Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Frozen tears :( :( or - emotions suck

Yesterday was a bitch of a day.  I know it was for everyone in terms of weather, cars not starting, unexpectedly having to stay home with kids.

I made the mistake of parking behind my guy on Sunday night.  We have a one car garage which he uses. Since he can't lift his arms, it's tough to scrape snow and ice off the windows, so he gets the garage.

I parked behind him, knowing I left for work earlier Monday morning.  It occurred to me, for a nano-second, that my car wouldn't start and this wasn't a wise idea.  My car is new, 2012, so why wouldn't it start?  I got home at 9:30 Sunday night - it'd start.

It wasn't a wise idea.  My car didn't start.

Luther came out to help.  Put the car in neutral, pushed it back several feet so he could get out.

Remember, his arms don't work.  Driving is tough enough - although when he's takes a straight route (like to work), it's all pretty good.  (Sidebar:  he smokes.  I hate that he smokes but I haven't really had the heart to bug him like I used to.  Let him have this vice, right?  Anyways, his arms don't work.  He can't lift them so he can't drive and smoke.  I see this as a little, although morbid, victory)

Back to f*cking frigid yesterday.  He had to get his truck out of the garage.  We couldn't push my car back any more so he had to go back and forth, back and forth, to squeeze it out of the garage.

I had a tough time opening the hood  but I couldn't remember the word "hood".  I knew trunk.  I kept thinking lid.  I couldn't find the button or latch or whatever to open the hood.  I got out the manual and couldn't find "lid".

When I looked up to see how he was doing, he could barely get his arms up.  He put his head down on the steering wheel and stopped.  It was so cold. He couldn't get his right arm up on the steering wheel.  I couldn't remember the word "hood".  Why did I park behind him?  When was disability going to kick in?  A million thoughts.  Beating myself up.  My heart cracking for him.

At that moment, the flood gates opened.  I couldn't stop crying.  Hard.

I got out of the car and the tears froze on my face and it hurt so I stopped crying.  What was the point, at that moment?

We got the car started and went back inside.  He sat down, he was so cold.  He has no muscles to keep him warm.  I hugged him and we both started crying.  We knew this was a moment.  The reality of what's to come.  Take nothing for granted.  Figure out plan B.  And plan C and D for that matter.

He didn't go to work yesterday.  That whole energy management thing.  All of his energy was expended that morning helping me.

Letting the wall down, letting the tears out, that was my energy management issue.  I was out of it for the rest of the day.  Fortunately, it was slow at work and I could regroup a little but I felt shallow, if that makes sense?  Drained.

I know it's that whole adjustment I keep talking about.  At some point I have to get used to this.  Numb to it?  I don't know.  I don't want to be numb.  I just don't want to be wiped out every time I shed a tear.  And I have a feeling there are more tears to come...


  1. Lynn,
    Ive been thinking about you a lot since Ann shared your story. You are doing an eloquent job of sharing a hard story.
    Patty Radoc

  2. Hi Patty. Thanks for the thoughts, we appreciate it!