I am really really frustrated with things in my life these days. I know, I always tell others that if you’re not happy with something in your life, you’re the only one that can change it. And I know, I need to practice what I preach, but I just am not sure how to do that in my own life right now. It is killing me inside. Emotionally, mentally, and in some ways even physically.

Throughout all of this that has happened in the last 5 years, I have always hung on and tried to be positive, hopeful, never losing sight of that hope that I continued to hold on to, right up and through April 20’th 2015. On that date, when Jim was re-admitted to the hospital, one last time, I still clung to hope in a tiny way, but my mind over-ruled that, and I knew in my heart that we were almost at the end of the journey. We brought Jim home again May 4. Even though I was shocked at how quickly he went downhill, even by Thursday night, into Friday morning, I hung on. Friday morning, May 8, I knew then, in my heart, that this was it. I called Jessie. She was able to come out and stay here until the end. I called Jenn, Brenda called me. Somehow, each of our daughters was able to say goodbye. Brenda was on the phone with me when he took his last breath.

Throughout the ensuing days and weeks, I have slowly begun to function again. For weeks following his death, I stayed in an almost “shell-shocked” existence. I stayed in bed for days after the funeral. Then I began to realize I had to get up, and try to resume some sort of a normal life. Get a routine back in place. Even checking the mail had become such an incredible effort. Getting into a car and going to the store was the same way. I just couldn’t force myself to do much of anything other than crying, being angry, getting on my mower and riding to the furthest end of the yard where most people wouldn’t hear a thing, and screaming out at no one in particular.

Singing to some of the Metallica songs that described me at whatever moment in time that would be. That in itself has become a crutch almost. The fact that there are so many recordings in their professional catalog has certainly helped me, because I have honestly found myself in many of them, and I keep those close to my heart now, neatly filed away in the filing cabinet in my mind, for me to pull out whenever I need the emotional support.

Then, as I sit here, on mornings like today, I realize that the constant pain will not go away, and that I am going to have to find some way to adapt and change the constants, and accept my life for what it has become. A shallow, hollow shell of myself exists now.

We spent years and years developing, and becoming who we were up until May 9, 2015. I felt that was one of the things that became my rock. Kept my feet on the ground. It kept me from falling apart. It kept me sane. I no longer have that rock. Our prior existence, our entire lives, it is gone. Now I have to figure out a new one, and I’m not liking that too well anymore.

Today, as with most days, I have to force myself to get up, to at least try to begin to get things accomplished. What needs to be done first- there are so many things that I have to get done, most days I don’t even know where to start. I have no help now, there are many things that have needed to be done ever since he died. Actually, since before Jim died.

So for today, there is a toss up between trying to work on the yard more, cleaning in here, cleaning the neon out, getting rid of all the duplicate files on my computer here so it will run better, trying to figure out a way that I can order the correct sim card replacement online, (yeah, its that sad- I can’t even create a 5 buck purchase on the web because all of my debit cards are at a zero balance), doing inventory on the glass in the old house out here where I store everything, focus on trying to have a yard sale in a couple of weeks, job searching on O’desk and Elance, trying to monetize blog posts, working on my genealogy books, etc etc etc etc etc etc………………

It has been 84 days, 1 hour and 4 minutes since Jim passed away. I know in my heart that I will never get past it, emotionally, he was my entire life since March 24, 1978. Every memory, every moment of time that has passed since then were Jim moments, in many ways, both good and bad. No one can have a relationship that doesn’t include bad times as well as good ones. We loved one another through many occurrences of both the good and the bad. Our love remained intact until dying took him away from me. Now I look back on those memories and they are so much sweeter, or so bitter, or so sad, but they are all things that I will never lose. They can not be taken away from me by anyone. They are my heart, my soul, my entire being, my very existence.

So you see, this is my life right now. Focusing on one minute, or one group of minutes, or one activity at a time. JIm, I can’t bring you back, but I can’t let you go either.

Goodbye, my love. You are missed so much that it is impossible for me to explain the horrible, hollow, empty feelings inside. My one consolation? Is that you didn’t have to endure this pain I am living through by me dying before you.