Thursday, October 7, 2010


So here is my son Remy, laid out on the living room sofa, fast asleep while I talk on the phone with my daughter. In the next room is Dante, sprawled out across his bed, which lately looks two sizes too small for him.

Let's not forget Ranger, who is currently sleeping in Dante's laundry basket. I'm not exactly sure how he came to sleep inside the basket, but he looks quite cozy. Fido has been quietly curled up on the large pet bed across from me, and Carelli seems to move back and forth from sleeping on top of Remy, and over to the love couch across the room I had a wonderful talk with my daughter, mostly listening to her describe a difficult period she is going through, but hearing her express it in a calm and thought out manner. Evidence of growth.

It all seems so simple. One would look at this picture, and when doing the math, would see that it adds up to a pretty peaceful place to be. Then why did I sit at work resisting the realization that it was time to go home.

You know, it's horrible when your spouse dies, leaving you alone to cope with life. It's absolutely cruel if they do it when the kids are all going through adolescence.

I did not sit down to whine in front of all of you. No, really, I didn't. I just feel so damn tired of all the strife that is common here in my home. I'm am tired of facing problems that are so beyond simple explanation or solution. It's not that I didn't have to deal with these same complex challenges before hand. And it's not as if Michael was always able to contribute to the problem solving that these challenges present. It's that I am alone with it all.

I'm feeling like the pace of life that I was enjoying this summer, has become completely annihilated. I enjoy where I am working, but it's just that by the fact that I am back to working that I find myself feeling just as overwhelmed, an exhausted. So much of what I accomplished for myself this summer, is already vanishing. I know I need to bring it all back, but since I am dealing with so much again, I find it too easy to just withdrawal.

I guess that what I am trying to say, but having a difficult time doing so, is that I wish for a more carefree kind of existence. How can I get it? How do I sustain it? And, is it even possible.

I envy each of these sleeping creatures that surround me right now. I know that none of them are sleeping with out a worry in their little heads. Oh, contrar. I know that they each have their demons, and that when push comes to shove they do work toward through that day's worries.

I suppose that what I most need right this minute, is to sleep. I need to take notice of how my family is dealing with life as we speak. Tonight's agenda, of which I was not given notice, is to just shrug it all off, and zone out. Not such a bad idea.

There you have it, a less than thought out post. But one that has caused me to reflect on what can be done to replenish my soul.



  1. This post reminds me of just how tiring grieving is. So so tiring!

    And also that you are a good Dad, because despite the fact that you are going through hell, everyone in your home is feeling safe and secure in their little worlds, even your pets.

    Which leaves you.

    You know, I have an old friend who I've been seeing quite a bit of recently ... he was widowed 6 months before Cliff died, and he asked me, "have you grieved yet?" I looked at him like "whaaaat?" and I realized that with his work, his kids and his home .... he hadn't had any time for him. He managed for 2 years ... but he's at breaking point right now and opting for voluntary redundancy ... I am relieved that you are analyzing what you are going through Dan, because you have a lot on your plate.

    I'm in awe.

    I don't think I'd cope.

    Please please make time for you, every day, even if it's just for 20 minutes.

    I love you

  2. Oh Dan, I read your posts every day and I'm in awe of your words. I'm an accountant so I'm terrible at expressing myself, numbers are my gig. I just want to print this out and have people read this to understand what it's like to grieve while trying to raise children. To carry the weight of everything on your shoulders when you can barely find the strength to get out of the bed in the morning. It's a blessing and a curse at times.

    You are an amazing person and I am so grateful to you for sharing your most personal thoughts. they have helped me more than I'll ever be able to express.

    Hugs and good thoughts to you,

  3. Hey Boo, Thanks for sharing your discussions, and insight, about the delayed grieving with parents. It is so true. I think back to the various significant anniversaries, especially the one year last month, and I couldn't allow myself to really feel what I needed to feel because the kids were needing so much attention at the time. It's no wonder that I find myself falling a part at unexpected times.

    Donna, I really appreciate your sharing your thoughts with me here. Writing this blog is a strange concept for most people. I try to explain to others that I gain so much relief by writing my words each day, yet I get so much more knowing there are others out there reading them. I makes me feel a part of something bigger.

    I smiled as you described the difference between being an accountant, and my being more of an expressive person. Michael was also an accountant, so we always approached things very differently. When we first got together he was constantly creating spread sheets for everything. I would try my best to understand them, or the need for them, but would just laugh, smile, and put my arms around him. I would say to him, "honey, we are such very different creatures." I loved him, and I even loved his addiction to Excel.

    Thanks for making me smile this morning.


  4. Yeah, kind of have a love affair with Excel as well :) My husband Eddie used to always tease me about my lists and spreadsheets. I have saved the ones from our Wedding eleven years ago. It's funny how in losing Eddie I've kind of lost listing things that need to get done. I don't plan so far ahead anymore, guess a weird side effect of widowhood....
    Glad to make you smile. Thanks again for sharing so deeply.