It has been a little over a week since the absence of Matt's life, in my life, has consumed me. It has, honestly, been the longest week ever.
I found out on Saturday night as I was laying in bed in preparation for my heavy work day ahead of me. It was 10pm when Katy called. She was in hysterics and I could barely understand her. The only thing that I do know is that any conversation that starts with, "Have you talked to Garth....?" - isn't going to be a good one. The only thing she could get out was that "Matt's dead". She couldn't provide details so I hung up with her and immediately called Garth. I can only imagine the look on his face and feeling in his heart when he saw my number on the caller id. He was straight-forward, very business like. He knows how I get when details of death emerge upon me. We hung up, I just lay there, with Ray on our bed. Per usual, Ray gets on the internet to search for answers, for anything. Of course, nothing is found because this was a military situation and we all know how tight lipped these types of situations are.
I didn't go in to work the next day. I was a zombie. I cried all day while laying on my couch taking phone calls from sympathizers. I took a shower and even got dolled up, thinking it would make me feel better. It hadn't. Discussions of road trip for the funeral began and I became so overwhelmed. It was all just too much. I still just could not believe my friend had died - and I had no explanation as to why.
Monday I skipped my first class because the thought of going out in public and acting like my life hadn't been completely turned upside down was simply out of the question. My sister called to see if I wanted to go to lunch and since she already knew the story and as much detail as I, I decided to go. She chose Matuba. It's my favorite restaurant and it was also the one place we always made sure to go to when Matt was in town. It was the perfect place for me to go at that moment. I pulled into the parking lot and walked into the restaurant - they were super busy. The first face I saw when I walked in was Garth's. My sister was there before me, so I'm sure he waited anxiously to see if I was the one meeting her. No more than two seconds after having made eye contact he waved. I immediately searched for my sister. I found her, sitting across the restaurant in what was once - me and Garth's "table". I asked her, "Why the hell are you sitting here?" She explained this is where the lady just put her. I'm assuming the waitress had panicked when she realized that my sister and my ex husband were in the same restaurant and she probably just knew that I would be walking in soon. The table was across the dinning room where we couldn't see him - so I can't blame the lady. I'm sure, however, she later remembered that the exact table she put us in was the one he and I shared for so many years. Bizarre.
We had a good conversation. Before we got our food the ex was leaving and had happened to be eating with Sean and Emily - the two people we always hung out with when Matt was in town. Matter of fact, the only time I ever saw Emily was when Matt was in town. The guys approached our table to be friendly, I'm sure. We exchanged hellos and briefly chatted. Emily had given the guys envelopes of photos from one of Matt's visits. It was a visit that happened about 5 or 6 years ago. We had all gone to Jack and Priscilla's to play in the pond. We sifted through the photos and I had to giggle to myself when I noticed none of the photos that were given to Garth had any of me or the girls in them. However, Sean's envelope were filled with the actual memories. It was in good taste not to fill Garth's envelope with photo's of his ex-wife, but I also felt that it was a phony representation of what memories that day was actually filled with. Nonetheless, the guys left, I finished my lunch and proceeded with my day. (Note: mind you, this day was one or two days off of what would have been our nine year dating anniversary. Insane how this world works....)
Later, I had to go to class for a stupid quiz. I went and it sucked. I talked to Rachel on the phone and told her all that was going on. I was really fighting with myself on whether or not I was going to go to the funeral. It was a ten hour drive there and ten hours back. I would have class the following day - which meant this 20 hour drive would be made in a matter of 36 hours - roughly. Not even to mention the fact that, normally I would want to go to the funeral of a friend. It's usually how I cope with such a loss. It's what has been taught to me by society my entire life and it's just something that you do. But I didn't want to. Like a little kid throwing a hissy fit - I did not want to go to this funeral. He was my friend and I was pissed that he died. I've never had anyone this close to me die. Never. And it fucking sucked. I still was (and probably am) in complete denial of this loss. Facing a funeral just made it all too real. I didn't want to surround myself with people that loved him - hundreds of people. I didn't want the chance of it being an open casket and me having to possibly face seeing him lying there.....dead. And I most certainly didn't want to go to a military funeral. Patriotic funerals are the worst. They make me 100 times more emotional than any normal funerals. Bottom line: I didn't want to face the fact that my fucking friend died - and I still, to this day - do not know why.
I decided to go. The guilt of not going was just too much. The guilt of the thought of not going was just too much. Matt would go for me. Hands down. For sure. He has and would make the travel for anything for me. And I was a shitty ass friend for thinking of not going.
For the next two days I sat on this horribly anxious feeling about the trip. The thought of the drive was brutal being 30 weeks pregnant and totally uncomfortable. I say "totally uncomfortable" as if people understand, but the truth is: if you've never been pregnant, you don't understand. I'm talking about the kind of uncomfortable where existing hurts. I was anxious about sleeping. I wake up and go to the bathroom at least five times a night. I'm breathing heavy from this extra 15 lbs I've gained and I just know that I have to be miserable to even be around. I was anxious and began to feel bad for Katy and Sean, as they were my traveling buddies. This weighed very heavily on me and I simply couldn't shake it. Not to mention my on going fear of going into labor early and being so far away from home. Ugh. But I was going. End of story. I am not a shitty friend.
The blizzard came. I had a Dr. appointment and it got cancelled. The following day I had to reschedule and did. While I had them on the phone, I asked for a nurse and explained to her my plans for travel. I suppose I was seeking something positive that would ease my concerns. She did not provide this for me. Though the trip is totally possible, she couldn't convey enough just how miserable I would be. Her hesitation about my trip accelerated my anxiety about my trip.
After talking to Katy and explaining to her about how special needs I am, at this time and just how nervous I was - she, as always, was very supportive of me doing whatever I felt best for me and the baby. The guilt of not going, and the guilt of even thinking about not going was still weighing in heavily.
I decided not to go. It would be best for everyone. It wasn't that I was still being a brat, throwing my hissy fit about facing the reality of the death of my friend. It wasn't for any reason other than - I really just shouldn't travel right now. Not 20 hours in 36 - anyway.
I have sat on this decision for the last two days and though the guilt is still there, I feel less guilty than I did apprehensive when I thought I was going. This is how I know I made the right decision.
And not that it was a decision maker or breaker - but, I really didn't want to spend two whole days with my ex husband mourning the loss of our friend that stood up for us on our wedding day. No thank you.
Matt was one of the kindest, understanding, open minded individuals that I have ever been so lucky to not only know, but to be very close with. I know that he understands my reasons for not going and my strife's with coming to this decision.
I'll come to terms with his death on my own terms and at my own pace. I don't need society to tell me how to cope with my friends death.
This blog was all over the place. Sorry.
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