Like a freight train, time is bullying its way forward. Come February, which feels just around the corner, I will have been five years without Mike. I sit here in his chair on the lanai we shared in this house, looking down on the ocean view he loved so dearly, wondering how that is possible.
Because in this moment, and so many others, it feels like yesterday. The pain feels raw and real and the missing him hasn’t stopped. And yet I have been forced to continue to deal with life in this world all this time, without him.
This is not the first time I’ve sat down to write about this, but it’s the first time I feel ready to publish it because I’ve finally told my parents what happened. It’s not the easiest thing to write about – and I didn’t want them to find out about it by reading it here.Read more