I am in a pothole. I named these “grief episodes” after the cracks in the road that sometimes take us by surprise when we are driving. I never see them coming but have been learning to navigate them when they hit me. I know they are temporary and necessary for my growth. But they are painful and isolating because I am just stuck in my own head and heart. So here I am telling you about my pothole this week in the hopes it makes me less likely to implode. 

Mother’s Day was rough. I don’t know how to be a “mom of honor” and get spoiled when I am looking at these three grieving kids. What kind of mom could miss all the signs that her co-pilot was spiraling towards suicide? How do I sit there and celebrate how awesome I am when the man who made me a mom is not here? 

Erik is who helped me become an okayish mom in the first place! We used to remind each other what great parents we were after a kid did one of the “my kids would never” things. We loved being parents together (most days…) I see Erik in every part of the mom I am and I feel the impact of his absence on the kind of mom I am now. 

The absence of Erik is probably going to make all my milestones and special days feel a little more hollow. I am watching my youngest get ready for graduation this weekend. We have parties and festivities almost every day. I know this is a happy and special time for Anna. I know this in my head. 

No one has to tell me to “focus on the good stuff” or “try to be present in the moment.” I am trying. Harder than anyone but God will ever know. But standing around every event alone and planning her celebration without my person is brutal. It is awful. I don’t know another synonym for shitty so I will just leave it at that. 

I know Erik better than anyone. He wanted to be here for these moments. Anna deserves to have her awesome dad here helping us carry the cooler and ice for the party like every other Dad. I want this to be clear: It is not MY GRIEF that hurts me on these special days. I can enjoy my friends and enjoy being solo at these events and have fun celebrating Anna with my family. I can and I will enjoy it. 

The pain that shoved me into this pothole is Erik’s grief. 

I feel HIS LOSS in my soul. I feel him MISSING US as much as we miss him. That is what widowhood and motherhood for this suicide survivor feels like today. I am engulfed in his pain and decision to miss all the special days with us forever. I couldn’t get out of bed after Mother’s Day this week. My head hurt and I couldn’t stay awake or think straight. The pothole was deep. My body was telling me, “whoa” to the big feelings.

So I had to take a break this week and admit to myself that I hit a pothole again. They seem to be more likely to happen around these bigger occasions like my baby graduating from high school and Mother’s Day. It was kind of a double whammy so maybe I will be more prepared next time.

This is not a cry for help. I am not sharing this for pity or empathy, but for my own sake and to be true to myself. So please don’t put me on the prayer list at church!

I am just in a pothole because it really is as bad as it seems. I don’t have to put a bow around it and cheer up. Erik is not coming back. My team mate is gone. He will miss Anna’s high school graduation. He won’t be there to hold my hand when I let out that sob. And I won’t be able to make fun of him for crying like a baby.

I will write another story soon where I am killing it in life…planting gardens and learning how to change the AC filters and mastering something cool like pilates. Today I am carrying my husband’s broken heart in my broken heart.

In fact, I always used the E.E Cummings poem in my love notes to Erik. I would always say, “I carry your heart in my heart.” And that is the truth.