singerinthedark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
singerinthedark) wrote2005-03-27 11:50 pm
singerinthedark) wrote2005-03-27 11:50 pm
Coping
I just got back about two hours ago from Seattle. This has been a long weekend.
My family and I drove up in my Dad's truck (it has four doors, but it was still cramped). It took us a long time to get up to Matt's family's home. For one thing, my parents didn't get out of the house until 7:00, and we didn't get out of Davis until 9:00 am. Then we kept making lots of long stops. I was anxious to get up and hang out with Matt's family, but my parents were kinda procrastinating. I'm not saying I didn't also encourage stops. My right knee tends to get cramped on long trips because of an injury. I was sooo tired and whiny by the time we got there... Moreover, my Dad was partially falling asleep while driving, but neither my Mom or I could take over. It was a scary ride up.
Saturday was the funeral. They picked a beautiful cemetery to bury Matt's ashes. On sunny days, you can see Mt. Rainier. However, it wasn't sunny on Sunday. Matt's brothers and I went in garb. Well, I went in partial garb, as my ren faire costume needs work when I have time. However, I wore the cloak that Matt made me our first Christmas as a couple, and his horns. Matt's parents had a Unitarian minister come and give the blessing. My Mom was worried that the minister would think I was satanist or something because of the horns. I had to explain to her the doctrine of the Unitarian church... It was cute. A local Celtic group from the church came and played. The band got a little emotional, so they weren't all that great. I have to hand it to them, though, it's hard to play pennywhistle and cry at the same time. The minister said some wonderful things about Matthew. He had never met Matt, but I got the feeling that he spent a lot of time with his family getting to know him through stories. There was a picture on display of Matt at the Grand Canyon. It's my favorite picture of him, with his eyes closed, enjoying the sunset and his surroundings, with the Grand Canyon as the backdrop.
During a moment of silence, I placed a pair of Groucho Marx glasses that I found in our costume box near Matt's picture. I was hoping that no one would notice until the moment of silence was over, but Matt's cousins and one of his aunts giggled and gave me away...
When they buried him, Matt was inturned with his home made pocket fix-it kit that he always had on him, the Groucho Marx glasses, and a ten-sided die his cousin brought for him. (Hey, warriors are buried with their swords, gamers are buried with their dice. It makes sense.)
Afterwords, we went back to Matt's family's house for food and conversation. It was nice. His father's co-workers set up the food and everything, and we had a nice time talking over lunch. I got to meet one of Matt's high school buddies who came to the house dressed as a samurai with bunny ears. (Usagi Yojimbo maybe? I never got the full story.) I also hung out with Matt's cousin and his best friend from grade school, S. S. is a good guy. Matt and S. were very, very close. They talked at least once a week, but more like two or three times a week. Matt's death has been very hard on him, as he never got a chance to come down and see Matt while he was in the hospital. Part of me thinks that S. would have had a bit more closure if he had that opportunity, but part of me is happy that he didn't see Matt after the accident.
It still seems unreal. There was a burial, but no coffin, no body. I keep waiting for Matt to show up and give me a big hug so that I can smack him for putting us all through such a rotten prank. I know that's not going to happen. I have a (relatively) firm grasp on reality. I've just hit that point where, it hurts so badly, because I'm now recognizing that this is the longest time I'll ever be separated from Matt physically. I've passed the 2 1/2 week marker, and from now on I'm on my own. He's not coming back. A part of me is very accepting of that. However, the rest of me is not too happy with the current arrangement. I just keep coming back to all of our plans, the visions I had of what our kids would be like, what he was going to look like as a cute old man drag-racing with me in our souped-up wheelchairs at the retirement home. I guess what hurts the most is that, the last few months, I've been getting baby-crazy. I'm not really ready to be a Mom, but I really wanted to be a parent with Matt. I really wanted to have his kids...
I'm staying with my parents for a few days. This is a good thing and a bad thing. The good part is that my mom's office needs some help, and they're going to pay me a bit more than my regular job does, so I'm working with them. This'll give me a little more money to pay for the next couple of months (rent, food, and classes at the experimental college to keep me busy). This also gives me a chance to hang out with my family, which I enjoy. The bad thing is that, while I love my parents dearly, they're dealing with this situation by coddling me, which is starting to get on my nerves. They're kinda putting pressure on me to move back in with them. My parents are now so afraid of losing me they just keep pulling on me back to them. And, while I understand the panic all of this has triggered in their brains, I need a little space to deal with this huge change in my life. I am certain that by the end of my visit I will be so very, very happy to go home.
I was actually kind of disappointed to leave Matt's family so quickly. Mom needed to work and I am going in with her. However, I just feel like they need the love and support right now. I hope they know that my thoughts are with them this week. And if they don't, they will when I e-mail them in a day or so.
Well, it's late and I'm going to get some sleep. I am emotionally, spiritually, and physically tired. I'll write more tomorrow perhaps. Goodnight.
