How are we doing?

This seems a popular question right now. I have a lot of messages I've been putting off, asking this very thing. The answer isn't exactly simple, though, you know? We're fine, could sum it up. Overall we're just fine. And we'll get better than that, too. I find that my life is moving forward easily, much easier than I think people think it "should." It hasn't been a month yet, but I am definitely ready for the rest of my life. I remember when all this started, reading on lung cancer support boards about widows who were dating again already after just a few months, or even weeks and thinking, wow. Really? But you know what, now that I'm living it myself, I can see it. Karl as the man I married, as a husband, was gone emotionally and intimately months ago. Nearly a year, really. I know that for those of you who weren't here to see how things unfolded in person, up close and on a day-to-day basis that might seem cold, but it's really not. A once every few months visit shows you very little about the reality of things, and it also means you'll have a harder time moving on. But now, life does go on. It has to. I had two years to come to terms with this, and the last few months really drilled it in. And there is nothing that will truly prepare you for losing someone like that, even the pain they're in and the personality changes and the dementia, but I think once the initial shock wore off, I was more prepared to move on and get on with life than if he had died back when he was initially diagnosed, like doctors thought he would. I'm so glad I had that two years, too. And I think for this reason, the kids are moving on easier, too. Luke and Olivia are nearly back to normal. Olivia still kind of clings to things that remind her, and she's been a little easy to set off, but her routines are mostly normal now, and she's fairly agreeable again. As agreeable as Olivia gets, anyway...  Luke got broody for awhile, but he's always been a little bit broody. He's doing his normal things again, too. Back to reading, video games, and being geeky. Seth is angry. But even that is calming down. He seems to have plateaued now, where we're having meltdowns and anger but it's not constant anymore. I have an appointment with his dr. next week to discuss meds to help him cope

 I changed the blog title from Living with, to Living After Lung Cancer. We're not living with it anymore. It's still affecting every day of our lives, though. So now we focus on moving past it. What comes next? Life comes next, whether we want it to or not, it goes on. Personally, I want it to.

 It hit me last night, laying in bed next to my sleeping six year old... I am a single mom. Holy crap. TONI is a single mom. This is not how it was supposed to be. Whose idea was it to leave me in charge by myself? They need to be fired. I go two months without remembering to pay the electricity. I leave the oven on for 24 hours. I take three hour naps. I spend as much time playing video games as the kids do. I can't be in charge by myself.

 And then the sudden panic subsided and I realized that I've basically been a single mom for the last seven months anyway. My partner has been gone for awhile, and mostly all he did was bark out meaningless things, trying to be relevant. And I feel almost mean for saying that but it's true. I would back him up when I could but more often than not he was unreasonable. He took as much supervising -- more in the end -- than the kids.

 And now, I don't have to constantly be on top of whether the man is dealing okay with the kids, whether the kids are okay with him, leaving someone with him so I can go buy food, making sure the kids, who just want to be normal kids, aren't playing too much in the house because it was a lot of stress on Karl.

 And I realized how free I suddenly am. I can buy what I want and I don't have to take anyone else's opinion into consideration. I can take the kids out wherever I want and I don't have to worry about whether another adult in the houe is up to it, is in the mood for it, will feel left out if I go without him, or can't be left at all.

 I don't have to follow anyone else's timeline. I can do this single mom thing for as long as I want. Or I can start dating tomorrow. I can get another PUPPY! Okay, no. No more dogs. But you get the idea.

 Ideally, I'd have kept Karl forever. I would have him here and healthy and raising our kids together. But since that obviously isn't an option, I'm going to take each day and live it as fully as I can, on my own time and my own terms, not anyone else's.

The memorial service was on the 7th. It went alright, except I felt like I was on display all day. I don't like that. I'm more of a background kind of girl. And if anyone else tells me how sorry they are, my head will pop.

 Now I have a dead man in my closet. Well, his ashes anyway. This is not an idea I'm comfortable with. I also have the rod from his leg, which is going to Karl's brother, Chris, because Chris is weird. (Hi Chris.)

 Between family and friends and people they knew, I got enough money in sympathy cards and such that I don't have to worry about my bills this month, which is such a load off my shoulders. I was very, very worried about it. I also have enough to buy my kids some summer clothes, which is awesome because they all seem to have hit a growth spurt this month and Olivia's shirts are all way short on her. The boys are fine on shirts but they have NO shorts, and I think I'll get them each a pair of crocs, too. And boxers.

