Today I completed my last task as Joe's widow. We are coming up on four years and until today my checking account still had his name on it. My name was still Mabrey on it. I couldn't bring myself to take them his death certificate until a few months ago. Even after they had it I wasn't ready to take him off the account. I wanted to keep him connected to it. I'm not sure if it was such a big deal to me just because it was the very last thing I had to do or what.
Today I walked into the bank to do something completely different and while I was there they told me they needed my signature to remove him. I was out of time. I stood there and had tears rolling down my face while I signed my new name removing him from the account we shared. I thank the ladies there for being so kind to me while I made a utter fool of myself.
Who knew what an emotional attachment we could have to an account. :-) Its been a very emotional day for me. Actually it's been an emotional week, month even. Early this month I found myself driving the same route I took the day Joe had his heart attack and drove right by the hospital. It was hard, I was remembering talking to my sister on the phone on the way there. We were discussing possibilities of what could have happened (all I knew was there had been an "incident") so we were thinking someone may have hit him. Or perhaps he got caught in the truck. Any number of things. Never dreaming he'd had a heart attack. I was thinking all these things and doing a bit of crying while remembering.
Wednesday my step-dad had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital. I went there to be with my mom, again unsure of what I was walking into. We weren't sure at the time if it was an actual heart attack or what. I walked in his room to hear that not only did he have a heart attack, but he flat-lined in the ER. They shocked him and got his heart beating again. They rushed him to the cath lab where they put a stint in his heart. I lost it and was sobbing. It was so surreal, like being in the ER with Joe all over again. I spent the night with my mom. The next day the doctor came in and informed us that 30 minutes later and dad wouldn't have made it. He told us that not only did he flat-line in the ER but again on the table while they were putting the stint in.
This has been so rough on all of us. I know this isn't about me at all, but I'm reliving times with doctors in the hospital with Joe and I can't help but ask, why. Why can they save some heart attack patients but not others. Why was he taken from us at 41? Why are his children growing up without him?
I sit here and write this all the while hearing those words in my head "life is for the living". Joe is in a better place. He's made it, he finished his race. His time had come and God called him home. We aren't promised tomorrow. I think all these things with tears flowing down my face.
It's been four years this month since Joe had his heart attack and I miss him fiercely. I have been able to move on. I am remarried and have a new beautiful baby boy. But that doesn't diminish my love, or feelings of loss and grief for Joe. There are days I want to give up, there are days I feel like there is a knot in the center of my chest and a constant burning behind my eyes. But there are also days of extreme happiness, where I think how lucky I am to get a second chance at life.
Remember friend, grief is like the ocean. It comes in waves, some waves just run across your feet and some knock you flat with no warning. We still need to enjoy the small ones and just know a big one could be on the way.
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