Four Weeks Into the New Normal
A collection of random thoughts and observations from the past four weeks…
- We accumulate a lot of online accounts. I’ve been deleting most of my wife’s, mostly because I don’t want her personal information out there where it could be hacked or abused. Makes me realize how many places I’ve created logins for over the years…
- I started writing a short story I’d been thinking about toward the end. It failed miserably. I think part of the problem was that I was thinking about the story when Amy was still alive. Everything now is so different … I can’t get into the right mindset.
- So instead, I’ve started working on Terminal Peace again. Only a few days in so far, and the wordcount is pretty small, but it’s a start.
- Amy had worked for a while at Community Mental Health, but when she checked her history, she didn’t think she had quite enough to be vested for her pension. She was so frustrated to have fallen just a few months short. But after talking to her employer and her retirement system, she had actually made it, which means her pension now comes to us. It’s not huge, but it’s a monthly check, and is one more way she’ll help take care of us for the rest of my life. I wish she’d known…
- I do pretty well during the day, for the most part. I’ve got a lot to keep me busy, and that helps a lot. Nighttime is another matter. I’m still not sleeping well. I’m trying a few things to help, but I don’t expect this to really change for a while yet.
- My son and I are both attending groups at Ele’s Place, for kids who’ve lost a parent (and for the surviving parent). Only two sessions so far, so it’s too soon to really say much, but I hope it’ll help us to deal with and work through the grief.
- Finally tried to get back to karate this week, only to find class was cancelled. Dang it, I was really looking forward to punching stuff, too!
- Being a full-time single parent is rough. But I promised Amy we’d be okay, and I’m damn well gonna do the best I can to keep that promise.
- Looking at our financial situation, I may be able to work about half-time (20 hours/week) at the day job, which would give me time for everything I need to do at home and for my son, and maybe even a bit of writing time… Nothing’s finalized there yet, though.
- It all still feels unreal. The idea that she’s gone, that the part of my life where we were married is over … it’s absurd. It’s not that I expect to hear her pulling into the garage after work or anything. It’s more like that Beverly Crusher quote from Star Trek: “If there’s nothing wrong with me, there must be something wrong with the universe.” I feel like something’s wrong with the universe.
Blogging hasn’t been much of a priority. I’ve had thoughts about stuff — renaming awards, fools filing DMCA notices on themselves, the good and bad of The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance — I’ve just been using my spoons for other things. Don’t know when or if that will change. But hey, I posted something today. That’s a start, right? One more step toward the new normalcy…
Trevor
September 26, 2019 @ 4:35 pm
Thanks for the update Jim. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but we’re here, waiting for you and supporting you. Take all the time you need for you and your family, we’ll still keep buying your excellent books!
Gregory Lynn
September 26, 2019 @ 4:38 pm
When my wife passed away, I kept saying to myself that when you sign up to spend the rest of your life with someone, you don’t expect it to end when you’re 48.
We didn’t have kids. I couldn’t have taken care of a kid. I fell into a massively deep depression.
Keep an eye on your mental health. Keep an eye on your son’s. Know that in a year it will be better. It will still suck, but it will suck less.
Laura Resnick
September 26, 2019 @ 4:42 pm
Glad you and your son have each other and your network of friends, family, and support.
Glad to learn how you are doing.
J.P.
September 26, 2019 @ 4:48 pm
Wishing you and your son calmer seas after the storm you’ve been through this past year, with enough following wind to keep you both moving forward.
Jim C. Hines
September 26, 2019 @ 4:50 pm
Gregory – I think in some ways, having kids is helping to ward off the depression. It’s giving me more focus and purpose … and they both have a lot of their mother in them.
And yeah. We signed up for at least another 30 or 40 years with each other, dammit.
Annalee Flower Horne
September 26, 2019 @ 5:00 pm
Sending you and your family best wishes, Jim.
Daz
September 26, 2019 @ 5:15 pm
May I offer my somewhat belated condolences?
Anonnny
September 26, 2019 @ 6:01 pm
I wish there was some way I could help. This might sound bad, but the fact that you can’t break down does not mean that you won’t. Prepare and leave yourself a bit of buffer.
Lynn Tatro
September 26, 2019 @ 6:15 pm
When my husband died, I started a notebook and write in it things I would have said to him or shared with him and thoughts I had. My daughters added their own entries. As years went by we used it less frequently but now when we read entries it gives us a reminder of what he enjoyed our was interested in and what transpired that we had forgotten. I’m always thankful to have that notebook even now that’s is been 10 years since his passing. Stay in the present moment and breathe!
Antiqueight
September 26, 2019 @ 6:43 pm
So many hugs to the three of you and your extended family.
Deborah Makarios
September 26, 2019 @ 7:30 pm
I just want to say: you don’t owe us any of your spoons. Spend them as you darn well see fit.
Michael W Lucas
September 26, 2019 @ 7:47 pm
Sounds like you’re doing about as well as can be expected. You and your family are more important than your books. (I mean, we want the books, sure. But we’d rather you be all right.)
If there’s food on the table and everyone’s basically clean, more or less, you’re doing fine. Give yourself the time to heal. Everyone out in this skewed universe will be okay in the meantime.
M
September 26, 2019 @ 8:45 pm
Something IS wrong with the universe – it’s missing an important, beautiful person. Be kind to yourself. We’re all sending warm caring thoughts to you and your family.
Eleanor Ray
September 27, 2019 @ 12:04 am
I lost my husband when I was 42, 14 years ago. My son was three weeks out of high school. One thing we learned was that different people grieve differently– there is no timetable, no “best” way, no rules you have to follow. You do not have to compare your grief to anyone else’s (including ours), and you do not have to justify how you feel to anyone. Have your own peculiar, unique, even quirky reactions. You are human–a fine, terrible, powerless and strong thing to be. And some of us are thinking of you.
Jennifer Dian
September 27, 2019 @ 8:26 am
Death leaves great gaping holes in our lives and they’re awfully hard to fill up, but we eventually do. You can always tell there was a hole there, but the alternative is far worse. Please don’t be too hard on yourself; grief holds a lot of anger, too, and it’s better to confront it than hide it away.
Frances K R
September 27, 2019 @ 8:51 am
Everyone else has spoken on this better, but; I’m sorry, and I hope you’re as well as you can be.
Dana Lynne
September 27, 2019 @ 9:37 pm
Thank you so much for the update. I would echo what other commenters have said; that you three will grieve in your own way and in your own time. It’s great to hear from you. You are all in my thoughts, as a reader of your work.
Rainbow Greenwood
September 28, 2019 @ 2:49 am
sending love and tears <3
Shalini Latchman
September 28, 2019 @ 8:49 am
::hugs::
Thomas
September 29, 2019 @ 11:11 pm
Dude. Take time for you and your children. We’ll be here next month, next year, next reboot of an 80s franchise. Care for yourself, your family, and your friends. Sending you my support for everything you’re dealing with.
I do appreciate your random Friday posts and your humorous insights when you post them, but you come first. I’m just a rando on the Internet.
Kerry aka Trouble
September 30, 2019 @ 7:26 am
Been there, done that, as the saying goes. My husband was only 43 when he died very suddenly leaving me with a 3 year old autistic son. I couldn’t start collecting his pension until he would have been 55 (for half-rate) or 65. It does get easier to live with, just not very quickly. Take your time and remember the good times you had – start a memory book, maybe.