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Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Two years without you.

Anyone who has spent any length of time with me recently knows I’ve been dreading today. Dreading it the same way I did last year and likely the same way I’ll dread it again next year. My mind spent all of yesterday trying to make itself believe that it was the seventh yesterday as if skipping today would someone how bring you back or make this whole thing easier. 

Unfortunately you can’t skip a day or remove it from the calendar and wishing someone back to life just doesn’t work no matter how hard you try and trust me, I have tried. 

People give suggestions on what they think or hope will make it easier. Dating, moving, traveling, taking down his pictures, Jesus, and so much more.  Sometimes I wonder if they’re trying to help me feel better or themselves but it doesn’t matter, I’ve learned most people mean well regardless. They miss the mark with their suggestions.  They forget that even when or if I choose to date again that, that won’t negate from the love i still and will continue to have for you and it certainly won’t stop the grief. I have enough widowed friends to know this with certainty and quite frankly I wouldn’t want to take either away either.  No not even the pain, as crazy as that sounds but I’ll save that explanation for another time. There’s the people on the other side of the coin who want me to wear black and a veil and be in a constant state of agony.....luckily I can roll my eyes at that because you’d have never wanted that for us. 

They forget that if even if I traveled eventually I’d have to come back and though I’d have enjoyed myself, nothing would be different upon return.   Talking down your pictures? That’s not even a suggestion I entertain, rather just smile and shrug. The only two they hit the mark with is moving and Jesus. 

I’ve considered moving recently. Not now but in a few years. It’s a nice thought, knowing that I can come back often to visit and that even when I pass, my body can be brought here to be buried next to you regardless of where I live but I wouldn’t have to be surrounded by the places that still bring the trauma of that night and the heaviness of your loss to the forefront of my mind and make me feel like I’m drowning when I least expect it, it’s an almost peaceful thought. There’s the people on the other side of the coin saying “what about the good memories, won’t you miss them?!” these are the ones who have never experience something like this. They don’t realize that the good memories are always with me, they’re what bring me peace in the hard moments. They can’t be ignored the way that the painful ones can.  Yeah sometimes moving sounds nice. 

And Jesus. We both know that outside of the deep love I have for our children Jesus is the only thing that’s gotten me through. That has helped me find a new normal. That has helped me navigate this. I don’t know how other people do it without, I sure couldn’t. 

It’s been two years or rather it will be at 8:03pm.  Somethings are still the same, I have great family and friends, some old, the ones you would expect like Tahnya Nicole and Lindsey, but some really wonderful new ones too like Cortnee and Raquel,  there’s others too, I think you’d really  like most of them. I’ve lost some friends too, by choice and it really wasn’t as painful as you’d imagine. I think when you’ve gone through the worst, It makes everything easier. That and I’ve learned in your loss that I don’t have time to allow toxicity into my life. We already carry enough pain without anyone adding to that. 

It’s been two years and I laugh more freely and without feeling guilt that you can’t.  I find joy in our children and I can listen to music without wanting to crawl out of my own skin for the most part. I’m still so angry with God sometimes, but now it’s different. It’s not constant and not to the point where I consider leaving him entirely. 

It’s been two years and I can get through most days okay. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion but not a constant state of pain or panic. I’m still in a constant state of missing you but I now smile when I think of all our memories instead of wanting to die to be with you.  I’m still in pain. I still cry and I still want you daily, but I’ve also found some joy and happiness. 

It’s not better. But it’s different and I’ll take that.  730 days without you and instead of wishing I was dead with you, I try to live for you. 

See you someday soon, babe. 


I love you. The kids love you. We miss you. Forever. 

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