Balancing Act...

I am standing on the precipice of my life. My arms are outstretched wide for balance, my toes are curled over the edge, trying to hang on. I can feel the winds of my past circling behind me and the abyss of the future in the darkness below. I do not know if I can catch myself before falling. I only know that I am trying. I am trying to keep all of my balls in the air. I am trying not to slide over the edge. As I stand there, I can feel the storm pushing against me. I can see things edge past me and fall over the edge. Our dreams, our plans, our future, our security, our children's innocense. I am powerless to stop them, as one by one they slip away. I try to think only of today, or as far ahead as the end of the week, but no further. When I think too far in advance, I can feel the panic rising. I feel the pain, the sorrow, the grief and the reality start to overtake me. I push them back and try to stay focused, to stay balanced.I am not planning vacations or holidays, cannot fathom these things. So many people love him, miss him, and share in our grief. They only understand so much. Even those closest to us cannot grasp the depth. They try, they feel the loss, the sorrow, but there are places that I have been that they cannot travel. He is not a part of our life, he is the center of our life. He is what balances us, makes us whole. I sleep in the bed with the indent of his head still on the pillow next to me. His clothes hang next to mine in the closet. His pictures and awards hang in the hall. His hockey bag lies next to the back door. His garage is filled with his tools and carefully labeled boxes. His boats and kayaks and tractor all in the yard, gently being covered with leaves. His vitamins are lined up on top of the fridge. He is my partner, my husband, my spouse and we have been together for 20 years this month. Everything that he loves resides in this house. I see it all everyday, live with it everyday. I also have to take care of the banking, the finances, the children, the house, the cars, the yard, the dishes, the laundry, the cooking the cleaning, the transporting of children, the stories, the homework, the night time rituals, unloading the car, preparing for the next day, school activities, after school activities, all on my own. The children are 3 & 5 young enough to still be needy, and not old enough to understand why my time and attention cannot stretch everywhere at once. They do not understand the driving is exhausting. I spend all week with them, and all weekend with him. We come home in time for a bath before bed and head into our next week first thing in the morning. I field calls from the hosptial, the insurance, and the attorney. It is the reality. It can be no different. I understand that. There is a price to paid however. It means that my feelings and emotions are on the surface of my skin. It becomes almost physically painful to feel the emotions of other push against it. And when those emotions are their own pain and fears it becomes almost unbearable in my skin. I cannot bear the responsibility for those feelings. I am responsible for my children, to see them through this as unscathed as they can be. I already feel my guts twist when I see another child call out "daddy" and run to her father, and I see H, her head snap around at the sound, her eyes quietly watchful. I feel her loss, their loss, his loss. I carry it around with my own. It is grueling, it is exhausting, and I stand at the edge trying to balance.