got home.
Was I still a mess? Of course! But I had two other very important people to worry about, who held me together without even realizing it.
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