Grieving A Loss

There is a heaviness in my chest - my heart is aching and my stomach is turning. 

I can feel the anxiety building up deep inside my solar plexus. Indistinctly, I close my eyes like I can block out reality. I take a few cleansing breaths trying to recover some sort of serenity.

My nose and eyes are tingling as I try to push back the tears. Why? I let the flood gates open. I sob loudly and violently.

This has been my reality for the last few months. I am grieving a loss.

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Friday June 21, 2013. I was actually feeling pretty good considering the circumstances. I was smiling and I could hear my Honey Bunny chattering happily with my Mom as they were getting out of the van behind me. I moved quickly to unlock the front door.

There it was. The paper I had been dreading for the last three weeks.

The notice from the sheriff as directed by the bank that holds my mortgage. The notice to vacate the premises on or before Friday June 28th at 8:30 am.

The fat lady was singing.

I felt my heart drop. I blinked slowly, pulled the notice off the door and walked through the house to sit out on the dec in the backyard - my backyard. Tears swelled then slowly rolled down my cheeks. 

There were no coherent thoughts just the feeling of overwhelming loss. And the tears kept coming - faster and faster.

Mom quietly sat down beside me.

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I had tried to prepare myself for this moment but I kept thinking everything was going to be okay and it would all work out in the end.

This is my house. My home for ten years. This was the only place that felt like home since I eighteen years old.

This was the only home that my Honey Bunny has ever known. She loves her home. 

I remember her telling me that she was grateful for the roof because it kept us dry when it was raining. 

She waited all winter for me to clean out the pool and fill it up so she could swim. 

She is such a little fish. She was only three years old when she learned how to swim under the water across the width of the pool. She practically lives in the pool all summer.

The back yard was one of my favorite places to be too. I loved the deck. It was covered so we could sit out back when it rained. It was so beautiful out there listening to the pitter patter of the rain drops hitting the roof.

Dinosaur eggs and bones.

Faith and I loved playing in the yard. One summer we had such fun digging for dinosaur bones and eggs. Oh and all the mud pies we shared.

Playing with bubbles, chalk . . . the birthday parties . . . the snowmen and snow forts and blanket tents. . .

My flowers! No not my flowers too - daisies, purple cone flowers, lilies .... My strawberries, chives, onions, ferns and rhubarb plant. Gifts from my daughters, husband and friends. 

Oh, and I can't forget the surprise unknown crop that magically sprouted up in our garden last summer.

We kept trying to figure out what was growing in our garden. It turned out to be decorative gourds. My granddaughters loved cutting them off the vine and displaying them on the window sill.

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Everyone keeps saying it's just a house but it's feels like so much more to me.

This house is my home and it has been home for ten years. 

Have you ever lived some where that just never felt like home? I have. Until I moved into this house.

Of course there are so many memories attached to this house. It's like our house is part of the family.

It also feels like an extension of me. We did so much work here. I picked out the flooring, all the paint colours, the base boards, trim and doors. I picked all the light fixtures. 

We installed a new bath tub, sinks, faucets, vanities, light switches. I think we replaced just about everything in the house - except the kitchen cabinets.

I know it is a matter of pride. How could I not feel good about owning my house. We worked and saved for this house. We did it together.

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I don't know how many times I have been told that one door closes and two open. That does not console me one bit.

The pain is so intense. I can only compare it to breaking up with my high school sweet heart. I grieved for six months - til I met someone new.

I think I just need to grieve my loss and time will heal the part of me that is broken.

I hope in time that I will be able to forgive myself - I let my family down.

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How did we get here? 

It was a long time coming, starting almost six years ago. That is when my husband was injured at work.

Unfortunately it took almost six years for him to be diagnosed.

Six years, trying to figure out why he couldn't stay at a job more than a couple of weeks. 

Six years, thinking this job is the one that he will stay at and everything will be okay again.

Six years struggling financially because everything we had was based on two incomes.

How would your family do if your household income dropped by fifty percent or more? 

I cashed in my RRSPs, spent my savings, maxed out our credit cards just to get by.

I couldn't understand why he would just walk off the job. It made me so angry. Until he was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

To be honest, I can't completely understand his PTSD. I try. He says that it didn't happen to me and I could never understand what he is going through. That might be true but I do know what it has done to our lives.

We have lost everything.

We are homeless and our family is spread out.

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Where do we go from here?

I can't go there yet. I have not grieved enough yet. The wound is still too raw. I need just a little time.

I am grateful for my Honey Bunny because she is the reason I get up and go every day. With out her I'm not sure I would find the strength.

I'd like to thank Pamela Dale. Her words keep ringing in my ears. Will I be a victim or victorious? 

I will victorious. Just not today.

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