Uncomfortable

People have mentioned to me how afraid they have been to speak to me recently about John... John's death... or to even speak to me at all.

This is definitely not the case it should be.

In what other time in my life do I need people more?

Why of all times would people want to avoid me?

I lost the love of my life. I don't want to lose anyone else.



Books said I will. They said people will start showing their true colors. Because to many people... death is still a tabu thing in their life. Many people don't experience death at such a young age as myself. Most won't experience this extreme loss until furthur into their lives. And then they will be surronded by more people that have the experience. I don't have that same support. I am 26. I lost my fiance'. I am young. I had a future ahead of me.

People want to avoid things that are unpleasant. So, people will tend to avoid me. I feel like others may feel like my experience with death will taint their perfect little lives. An interuption they can't deal with right now. They feel like "well, there is nothing I can do."

They are right... somewhat.

They can't give me what i long for the most. They can't return John. They can't suture up my heart and have it completely heal.

But, not even I can do that.

Is this a reason for people to give up?

Because it's uncomfortable?

Life is UNCOMFORTABLE. It's not easy and there are struggles. My hope is that when people start feeling like "this isn't easy... talking to her..." that they only imagine what is going on in my mind. How uncomfortable almost evry situation I go through in life is.

Even church.

Today's service?

Marriage and sex.

OF COURSE.

I sit there in church listening to God's word on love and finding a perfect partner... and hearing Solomon describe his wife's boobs.

How awkward. What timing. The couples in the room are laughing. I would have been too. I would have nudged John's arm when something relevant came up. But for now I am trying to now burst into tears or show my discomfort. Luckily in the service Andi was there. With my right hand I grabbed her left. In my left hand a tissue. A tissue in her right hand. A mirror image of our uncomfortable lives. A month apart. Our lives coming together by fate. By God.



These past two days I have been spending a lot of time with James and Matthew (John's nephews). I have really enjoyed it although it is EXHAUSTING. I have jokingly told Kelly "Im not having kids..." (ha?) I don't mean it. Im terribly heartbroken I won't have a Seay baby.



Yesterday when I went out to the hall to see the boys one of them came up to me and asked "Where is Uncle John." I froze and my eyes searched for Annie's eyes. Hers were watering. So were mine. They asked again "where is Uncle John..." I can't speak. Annie is my voice. Her voice shakes with a response "Uncle John went bye bye for awhile." She looks to me and mouths the word "sorry."

I turn around and go back to my room and shut the door and cry.

But then I try and get brave. I try and compose myself and go outside to play with the boys. I ended up spending the rest of the day with them. But, I guess I should have cried more earlier. Because once I put them to bed.... I lost it. I ran into the bathroom whee Andrea was showering and asked her to keep me company. She ran me a bath and stayed in the room with me while I spilled out my feelings. I am far over being naked in front of her. I used to chase her around the house naked anyway when we were in college. (don't ask how I got so comfortable with my body... this must have been in my skinnier, tanner drum corps days).

I told Andrea many things that saddened me, pissed me off, scared me, etc.



One of the things I mentioned to Andrea was this:

A couple nights after John proposed to me I looked over at him and started to giggle. Then I said.. "oh my God!!! I can't catch bouquets anymore!" You see. I have this thing. I have this record. I am a champ when it comes to catching bouquets at weddings. The last one I caught was at my friend Danielle's wedding. John caught the garter. Mainly because the wedding before when I caught the bouquet...he didn't and hated every second of watching a drunk guy put something up my leg. LOL. He swore he wouldn't let that happen again.

So, sobbing in the bath... my tears feeling cold with the heat of the bath... I told Andrea how I would eventually be back in that single woman group that chased after a bouquet again. Chasing a dream, really.For me, it was more like giving John a hint. "John. It's my 8th bouquet! I think it's about time, baby!"

I am attending John's best friend's wedding in December. But I am sure I won't line up to catch a bouquet. Because I probably won't ever have this expression when I catch one again:

:(