Do they serve Ben & Jerrys in the psych ward?

I’m still pretty angry and upset today.  Unfortunately, it seems that’s how it is these days.  I have a few good days, and then when one bad day hits it hangs on for a bit to make things interesting.  Yesterday, I felt alone.  Very alone.  I had no support at home because Rob wasn’t here, and I have no support at work because I am a department of one.  I had to come to work yesterday, even though I was up at 3:50 and my toddler really should have stayed home and gone back to bed.  I have no back-up at work and yesterday I had none at home.  And he didn’t ask me how I was, if I needed anything, or even say he wished he was here to help.  Not once.  I ripped into him for it and he emailed me an apology.  When did we start believing emailed apologies were acceptable??

I will say that I have some of the most amazing friends though so regardless of how much of an asshat my boyfriend was/is, my girlfriends are the best, were there when I needed them, and I am truly blessed to have them in my life.  They came to my rescue and continue to do so whenever I fall, they stood beside me and held my hand at my lowest points so I knew I wasn’t alone and so I had a hand to hold when I was ready to get back up off of the proverbial floor on which I had turned into a (not so proverbial) puddle.  I am never without a hand to hold a shoulder to lean on because I have these women in my life; in that regard, everyone should be so lucky.

Today, I may not feel as alone as I did yesterday but I am still pretty angry.  And not just at him, although I will admit that a pretty large portion of my anger is pointed in his direction.  I’m angry that it’s the 3^rd of April and it will be her birthday in 16 days, less days than we had between the time we knew there was something wrong and the day she died.  Next Friday it will be three months.  This Saturday, 12 weeks. If she hadn’t died, we would be in the throes of planning her 80^th birthday party; I would be taking RSVPs and ordering balloons and food.  I’m not doing any of that, which sucks and makes some days harder than others.  I handle the day to day generally well because I don’t have anything staring me in the face, reminding me that I am mom-less.  I ignore the shirts that I have that were once hers, even as they sit on the side of my bed still.  I ignore the times when I go to call the house and I have to select “Dad” instead of “Mom and Dad” in my phone.  I ignore it as best I can because it’s the only way I can get through some days; as her birthday, Easter and my birthday approach I seem to have a harder time handling the memories and the thoughts of her and really, any mention of her can bring tears to my eyes lately.  It’s hard to go through this time of year without her here.  They say the first one is the hardest, but that doesn’t make going through it any easier.  Rob thinks I should see a therapist.  I don’t need a therapist, I need my mom back.  And I need to be allowed to grieve however I need to grieve; I’m just not sure how that is exactly and I think I need to figure it out on my own; it’s my journey, not some therapist in an office’s journey (I don’t need a tour guide, thanks).   How do you know what to do and if you’re doing the right things now so that you’re okay later?  Barnes & Noble doesn’t have a “What to do when your mom dies” section with all of the answers clearly explained in one small, short series of books.

I just wish she was still here, you know?  It’s not that we had a great relationship; I didn’t call her just to chat it up or update her on a great pair of shoes that I saw.  We weren’t all that close in the grand scheme of things and I hope and pray constantly that my relationship with my daughter is a thousand times better (and healthier) than what I had with my mom.  But bad or good, I would give just about anything to have that relationship back.  I know that it’s better that she was the one to go first; had it been my dad with her left behind, I don’t know how we would have managed. She couldn’t drive, she had no idea how to pay bills, she wouldn’t have taken care of the house at all, and she probably would have only eaten ice cream all the time.  I hate to say that it’s better it was her and not him, sounds cold and callous.  But it’s the truth.  I didn’t want to lose either of them, but I thought losing him would be harder for me than losing her.  So I guess that would mean that when it’s his time, I’ll need to reserve the closest padded room and accompanying white jacket that ties in the back for a good couple of months.  I wonder if they serve Ben & Jerry’s in places like that.  If they don’t they should and I will make that request with my reservation.