It’s The Little Things That Hurt The Most

There are so many changes we are adjusting to as we maneuver through our life without Andrew. The little reminders of Andrew that I come across unintentionally hurt the most. These little moments almost hurt more than the days that I know are going to be tough such as Father’s Day, birthdays, and all the major holidays. I think I can mentally prepare myself much better when these holidays or special occasions are coming up. It is the little things that practically jump out at me when I least expect them, and sometimes I have absolutely zero control over when they happen. The emotions and all the feelings are so overwhelming during these small moments, that I feel like I am choking. I imagine myself being stuck in a river with a current that is so strong that I am being quickly carried downstream while trying to take big breaths of air before I am forced under water again. I try to breath in, but my chest feels so heavy and tight, like I am gasping for air.

It is seeing one of Andrew’s favorite shirts hanging up in our closet that still has the sleeves rolled up from one of the nice dinners we went to together. I stand there with my hand on my forehead staring at this shirt, trying to remember when he wore it last, where we went, and who we were with. I am so mad at myself because I really cannot remember any of these details, yet I want to remember so badly. This shirt has been hanging in the closet for over six months, exactly the way he left it when he hung it up for the last time.

It is seeing Andrew’s drivers license in his wallet and a receipt from one of our favorite restaurants. This was the last time Andrew and I had lunch together. We sat at a little table, just the two of us, while the noises of people talking around us filled the air. He was not feeling great and chose a salad while I ordered a baked pasta dish. This lunch was right before Christmas, so we were both a little preoccupied thinking about what other gifts we needed to buy and what else we needed to do before family came to town. What I would give to go back to this day just to have lunch again with him. We would talk about all of the craziness that is happening in the world today, we would talk about the kids and how amazing they are, and then I am sure he would bring up his ideas for another family vacation.

It is seeing Andrew’s shoes laying on the bedroom floor, just like they used too. Abbey was recently trying on some of my shoes and clothes, so Jacob wanted to try on some of Andrew’s shoes. His shoes of course did not fit Jacob yet, and were left lying on the floor. The emotions and memories hit me when I came back into the bedroom hours later and saw those shoes on the floor. It has been months since I have seen Andrew’s shoes laying around, so seeing this pair of shoes made me start crying and gasping for air. This pair of shoes were the shoes Andrew wore home from the hospital, the ones that I helped him tie, and it was this same pair of shoes that I helped him untie the last time he ever wore them.

It is finding gift cards that I bought Andrew for Christmas and knowing that he never got to use them. It is finding other gift cards that he bought to some of our favorite places we loved to go to on date night. Who am I ever going to take to these places again? How am I ever going to be ready to eat at some of these places without him? So many memories of him are packed inside each of these gift cards that are flowing and swirling through my brain.

It is opening up the bathroom drawer and seeing his deodorant and razor placed in the exact spot he put them last. It is looking at his shampoo bottle in the shower and thinking of the last time I had to bathe him because he could not do it himself. Every morning I replay that day when I washed his hair for the last time.

It is finding a feeding tube, still wrapped in the package, that unintentionally got pushed towards the back of the kitchen cupboard. This silly tube has so much meaning. Tubes just like this one, was how Andrew ate, how he got his nutrients and medications the final weeks of his life. This was my job to make sure he had what he needed. I felt like I had a purpose while taking care of him and flushing out the tube and hooking it up to the machine, and keeping notes of feeding times, just like I had seen the nurses do so many times when he was in the hospital. The day Andrew died, I did not know who I was supposed to help take care of anymore. Sure, the kids need my help, but they do not require constant assistance anymore. I was so devoted to helping him, I felt so lost and it took months before I was able to figure out my purpose again.

It is driving around town just weeks after he died and going to all the utility companies to change our accounts from his name to mine. Every place I went, I had to take out his death certificate from the yellow envelope I carried tucked under my arm and I had to explain my story over and over again. My eyes got watery the first two times while trying to explain to the person helping me that my husband died, and that I needed to change the information on our account. By the time I drove to the third place, I had my speech down to exactly what I needed to say and kept a straight face until I got back inside my car, then the tears would not stop.

It is going to the funeral home to pick up Andrew’s ashes and the man that answered the door asks me how he can help me. I have never picked up ashes before and I cheerfully said, “Hi, I’m here to pick up my husband.” I do not seriously know what I was thinking when I said it, it was not like I was picking him up from a play date or something. The words just spilled out. This man looked at me with a strange expression on his face, probably thinking I was at the wrong place. I quickly laughed and clarified that my husband died and I was picking up his ashes. My cheerful facade quickly changed as I rode home holding his ashes tightly in my lap.

It is filling out doctor forms and having to circle the word “widow” as my marital status now. It is crossing out Andrew’s name and contact information and having to think of another person to list as my emergency contact. It is seeing mail addressed to me as Ms. instead of Mrs. and it is seeing mail still addressed to Andrew.

Change is not easy and in fact change has always been hard for me. Going through so many changes in these past few months has changed me. All of these little things really do hurt, however fewer little things come up as days pass by. Losing my spouse has created a lot of change and losing him has not been easy. Even though I know I have an amazing support system, some days I feel so alone and empty inside. Some of my favorite text messages that help keep me going are from my family and friends who just let me know they are thinking of me and the kids and that they love us. I have found that helping others helps me feel better, so my goal is to help others not feel alone or empty by sending a positive message to them to let them know there are people who care. I challenge you to reach out to at least one person you know who is grieving the loss of a loved one or someone who is going through some hard times. How can you make a difference for someone today?