This Tuesday started out with an overdraft charge in my checking account (still trying to figure that one out), Penny puking all over my carpeting 10 minutes before having to leave for work (DISGUSTING), and being in a real shitty mood. I heard Martina McBride's version of Silent Night on the radio on my way to work and cried buckets. That song always does me in, but today it was a million times worse. And I can't figure out why the Siri doesn't work in my car (hands free stuff) all of a sudden (which is trivial, I know but today it set me over the edge). It's Tuesday. And as much as I always taught my girls, when having a bad day, "Momma says some days are like that, even in Australia." (thanks Alexander), I can't shake the complete disdain for Tuesdays.
So, in addition to all that, I've been struggling a lot with some inner demons regarding Billy and where I (honestly) fit into his life. Billy and I had a 'different' kind of relationship. I came into his life when he was older, so it wasn't a typical stepparent/stepkid (hate those terms) kind of relationship where we had to 'figure' each other out. I never felt resented or disliked as his stepmom (and if he did feel that way, I NEVER felt it) but due to the physical distance that always separated us, time spent together was always far and few between. My most treasured memory of time spent JUST with Billy happened on our trip to New Orleans for his 29th Mardi Gras birthday. We shared a great morning walking the French Quarter and having breakfast, just the two of us. I wish I could go back to that time...... When he moved to California, my time spent with him became non-existent. It was so much easier for his dad to go visit him (being that he works for himself and could take the time - unlike me, who had to be careful of time taken off during the school year). Sure we made plans, and Billy always asked when I was coming out so he could show me Cali, but for one reason or another, I never made that happen. Enter regret.
I always tried to make sure that he knew where he stood in our lives, in MY life. I always tried to make sure he knew how proud I was to call him 'son'. I always tried to make sure he knew just how much I loved his dad, because if ANYONE loved his dad more than I did, it was Billy. But was it enough? Was it enough?
Being Billy's 'stepmom' was an easy role to have in his life. I always respected the fact that he had a mom (and a good one, too) and so I never ever pretended to be something I wasn't. I was always fully aware that I was NOT his mom. Bill and I would discuss Billy things and I could always give Bill my opinion, advice, suggestions, but ultimately, my opinions were just that. Opinions. I was able to offer my advice to Billy if and when he'd come to me with a situation. That didn't happen often, but when it did, I remember riding Cloud 9. Random texts would put me in a good mood for days!!! I miss that. I miss the outreach. I miss texts and check ins. I miss the kid.
The love and pride in my heart for him was immense. IS immense. It was a different love for a child. I was fully aware I didn't give birth to him, but my goodness did I love him as my own, and in our family, my own two daughters referred to him as 'their brother'. He was part of our family and I often wonder I did enough to make him feel that. It's a constant struggle for me right now. I struggle with if I was enough for him. Did I do a good enough job as his stepmom for him to never question my intentions or my feelings towards him or where he fit with us? I'm pretty sure this all stems from some events that took place in the weeks after Billy passed away, where my own feelings felt challenged and disregarded. It could also stem from really wishing I could get a response from all the texts I've been sending. I miss seeing 'Love ya 2' come back to me after sending a text. I've stopped texting (as much) because the lack of response has been tough. I seriously keep checking my phone, expecting SOMETHING back. ANYTHING. That void is crippling. I know he's not there, but I want him to be. And perhaps it's because Thanksgiving is two days away, and I'm not sure I'm ready for the holidays to arrive because it will be 'different' this year. My heart is just not ready for any of it, and I don't know that it ever will be ready.
Perhaps this is all part of the grieving process. Perhaps these doubts that have crept in are all part of losing a part of our lives. Perhaps I need to stop replaying some of the events of the past 11 weeks. Perhaps. Being stuck in your own thoughts is tough to navigate out of. Today, my own head is my worst enemy. I know what's in my head and heart but uncertainty has become my demon today and it is bringing me down.
I'm going to try to follow the quote image above....it's a wonderful twofold reminder for me and I have to do better at remembering. I try not to cry because the sun (son) is gone....I need to look to the stars and remember what a bright guiding star we have now. I find some comfort in that and in that comfort there is hope.
I know I'll rise above and will be ok as I work through all this. If you've taken the time to read this rambling post, THANK YOU. As I always say, it's so much easier to write my feelings than speak them.
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