 The kids are all dealing in their own ways, still. Seth is having control issues. He has outbursts, and is constantly on edge and hyper. He's gotten a tad better, but I am gong to get him in to Hospice's bereavement counselor this week, I think. Luke is broody but that's not a huge change from normal Luke. He's my broody boy. Olivia is very cheerful. She is dealing best. I was worried at first because it seemed she was completely avoiding the topic of Karl. But now she's able to talk about him and handle it, and I'm so not worried about her. She accepts that he's dead, and not coming back. She misses him, but she isn't having too much trouble handling it.

 I miss him. I miss him so much. I was browsing the pictures in a friend's phone earlier and found one of Karl from halloween, dressed up as a zombie (I did an excellent job on his makeup, because I'm awesome tyvm) and I can't believe he was that healthy just 8 months ago. He wasn't even using the walker yet then. His pain was almost non-existent. I went through awhile where when I thought of him, all I could see was the way he looked in the last two days, but now I'm able to see his healthy face in my head again and it's nice to be able to have that. I took my ring off within a few days, because it made me hurt. I remember the day he gave it to me, and he handpicked it himself just for me. So I put it away. I tucked it into my trinket box next to his wedding band.

 Tomorrow I can pick up the death certificate. I found out we'll get $1440 a month in survivor benefits for the kids, which is more than enough to pay my bills. I don't have to work this summer. I feel so blessed and lucky to know I'll be able to be here with my kids to help ease this transition! I'll be able to take them out to do things! Trips to the park! To the library! We haven't been able to do things in months, since Karl started getting so bad. I feel like we have so much freedom now. Like we've all just been released from prison.

 We got out Friday. Greg came in for the funeral ans stayed the weekend, so Friday we took the kids to the park and played ball and tag and on the playground for a few hours and it was good. Seth was on edge and the kids fought like cats and dogs, but they'll get better. Time will fix all of us.

Today is my 7th wedding anniversary. Instead of planning a nice dinner and night aoone with my husband, I went and arranged his memorial service, and, at the funeral director's suggestion, set up an "in lieu of flowers" account with my bank.

it wasn't as rough of a day as it sounds. My emotions have been much more stable today than they have been since Friday. I got kind of weepy a few times but no all-out meltdowns. And for the first time since Karl died, I was able to eat a real meal and hold it down, too. Progress!

Olivia is in denial. She avoids the subject if her dad at all costs. When pressed she shows little emotion. I suppose she'll let it out when she's ready. The boys are letting it out at least. Luke is weepy, Seth is having angry outbursts and has decided that all repigion is a lie, there is no God, and prayer is a waste of time. I suppose to a 9 year old who just spent two years begging God to save his dad only to have it end this way, faith is hard to hang on to. I know he's been having doubts about God for some time, but Karl's death really cemented it in his mind.

 I completely lost it at the 24 hour mark last night. I was looking through our wedding album and Olivia's baby book, which has pictures of him holding her on the day she was born. He was so happy and so healthy and so handsome and it breaks my heart to remember the way he looked for the last week, and how much cancer aged him.

  I said I was ready for it. I thought I was beyond this kind of grief at this point. I thought I'd done my grieving before he even died, over the past six months since the real decline started. I was stupid. There is no being "ready" for this, no matter how sick he was or how long he'd been sick. It doesn't matter that he was really just a shell of the man I married, it still hurts like someone poured cement into my stomach. I can't eat and I can't think and I don't want to see anyone or do anything.

 But even with all of this, there is also relief. My life no longer revloves around him, and though I feel empty without something to orbit, I also feel less pressure, less stress, and less desperation.

I know this feeling will pass and life will move forward, and I'll feel better. My heart will heal, and things will be okay. My kids and I will find normal and our lives can finally go on, after two years of them revolving around cancer. I'm excited for this, even while I grieve.

Karl passed tonight just after 7. I was there, holding his hand, crying.
I don't know what to feel. I feel everything. Shock and grief and hyper and relief and disbelief. Like, my whole life has revolved around this for two years, and now it's gone. I have nothing to orbit.
I want to bounce on the bed, and curl up in a ball and cry, and throw every breakable item in my cupboard at a wall, and have a bottle of wine, and dig a big hole, and bang my head into my desk all at once.
What I do NOT want is company. Except for a very few select friends and family, I just want everyone else to stay away. And I think I'm perfectly entitled to do this alone if I want, if I need to. I don't have it in me to comfort anyone other than my kids, or to be comforted, either.