Some people get angry.
Some people busy themselves with stuff.
Some people keep it buried inside.
Some people grieve around others.
While some grieve only in private.
Point being, grief is something everyone goes through.
I've never felt grief to the degree I did until my father in law passed. It was a "first" in mine and Jason's marriage. The first parent to go. It's not something easy to go through. No it wasn't my parent.....but he may as well been. March 10, 2012.
My husband had business out of town to attend to the night before. He had stayed with his aunt in Virginia before coming back home on the 10th. I received a phone call from him that Saturday morning at 9am. It was one that changed our life. I could barely hear him. "Hey", he said, "my dad died last night." I've never shot up out of bed any faster than that moment. "Your dad? You mean Mike Patterson?" (his biological dad) "No, Brune."
I couldn't speak. It took me several moments. I layed my head in my hands. I looked over at my sleeping son and thought "Oh God. How will I tell him?"
I remember asking what happened. Heart attack. In his sleep. He told me the events of how his mom found this out. (I'll save those details for just our family. Not something to put out in blog land) But yet, no tears. Shock maybe? Processing everything? Wondering how my husband was holding up? When was he to get home to me? How will he drive all the way home from Virginia in this state of being by himself? Thoughts swirling. We hung up. He promised to call me later.
I called my mom. Then I cried. And cried. And cried more. She came over. We started online shopping for flights. We organized who would get the kids and take them to school. If she would stay here or the children go there. Details. All to keep busy. I didn't want my husband to have to do it. Or maybe I was doing it for selfish reasons. Reasons to keep my mind off of what we would have to face in the days, weeks, and years to come. There were no more tears from me while keeping busy.
Fast forward to Missouri, where we finally saw his mother. Grief. Unimaginable grief. Grief so stinking thick you could slice it with a knife. As expected of course.
I remember walking through the farm that he and Susan shared in Missouri. Goats, rabbits, chickens, plants......he loved to build things from scratch. He loved gardening. (Grown some of the best darn tomatoes around). I remember thinking, "He's gone." "I'll never fight with him again" (I think he loved to ruffle my feathers, which he did frequently) :)
Telling my 5 year old was a beast. He loved Papa. Telling him Papa went to Heaven, he seemed to understand. He thought it was cool that papa gets to talk to Jesus. But one night tore me up. It was several months later and Christian, Jason and I were sitting there watching TV. I think Grace had already gone to bed. (She was still to little to even understand what was going on). While watching TV, Christian all of a sudden started crying and turned around and fell into my arms. "Baby!! What's wrong?" I remember asking him. "I miss Papa!!" he cries. I tear up and look at Jason. Jason gets up, walks out the room and returns with a photo album. They start looking at pictures of Papa. One particular picture, my husband is very fond of. It's a picture of him and his dad at our wedding. It's still on our frig where it will always stay.
I blog about this because 1. This blog started out designed to keep Susan and "Papa" Mike updated with our lives and children's lives when they moved 14 hours away from us.
2. Since his passing, I haven't blogged anything.
3. We are coming up on the 2 year anniversary of his death and I just figured it may help write all this out to cope with it. Yes, it's still hard. Even after 2 years.
I find myself thinking of him even more now because I would LOVE to plant a garden and HE would be just the right person to get advice from. But yet, I can't. I don't claim to hurt more than my husband. I KNOW his hurt runs so much deeper than mine. But it still hurts. So, I dedicate this blog post to you, Mike Brune. May you rest in peace, you old fart. (He is totally laughing at that right now)
"That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither- whatever they do prospers." Psalms 1:3
