Sleep eludes me

After lying in bed tossing and turning for hours, I’ve finally climbed out of bed if for nothing else, a change of environment. This reminds me of the night I started this blog. Just like then, sleep doesn’t come. What does come are tears. They flow surprisingly free tonight and what is different this time is that I let them. Thoughts and images of Al keep flooding my mind.

I can see him holding Isla and the look of pride and joy on his face as he greets his granddaughter on the day of her birth. I see him packing up the Bronco at 3am for a deer hunting trip and how he would laugh when Dodger always jumped in the back seat and wouldn’t get out for hours in fear he would get left behind. I see him lying under that same Bronco doing some vehicle maintenance or repair, wearing those old jeans and blue work shirt covered in grease and oil. I see his beaming face as he is by my side as each of our three children enter the world and draw their first breaths. I see him standing over the stove making the Thanksgiving gravy with a glass of wine by his side. I see him stapling a sheet over the hallway opening in to the living room so the kids wouldn’t see what Santa had left on Christmas morning until we could get in to position to see their little faces light up. I see him with Cholla in his lap as that silly little Boxer snuggled in his arms. I see him practicing his putting and chipping in the living room. I see him by Brian’s pool enjoying a summer Sunday afternoon with his best friend and family laughing and teasing. I see him in his recliner content to spend the entire day watching golf. I see him on the sidelines, his face glowing with pride, as Marshall tears it up on the football field with Alison and Lesley cheering on the sidelines in their orange cheerleading uniforms. I see the serious look on his face and stern warning of silence as we get on the “shortcut” between Gila Bend and Buckeye. I see the happiness on his face as Marshall arrives in the early morning and Al grabs his golf clubs and heads out the door for father/son time. I see the tears fall during Alison’s wedding rehearsal in the park as he walks her down the “aisle”. I see the pride in his face when Lesley walks across the stage to receive her high school diploma. I see the sadness in his eyes when we leave his father in California after a visit but also hear the love in his voice when he calls his dad for their frequent phone calls.

You know, there really wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for that man. He didn’t frequently express his deep unfaltering love for me TO me but I can’t even count the times when I’d meet one of Al’s friends, coworkers or acquaintances for the first time and that person would tell me how Al gushes about his love for me and how I am his angel. That he would probably not be in this world if it weren’t for me. In the past year or so before Al left us, he told me that one of his greatest fears is that I would die before him and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to go on without me.

So I guess it’s a bit of a blessing he passed first although way too soon. I still feel robbed to some degree. Robbed of what were to be the best years of our lives. Our kids are grown and are responsible, upstanding adults who will do well in life and love. We did our jobs and this time was to be ours. It was only for a brief time that this house that once held a noisy, fun family became our quiet, peaceful home. The place we looked forward to having family gatherings and celebrations.

I wish I could hear his laugh, feel his touch and see his face still. I miss him so much that it physically hurts. It’s a pain I suppose anyone who’s truly loved someone feels at some point. I wait for the day this ache becomes bearable and the tears no longer flow.