Missing

Is it so wrong to want to be dead so that I can see, face to face, Mike again?  To be able to just...be WITH him again.  To be able to talk, and talk, and feel his arms around me again (not just imagine them).  To be able to talk about how much I wish we had had more time to talk...before he died.  All the things I wanted to talk about but that were squashed down.  Missed because of all the other demands.....the time eaters.  Groceries, juicing, peeling, cooking, banking, cleaning, inquiries and housecleaning our house so it was as germ free as I could get it. Then having to deal with all the cleaning, gardening and stuff required with our vacation rental business.  And of course...everyday but Sunday Mike had work...work...work .  And Nursing hours still had to be done as well.
       So So So much interfered.  So little time to talk.  So many other people trying to get in their moments.  And they needed to. It's awful that Amie couldn't get in hers because of being stuck in Disney.  And I understand Mikes family needing theirs.  But I just feel so cheated out of the time I needed and wanted and still soooooo miss between Mike and I.  It's awful.
        I am looking with such anticipation at dying.  Because I want to be with him again...so badly. So incredibly badly.  Waking up each day....always like the movie 50 first dates.  In that movie, each day she wakes,  the heroine has to learn and realize anew that time has passed from a specific date in her past and that her life is different than she knew before.  That's what it is like for me.  Each morning, I have to realize all over again that Mike...isn't here. Isn't going to be here.  Ever  And it's so painful and awful.  I just want to die.  To be where he is.  To be with him.
          I'm not suicidal in that I would kill myself.  God alone has the right to say when my life is to be done.  But I wouldn't mind (except for the girls) at ALL....having a bomb go off and finding myself standing in heaven next to Michael and Jesus.
         The worst thing is to realize that Jesus still....is getting second billing.  That is wrong.  But it is what it is.  I miss Mike so badly and he is who I really really really want to see.  First.  There's probably so much sin and bad stuff in that truth.    I don't know what the sin is exactly that it represents...that Mike gets first billing for who I will run to when I hit heavens doors...except that Jesus is probably going to be who I see first.  But if they were side by side....I don't know.  I soooo miss Mike. I just want his arms around me again and face next to mine whispering he loves me and is so glad to be with me again. Then...after that....I'd love to sit in Jesus's lap and talk and learn and learn and talk and see....and understand everything but, mostly what I want to understand is...the why's of all this.  And then be able to jump joyfully out of his lap, join hands with Mike and go off together to have eternity there...with both of us...at the same time. 
          But...I know the girls need me.  Imperfect as I am as a Mom....and I'm pretty imperfect.  Made more so by the fact I am having such a difficult time missing Mike.  And that is constantly putting their own loss in front of them.  So it makes it harder for them.  And my perfection...just keeps getting dented and dented and broken even more.
           I think today is hard because I'm just past St Patricks Day.  St Pats is BIG in Savannah. And Mike and I had our routine....We'd bike or walk down to Bay Street each afternoon or evening after he finished working.  I'd usually hit the parade route with the dog during the day.  The girls would do their own thing with their friends.  This year...very different.  I never even went to Bay Street and walking the parade route with the dog also was not at all the same either.  But the fact it was such a day that had lots of Mike memories in it...was what made it so hard.  Every holiday is like that!  I hate the holidays now.  Hate them.  They are all awful. 
           I remember some of the "main" ones being really hard after my Dad died.  But not every single one. Not Mom's Day. Not St Pats. Not Valentines. Not anniversaries. Not 4th of July. Not..not..not.  Same thing with losing others like Aunts/Uncles/Grandparents and even the miscarriage.  None of those really affected how I viewed holidays.  But Mike affects every siiiinnnngggle one. So...hate them.  Even the girls birthdays are affected.
            Sigh...blow out air from cheeks...frown....shoulders slump.    Breathe in. Straighten shoulders.  Take another deep breath.  Move on.