Monday, January 31, 2011

text messages

I have not deleted my text messages from John.
I don't know if I ever will have the guts to do so.
Sometimes I make the mistake and open them up... and read them.... I have to browse through the ones I have sent since his death. Yes, for some reason I still find myself texting him. After he first died I always had the urge to text... when anything interesting was happening... and then would stop myself and realize that he wasn't going to respond. But, now I purposely text and KNOW there will be no response... but also the text isn't sent back either. It goes out to outerspace somewhere i guess. No one has John's number. I have called it recently. I had butterflies in my stomach when I pressed his name in my phone. And it went straight to the voice of a woman saying the number was no longer in service. Either way, it's hurtful. I remember the day I had to cut off his line. They asked if I wanted to keep the number. I frantically asked everyone in John's house if they wanted it. No one did. It's painful. And a Tallahassee number.
So, yes... I send John text messages.
And I am not alone.
Patrick Swayze's wife recently in an interview confessed she still texted her husband after death:

Niemi, who will appear on the televised Stand UpTo Cancerbenefit today to raise funds for research, said she always texted Swayze while traveling.

"I just put what I always did: 'I love you.' And then I cried for a little bit to myself," she told People magazine. "It [the text message] didn't come back. So either somewhere out there received it, or someone's going, 'Somebody loves me!' And you know what? I figured it was a win-win situation."

Grief has no timeline, according to psychological experts, and it varies according to each individual. According to Weide, about 15 percent of those with a loss experience "traumatic grief," unable to move forward.

The sense of loss is "permanent," and the person who feels it is forever changed, she said, but most are eventually able to move on from the acute phase and manage the pain.

So, I am not alone in this.

It's when I start scrolling up.... and up.... and see the texts that John sent me. His last text sent to me was on April 20, 2010. Two days before he died. It says "I love you so much. I'll be thinking about you." Reading this text always makes me lose it. Especially because in the next text on April 22, 2010 I say "It's 5pm... how are you still sleeping?!" Little did I know that John wasn't sleeping at all. He had already left this Earth to be in heaven. The text sends chills down my spine. My John.... already taken from me. I was oblivious to it all. An hour later I would come home to find him. Cold and blue.

As I scan through texts I find some that make my heart still leap.

The day after he proposed he said "Smile! You are to be my wife! See? Isn't life just great?"

...and it was. Life at that moment was the best it had ever been. I couldn't imagine it getting any better.

While I was at MPA last year John texted me this: "Just remember I love you so much, your kids will do great today because you're a great teacher, you're to be my wife, you deserve happiness, and I won't be doing anything foolish in Dayton. ;) I love you." deserve happiness. Once again.... John's purpose in life. To make me happy. When I read the word wife I just can't bear the fact that John will never have that chance. To marry. To start a family. To grow old and have a full life. He wanted this just as much as me. And now look where we are. John's goal in life.... my happiness .... is failing. How could he have known that the destruction of my happiness would be due to him? Even though he had no control over it. If John is watching me, which I know he is, is it tearing him up? To watch me in misery? To watch me sit in the bath tub an cry over the edge sobs of longing.... yelling out "Baby... please. please. please.." Why is it I always go back to that? Please? What am I asking for? And who am I asking? It's because words fail me. What else is there to yell out? What's the use in that anyway?

John's number is still programmed in my phone. John (ilymtli) to be exact

I took him off my favorites a month ago. Only because it would sometimes automatically call him if i hit the button on accident. I do not have the heart to delete his name. Deleting his name is making one more thing final. And I feel like baby steps are best. For a man who claimed he wasn't good at writing or talking on the phone he sure did have a way with making me feel like a princess whenever he sent me a message. His adoration for me and our love flowed even through my iPhone. He was. amazing. he is still amazing. He will always be that amazing man. and as milestones approach I will continue to send him messages. Knowing there will never be one in return. All green boxes. No gray anymore. A conversation spoken to myself.



Paul and Heather said...

Listen Gram is still in my phone...her number and her address and she was my Grandma, she died 5 years ago, and she was supposed to die when she did. She was 96 years old. I just like to have her name in there. Who cares if you leave John in your phone forever!

Brooke Simmons said...

After I lost the last voicemail Andie sent me I decided that I would not have the same fate with all our text messages, so I typed up a transcript of our text conversations to keep forever. That way, if they ever get deleted off my phone somehow I have a back up. They bring me lots of comfort to see how much he told me he loved me, so I get where you're coming from.

Laura said...

I think it tears John up some to see you in pain, but he is with God now, and God knows what the future holds for you. And it is bright. And that is what keeps John smiling in heaven. To see that you will, some day, have the beautiful life that was meant for you.

Ginger said...

I also have not deleted my husband's texts. You are not alone.

Ann-Marie said...

I have the voicemail on my cellphone from Philip's hospice nurse when she called to tell me he was dying and I needed to get there fast, and then she said, "Oh," and hung up.
He died. That fast. I wasn't with my husband when he left me. The closest I have to him is that message on my voicemail, and I will never let it go.
We save what we can of our loves.