My family and I drove up in my Dad's truck (it has four doors, but it was still cramped). It took us a long time to get up to Matt's family's home. For one thing, my parents didn't get out of the house until 7:00, and we didn't get out of Davis until 9:00 am. Then we kept making lots of long stops. I was anxious to get up and hang out with Matt's family, but my parents were kinda procrastinating. I'm not saying I didn't also encourage stops. My right knee tends to get cramped on long trips because of an injury. I was sooo tired and whiny by the time we got there... Moreover, my Dad was partially falling asleep while driving, but neither my Mom or I could take over. It was a scary ride up.
Saturday was the funeral. They picked a beautiful cemetery to bury Matt's ashes. On sunny days, you can see Mt. Rainier. However, it wasn't sunny on Sunday. Matt's brothers and I went in garb. Well, I went in partial garb, as my ren faire costume needs work when I have time. However, I wore the cloak that Matt made me our first Christmas as a couple, and his horns. Matt's parents had a Unitarian minister come and give the blessing. My Mom was worried that the minister would think I was satanist or something because of the horns. I had to explain to her the doctrine of the Unitarian church... It was cute. A local Celtic group from the church came and played. The band got a little emotional, so they weren't all that great. I have to hand it to them, though, it's hard to play pennywhistle and cry at the same time. The minister said some wonderful things about Matthew. He had never met Matt, but I got the feeling that he spent a lot of time with his family getting to know him through stories. There was a picture on display of Matt at the Grand Canyon. It's my favorite picture of him, with his eyes closed, enjoying the sunset and his surroundings, with the Grand Canyon as the backdrop.
During a moment of silence, I placed a pair of Groucho Marx glasses that I found in our costume box near Matt's picture. I was hoping that no one would notice until the moment of silence was over, but Matt's cousins and one of his aunts giggled and gave me away...
When they buried him, Matt was inturned with his home made pocket fix-it kit that he always had on him, the Groucho Marx glasses, and a ten-sided die his cousin brought for him. (Hey, warriors are buried with their swords, gamers are buried with their dice. It makes sense.)
Afterwords, we went back to Matt's family's house for food and conversation. It was nice. His father's co-workers set up the food and everything, and we had a nice time talking over lunch. I got to meet one of Matt's high school buddies who came to the house dressed as a samurai with bunny ears. (Usagi Yojimbo maybe? I never got the full story.) I also hung out with Matt's cousin and his best friend from grade school, S. S. is a good guy. Matt and S. were very, very close. They talked at least once a week, but more like two or three times a week. Matt's death has been very hard on him, as he never got a chance to come down and see Matt while he was in the hospital. Part of me thinks that S. would have had a bit more closure if he had that opportunity, but part of me is happy that he didn't see Matt after the accident.
It still seems unreal. There was a burial, but no coffin, no body. I keep waiting for Matt to show up and give me a big hug so that I can smack him for putting us all through such a rotten prank. I know that's not going to happen. I have a (relatively) firm grasp on reality. I've just hit that point where, it hurts so badly, because I'm now recognizing that this is the longest time I'll ever be separated from Matt physically. I've passed the 2 1/2 week marker, and from now on I'm on my own. He's not coming back. A part of me is very accepting of that. However, the rest of me is not too happy with the current arrangement. I just keep coming back to all of our plans, the visions I had of what our kids would be like, what he was going to look like as a cute old man drag-racing with me in our souped-up wheelchairs at the retirement home. I guess what hurts the most is that, the last few months, I've been getting baby-crazy. I'm not really ready to be a Mom, but I really wanted to be a parent with Matt. I really wanted to have his kids...
I'm staying with my parents for a few days. This is a good thing and a bad thing. The good part is that my mom's office needs some help, and they're going to pay me a bit more than my regular job does, so I'm working with them. This'll give me a little more money to pay for the next couple of months (rent, food, and classes at the experimental college to keep me busy). This also gives me a chance to hang out with my family, which I enjoy. The bad thing is that, while I love my parents dearly, they're dealing with this situation by coddling me, which is starting to get on my nerves. They're kinda putting pressure on me to move back in with them. My parents are now so afraid of losing me they just keep pulling on me back to them. And, while I understand the panic all of this has triggered in their brains, I need a little space to deal with this huge change in my life. I am certain that by the end of my visit I will be so very, very happy to go home.
I was actually kind of disappointed to leave Matt's family so quickly. Mom needed to work and I am going in with her. However, I just feel like they need the love and support right now. I hope they know that my thoughts are with them this week. And if they don't, they will when I e-mail them in a day or so.
Well, it's late and I'm going to get some sleep. I am emotionally, spiritually, and physically tired. I'll write more tomorrow perhaps. Goodnight.
no subject
and is it possible to tell your parents that you love them but they are smothering you?
anyhow speaking of smothering *hugs*
call me any time day or night you need/want to talk.
no subject