Everything at Once

I have several blogs, but this is the least censored, because very few people who know me know about this blog. This is the blog I write for me, for my own personal journal. It isn't the family record, it isn't for a specific purpose, it's just the place where I can sort out my head, or try to, among a few trusted friends and a handful of strangers who have been consistently kind in their responses.

I am feeling so many things at once. And many of them don't go together. Many of them, if you put them side by side, would be almost eerie.

Very recently I want to try to understand DH's suicide better. I know at the outset that this will be a futile undertaking, but the process of arriving at the futility of understanding is still calling, beckoning like a siren. So I have bought some books, and I will read them. I also want to understand what's going on in my own head better. I am all at once deeply grieving his loss and simultaneously experiencing the most miraculous blooming of new love in my and the kids' lives. It's like having two chapters of a book blended together and trying to still make sense of the different story threads, trying to still allow them both the space to breathe, to develop, to simultaneously both have my full attention.

I'm not sure this is possible. In fact, I'm pretty sure it isn't.

I realized today that my life is undeniably easier, more joyful, more stable, now than it was two years ago. And I feel simultaneously grateful and guilty for that. I'm angry at him. I miss him. I wish I could have somehow known what he was planning. I wish I could have had the chance to try to explain to him that I still loved him, but couldn't be married to him. That I thought he was a great dad. That the kids loved him dearly. That he was valuable to everyone in the world who knew him. That, contrary to what his friends assumed or told him, I didn't hate him. I didn't want him to hurt. I just needed to get free again. It was too lonely, too sad, too unkind. Please, just let me be. Please....

I feel like I need couples counseling for myself and my dead, estranged husband.

Today the four of us (me, kids, new SO) went to the Half-Priced Books store so that I could look for books on suicide. Strangely, there were none. But while I searched, SO kept the kids occupied. For almost 45 minutes. They're 3 and 6 mind you. This was a feat of extraordinary commitment and creativity. And he protected my space and time to look for books for as long as I wanted. It was astonishing. I heard him and the kids wandering nearby at one point, and my son said he wanted to come find me. No, SO said, she's having some time to herself right now. You know how sometimes you want to be by yourself? Well that's what she needs right now. Let's go look over here...

It was amazing. There I was, looking for books to help me cope with my nearly ex-husband's suicide, while my current partner protected my time and gently managed the kids to give me that opportunity.

This is nothing short of miraculous. I told him how amazing and awesome he was. He shrugged. You needed the time. We came home and had a light dinner, and he cooked something beautiful and healthy and delicious for himself. I just wanted a half a grapefruit but ended up nibbling off of his plate. It's been a lovely evening, but still framed by the complicated emotions and thoughts that come with surviving the suicide of a loved one. At this moment I'm listening to him and my son talking and laughing in my son's bedroom as he tucks him in for bed.

Miraculous.

I have though of slowing things down with new SO, but I think I can manage at the pace we're proceeding, and the kids seem to need him. If I could create a pocket in time that I could slip into for about a year to try to process everything, I would. But the kids are growing and getting older and their questions and wants and ponderings are growing up, too. I can't slow this down. Life goes at the pace it goes at. I'll flow along with it best I can.