Dear Boo Bear … (A Letter to my Husband)

originally posted September 6, 2011
Dear Boo Bear,

I am very grumpy today; and it is multiplied by not having you here to whine and bitch to when I get home. First of all, I have my stupid period. I used to love how you would refer to my period as simply “friend.” The way you used to say it, in that sarcastic tone, was so adorable. You would always seem to know when it was coming too. My back would be hurting or I would complain about a particularly bad headache, and you would say “Well Boo, friend should be arriving any day now!” And you were usually right too. You always made fun of me because I would always get “friend” on the day of a very important event. “What is it with you and your stupid friend? You ALWAYS get that damn thing on the worst possible day!” I had friend on the day you proposed to me in NYC. I had it on our wedding day. And guess what arrived the morning of your funeral, as I was crying in the restroom before the service began? Friend!

You also never ever made fun of all the PMS crap; the backaches, headaches, cramps, and exhaustion I would feel during “friend.” So many guys make fun of us, but you never did. You were so good with me. I would say “stupid friend is here”, and you would say “Aww, that sucks Boo,” and then you would make me a bottle of ice water with the ice cubs half frozen and slushy the way that I like it. We used to call it “kickass water.” Sometimes on my way home from teaching, or a comedy gig, I would call you and ask if you could prepare me some “kickass water” in the freezer so it would be ready when I get back. When I had a headache, you’d get me a washcloth and rub my back and neck, and lay next to me in bed and tell me silly stories or sing to me. You would make me laugh. If I was still grumpy, you would just deal with me until I felt better. But it was very hard to stay grumpy around you; because you did everything to try and make me feel better. Well, today I have “friend”, and I’m even more angry at it’s existence than normal; because what is the point of menstruating at all? Any hope or possibility of having children in the future died when you did. We may have never had children together; or we may have adopted one day; or maybe I would have gotten pregnant. Or perhaps absolutely nothing would have happened. But the fact that the possibility was taken away from us, from you, to be a dad one day, hurts me inside and makes me cry. You would have been such an amazing father. And now the conversations that we had while lying in bed together about the possibility of parenthood together; and about how other people’s kids suck; haunt me every month when this horrible “friend” arrives. Once a month, I have this awful, cruel reminder that we will never have our family together; our future; whatever that may have been.
We will never ever know what that future may have been.

I woke up grumpy this morning Boo. I woke up with a headache; and I struggled to leave the apartment to go drive to Long Island for my second full day of teaching. On my first day back teaching at Adelphi last week; I ended up having to leave one of my Acting Classes as my students were filling out a survey I made for them. I had to leave the room so I could run into the bathroom stall and cry. Thankfully, I dont think anyone really noticed, but it was such a sad day. I was crying during my 90min car ride out there, and crying during my car ride back. In between, there were a lot of slow hugs by faculty members and caring people; and a lot of whispers in the hallways. I heard one student say to another in a hushed tone as I walked by: “That’s the professor whose husband just died. He just, like, collapsed.” The other one replied: “Oh My God!” I had thought that maybe today would be a little bit easier. Everyone keeps telling me that the first time I do anything without you will be the worst time. But Boo; today was worse. I felt like shit all day and didn’t have you to complain to. When I got up in the morning, and got ready to leave, I kept waiting for that cute goodbye hug and kiss you would give me before I walked out the door. You would say in a teasing voice: “Do you have everything you need Professor Niemi?” You always teased me by calling me Professor. Sometimes you would put an apple in my shoulder bag; or make me a peanut butter sandwich for my lunch. I kept looking at my Blackberry in between each class for your texts, cheering me on hour by hour:”How are you feeling Boo? How are your students? Do you have a lot of dumbasses this semester?” You always wanted to know about the one or two pain in the ass students. You would laugh so hard hearing about my misery in dealing with them.

Let me tell you Boo; today really sucked without your support. My Stand Up Comedy Class is all women. There are no men at all. And today I found out that all of those women are very, very funny. You know how rare it is to have all girls in that class, and to have them all be talented and funny too? The second the class ended and they all walked out; my first instinct was to call you up and excitingly tell you:” Boo! You wouldn’t believe it! I have all girls in my class and they are awesome! I cant wait for you to see their show!” And you would have said “Awww Boo, that’s great! Be careful driving home.” But today there was no one to call with my little tidbit of information; and no one to tell me to get home soon. People keep telling that whenever I feel the need to talk to you or tell you something, I should do it, because you can hear everything I am saying. I wish I could believe that Boo. I don’t feel you there when I talk to you; I don’t feel that you can hear me. I feel so alone. I hate coming home to my new life without you. I hate being this grumpy and staying this grumpy because you’re not here to cheer me up. After my classes today, I sat in horrendour traffic going through the city and into the Lincoln Tunnel. I always used to call you and bitch about the traffic. It really sucks to sit in your car and realize you have no one to call to bitch to about the traffic. No one to feel badly that you are sitting in traffic; no one to take the chicken out of the freezer for you so it can start to defrost for our dinner later on.

When I finally got home, I tried to print something up and realized our goddamn printer isn’t functioning. AGAIN! How many times did you go inside and underneath and into that stupid thing and try ot figure out which random issue it was having now? But you fixed it each time, because that’s what you do. Then I picked up the vacuum cleaner and the top handle part fell off. It just randomly fell off. For no reason. I broke it. I then proceeded to throw it across the room in frustration. Next, I went into the bathroom to pee. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the toilet seat just falls off completely. Right onto the floor. Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t know how to fix this kind of shit. Could everything please stop breaking??? I turned on the TV and it started doing that goddamn thing again where the picture moves all around and jumps? Yeah. We never did figure out why it does that, but unplugging it for a few minutes, and then plugging it back in always seemed to help. So I did that. It didn’t help. Just another phone call I will have to make. I can add it to the ginormous list of “things that need fixing”, or “things that need to be done” or “things that need to be paid”. So many lists of things to do relating to your death. Every time I try to tackle any of them; I end up getting overwhelmed, emotional, and have to stop. The whole thing is so incredibly exhausting and pointless.

Before I met you, I lived here alone for 3 years. I lived in this very apartment by myself. Ever since leaving Massachusetts at age 18 to attend college in NY for Theater, I have been by myself. I have done things by myself. I have always had to struggle for every piece of shit thing I have received in my life. I worked hard for this mediocre life and this shabby piece of crap furniture. I had my dreams , my goals, my accomplishments. It was really fucking hard doing it alone. It is really difficult when you don’t have someone to share your food with, your drinks with, your meals with, your pets with, your annoying days with, your life with. When you were here Boo; I would be grumpy and look forward to coming home to hang out with you. Now I don’t look forward to being anywhere. When you were here; our crappy things and our crappy life were endearing and sweet, and there was hope. Now there’s just crap.

I miss you so fucking much. And I wish that me saying that out loud or typing it made me feel better. But the truth is, it doesn’t.

Nothing makes me feel better. You are just gone, and I hate it. I hate it with everything I have inside of me.

Love, Boo

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