Saturday 9/26/2009 - Trapped

I’ve had this feeling before. I get this trapped feeling every Thursday night. Every Thursday for the past 6 months to be exact. That Thursday, 6 months ago was such a good day. I had the day off and I had spent the day cleaning and catching up on family tasks, dry cleaning, picking up his prescriptions, replenishing the bird seed and so on. Early that day my husband had called to say he had taken Walleye out of the freeze and that he would make dinner. I gathered the items he would need and had them ready when he arrived. Dinner was wonderful, baked Walleye cooked to perfection. After dinner we took a long walk. We discussed plans for the summer, we talked about the kids and we talked about how fortunate we felt to be together. The events that ended with his death began in actuality on Friday morning. But now on Thursdays… I think about each and every event that took place.

Some of my friends have told me about being trapped in a bad marriage. I never could empathize with what they were feeling. I never understood what they meant. I have a friend who has been married for more than 40 years. She married in her mid teens and frankly does not care for her husband. Their marriage is loveless and likeness. They have adult children in common and that is all. They do not socialize or pursue any interests. When I have asked why she has made the decision to stay married, her response is “what can I do, I’m trapped”. How sad. But now I understand that caged animal feeling of being trapped. I wonder if it is harder to be in a bad marriage forever or be in a really good marriage and have it end the way mine did. I guess one of the hardest things for me is that we worked so very hard to have our marriage get to the level it reached and then, what? It was taken away without any consultation or warning. I’ve said it before and I will continue to say it, “I loved being married. I loved being someone’s wife”. I want people to know that I am single, not because I failed at my marriage but because of a twist of fate. Fate. I suppose you could argue that fate is the cause of all marriage failures. An example, fate brings two people together, they have an affair and a marriage ends. I can’t imagine having this trapped feeling every day of my life. Even feeling this way for one day a week sucks the energy right out of me. I am without exception, amazingly exhausted on Friday nights. It is astonishing to me that I have never had or felt this deep exhaustion before. When my kids were babies, they are only 13.5 months apart; I never ever felt this, cry at the drop of a hat, weak in the knees, head hurting exhaustion. I was tired, drained and in need of a shower, but never even close to what I feel now. Ironically, it only happens on Friday nights after 24-30 hours of that trapped feeling. The professionals I‘ve spoken with say it’s all part of the process. The regurgitation of each minuet detail of the day my husband died should dissipate in time, so they say.

I’ve been trapped 2 other times in my life. Just before my husband and I married, I moved in to his apartment. We convinced ourselves it was a cost saving measure. The plan was that it would save money we could then put towards our wedding. Oh my gosh I thought I was such a grown up, 19 years old and living with a 25 year old! Thankfully, my naivety has diminished with age. I was attending community college at night, wisely choosing Monday nights in the fall for my toughest class, Biology. My thought was, being out of the house on Monday would shield me from Monday Night Football and allow my husband some well deserved space. If you never had the pleasure of watching a sporting event with him, you missed out on something special. I have never seen anyone get so into a game, physically, mentally and emotionally. It could be scary if you didn’t know him. So on this particular Monday, I went off to class. Please remember this was well before cell phone, the internet or cable community access channels. Once I arrived I was notified that class was cancelled. I wasted time by running a few errands and then went home. I pressed the elevator bottom to go up to our apartment. The elevator began its assent and stopped. Stopped and shut down between floors. There was no phone or way to make contact with anyone. So I sat down and waited. I read the box of Cheerio’s, the carton of milk… Jennifer Martin was last seen wearing a blue jeans and a pink sweatshirt, she stands 4 foot 5 inches and has blond hair…. I heard someone yelling, asking if anyone was in the elevator. I responded and the yeller said he was getting help. I waited. Meanwhile, my parents were sitting in their home 2 towns away; I’m sure enjoying the bliss you get when your children are out on their own, when a call came over the police/fire scanner. My dad being a fire fighter always had these radios active. It became common practice to stop all movement and conversation when one of the scanners began to squawk. My parent heard the call for assistance at my building for someone trapped in the elevator. They thought it was amusing so they placed a call to my house to ask if I knew who was trapped. My husband answered and said I was at class and he wasn’t aware of anything happening in our building but at half time he would check it out. When half time rolled around he walked down the hall to the elevators. He met up with the Fire Chief. The Chief told him a young woman was stuck in the elevator. I could hear them talking above me. I so clearly remember my beloved husband say something about “only a woman would get herself stuck in an elevator that only goes up 2 floors”. Just then the elevator began to move. The doors open and I wish I could describe the look on my husband’s face when I stepped out. A few years ago I was completing what had become my Sunday ritual, dropping my husband off at the airport, going to gas up the car for the week and stopping at the grocer for items needed. As I filled up I thought I would treat myself to a touch less car wash. I entered the car wash and pulled up to the designated spot and stopped, car in neutral. I was just admiring the scent of the multi colored soap droplets when everything stopped. No loud noise to indicate a breakdown no indication as to what the problem was. The silence was ominous. As the soap slid off the windshield I saw a huge sign stating “DO NOT GET OUT OF VEHICAL”. So I waited. I waited for almost an hour. I didn’t have a signal on my cell phone so I couldn’t call for help. I started thinking of the headlines, “Suburban Mom dies a touch less death” or “Washed up” or some other editors dream headline. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t taken a shower and I was in sweats. Please God don’t let the media take pictures… Finally I saw headlights on the other side of the door. There was honking, as if I had control of the wash system. Eventually the headlights changed to flashing lights and the police and fire department removed the exit door and then rolled the wash system off my car so that I could leave safely. As I pulled out and the State Policemen was gathering information, the owner of the gas station came to the passenger side of my car and began to yell at me. He wanted to know what I had done to his car wash, how I had caused it to malfunction. Seriously. As I was driving home the stress of being trapped in the car wash for almost 2 hours hit me and I started to freak out. It’s funny that I don’t usually freak out in the moment, but I clearly make up for it later. When I told my husband of my ordeal, he, as was his style, thought it was the funniest thing he had ever heard and laughed his head off.

So now I’m feeling this trapped feeling again. Unfortunately I don’t have my husband to make light or put things in perspective for me. But I’ll trust those that tell me this will lessen with time. I’ve always liked Thursdays and want to appreciate this last vestige of the work week again. So I’ll give it time and allow the process of grieving to take its course. It will be worth the wait.

I hope so…