A couple of weeks ago I traveled to California to spend time with my best friend.
On one of the days I was there we went to tour a winery.
The winery was so beautiful. Of course the wine was amazing. The day was filled with love and laughter.
On the drive back to our hotel I was looking out the window.. taking in the beauty around me.
And it hit me..
It hits me every time..
The tears started falling.
Once again, my husband missed out on an amazing experience.
When I think about all the fun I had and all the fun my husband missed out on.. it leaves me in tears.
It feels like every time I have an amazing day it is followed by pain.
Followed by a slap in the face that he is still dead.
Pain that my husband can’t experience these things.
Pain that I am having such an amazing time without my husband.
I've thought a lot about it. How come when an amazing day is winding down, night is setting in, my brain goes there?
It seems like I have some version of survivor’s guilt.
Guilt that I can actually live and love life.
Guilt that my husband couldn't see a reason to live another day.
Guilt that I am enjoying my life while my husband is dead.
It hurts. It bothers me that I have to have a melt down after an amazing day.
Three years out, when does the quilt subside?
When can I enjoy life without feeling guilty about it?
When can I stop feeling sorry for my husband?
After all, my husband decided to leave this life.. I did not make that decision for him. So why do I feel guilty for having fun?
Times like this I wish I could tell him "Do you see all the amazing things you are missing out on?? What the hell were you thinking??"
Survivor’s guilt. Three years out I am still learning about all the bumps in this road called widowhood.