I think maybe I need therapy. Not like in a, "That bitch is crazy" kind of way. Just in an, "I need to get over this" kind of way.
Stoney's friend passed away from ALS a few months ago and today his wife posted an update to his Caring Bridge website. It was a heartfelt note, written to let their family and friends know that they hadn't forgotten about them. They have two younger sons and it sounds as if his wife is struggling to deal with her grief ... along with trying to help two sons who are dealing with the heartbreaking reality that they'll grow up without their dad.
Reading her note brought tears to my eyes. You could just FEEL the grief and frustration in her words. She begged everyone to understand that they needed time and space ... and to remember that everyone grieves in their own way.
This immediately made me feel guilty for everything I've felt about J this last year. I want to understand that people grieve different. But I honestly don't feel like I can forgive him for writing me about another woman a week after we'd buried my best friend.
That sounds like an exaggeration or a lie ... and I'll be the first to admit that I'll exaggerate on occasion if it makes for a funny story. My dog obviously didn't talk to me the day of that snow storm. But it made it a lot funnier to tell the story as if he had. But my posts about J were never an exaggeration. The week after her funeral, he was telling me about stopping by the bank branch his wife worked at because one young woman was giving him lots of attention, hugging him, texting him, asking if he needed anything.
In the months following all that, I got in an argument with one of our friends over all this. I said something in passing about him having a date two weeks after the funeral. She sharply corrected me and said, "It WASN'T a date." I angrily retorted, "No, but he THOUGHT it was, he WANTED it to be, and he was UPSET when he found out she had a boyfriend."
And that, my friends, is why I need therapy.
Who fucking cares? I mean ... really? Who CARES?
So he's an asshole? So he's a thoughtless fuck who felt like he won the lottery when his wife died. So he's an unfeeling prick who flashed his bank balance (literally) in front of us. So he's a greedy son of a bitch who bragged about the tax break he got from donating his dead wife's wheelchair?
What difference does it make now? Why does it still hurt so damned bad?
I can't think of anything that would help. I've asked myself ... what do I want? For him to apologize? To break down, cry, and say he was wrong? No. Because, as frustrating as it is, part of me understands.
She was difficult to deal with sometimes. She was in a wheelchair and he was her sole caregiver. They'd lived paycheck to paycheck their whole life. So why wouldn't he be happy to suddenly have lots of money? Why wouldn't he be happy to not have to dress and bathe someone?
I understand all that ... I just don't understand why he couldn't see everyone grieving around him. It's like from the night we stood at her bed in the middle of the night and said goodbye to her ... it's like at that very minute he decided everything was about him ... and no one else mattered. Not me ... not Stoney ... not her brothers or her nieces ... not his sister or mother ...no one.
I just need to get to a point of forgiveness, I suppose. It's just hard to believe that one friend is sadly asking her friends to understand why she's taking "so long" to grieve ... while another is angry that people didn't understand his need to avoid grieving all together.
Thoughts in my head.
Meanwhile ... I pack.
The good times that made us laugh
Outweigh the bad.
I thought we'd get to see forever
But forever's gone away
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.
Boys II Men -
It's So Hard to Say Goodbye To Yesterday