Yesterday I had moving on my mind heavily. Should we stay or should we go? In the beginning, right after Dave died, no one would hear about moving. The thought was unbearable. After a couple months, I wanted to swap the positions of Dave’s big leather chair and a more comfortable upholstered chair with an ottoman that is also in our living room. The kids freaked out. They didn’t want me to do it. Then one day, I just did it. I swapped them. It didn’t hurt anyone. His chair is still there, just in a different spot. But yesterday, the middle darling asked me to turn on the light in the garage. It was just he and I, and I usually never ask him anything about the scene in the garage, even though I think about it every time he is in there, or anyone is in there. It’s impossible to walk in there and not think about it. Does he think about it too? I must be totally stupid to even think he ever didn’t. I have asked him before, asked all of them before, and they have at various times said it didn’t bother them that much. But yesterday, as we entered the garage, I said, “Buddy, does it bother you to come in here?” “Well, it makes me think about daddy being dead on the floor” is the answer. Then he shows me again where his legs were, where his head was, and says that his eyes were open. The fact that his eyes were open is a big deal to the middle darling. I think that he thought Dave was still alive because his eyes were open. It was the one thing he could cling to, the thing that gave him hope, but his hopes were dashed, and he never forgot it. And in that moment, I think I made a decision. It may not happen this month or even this year, but I think we are getting the fuck out of here. People have told me to paint, change things, do this or that. Nah. It’s impossible for us to not use the garage. It’s one thing for me to have to go in there and deal with it. It’s quite another to subject my kids to it. And the main thing that bothers me about this is that I never saw Dave dead. I didn’t see him lying there. I didn’t watch him die. I wouldn’t even go in and identify his body. They asked me to, and I refused. I didn’t want that vision in my head. I only wanted to remember him alive. But my babies…they saw. Their evil, sick and twisted father didn’t give them the opportunity to choose. And sometimes I hope he’s rotting in hell for that. I’m going to try hard to pray for him today, for all of us, instead of hate him.
I will leave you with slightly more amusing thoughts, because the other stuff has had me wallowing in self pity all day. In my defense, it’s raining and I haven’t had a lazy day in a really long time. The little darling has a ‘stay home day’ today, and he’s been asking me for candy since 9:43. I was repeatedly telling him no and determined to stay firm. After about the 4th time, he slyly walks into the office where I’m sitting and says, “Pretty mommy!” and strokes my arm. I say, “Oh baby, I love you so much!” Then he holds the candy up. He’s currently on his second pack.
The Diary is still #1. Please vote if you enjoy the blog, by clicking the Top Mommy Blog icon top/right. So many of you have been leaving me the most incredible comments…I’m speechless at a lot of them. I promise to respond to each one of you. I want to make sure you all know how much these words mean to me. I know we don’t know one another, we certainly could be standing in line next to one another in the grocery store on any given day. But when you tell me things like, “I’ve been up all night reading and I can’t stop” and “this is some of the most compelling writing I’ve ever read” and “I look so forward to reading your blog each day” and “I’m taking a break from reading so I can pray for you and your darlings”….I’m just so touched. It further cements that we are all connected. That our actions, our words, they affect each and every one of us. So many people have said I make them a better parent. Your comments to me make me a better parent too. Love to you, Madpeople.