I Miss Him

I miss my partner. I miss my best friend. I don't want to do this alone.

The last week or so has been hard. The excitement of new things in the future has been undermined by the nuts and bolts of making those things happen. Sorting through things here is a monumental task. Besides the sheer enormity of the project, there is also the emotional tugs of it.

We poured ten years of blood, sweat, and tears into this place. Everywhere I look there are things we worked on together. There are dreams that won't ever come true. Things we finished, I am tearing apart. There are Tim's things I am not quite sure what to do with. The tasks are large and overwhelming at times, and I know little by little it will get done, but I wish we could just snap our fingers and it would be finished.

There is also Aunt Hazel's house in Akron. I am helping my mom sort through things there, and set it up for a sale. She and her husband lived there their entire marriage. He owned the house before they married. It is crammed full of things and three hours away.

There are parenting challenges. This is the hardest job. Four kids all going through different things while mourning their father. Some more demanding of attention, but all needing attention. Some outwardly challenging and others withdrawn. One of me. Parenting is so hard, and it was not meant to be done alone.

These things, added to the normal daily responsibilities, feel crushing some days. The simple task of putting together a meal and getting the kitchen cleaned up often feels like the straw that broke the camel's back. The kids really are great about helping, but they rarely see what needs done without being asked. Often, they are just as tired as I am by the end of the day. Sometimes their help is more work for me than help, and ultimately, I am responsible for all the daily stuff. I miss having someone to share that with.

I miss my cheerleader, my encourager. He knew how to make me feel appreciated. He always saw the bright side. This might be a rabbit trail, but after Tim died, a friend that he went to graduate school with sent me a note telling me a story she remembered from those days. Basically the story was about how much Tim loved and appreciated me, about how he bragged about my domestic skills and the like. The thing is I considered that the absolute worst year of our marriage. It was a very stressful year, and Tim saw the good things.

I hesitate to post this. I am not looking for answers or for a pity party, though I do allow myself to throw brief ones occasionally. I know I tend to have a martyr complex when under stress. I know the truth is I do have a lot of help and support, but none of it replaces my partner and my best friend. I miss him.