I wish I had of known,

I wish I had of known how bad it would really be. A warning that the one year mark would be one of the most painful days of my life. I knew it wouldn’t be an easy day, I tried to prepare for that day. I honestly didn’t expect it to be as bad as it was.

The fog of grief that had somewhat eased over the past few months returned instantly in full form. Upon opening my eyes at first light, within a couple of minutes the tears began and lasted all day. I hadn’t cried like that in quite a while. The idea of being around friends and keeping busy and occupied pushed me to get out of the house. An unexpected wave of memories flooded my mind continuously in every direction I looked.

It as though I stood motionless while the world around me spun. People busy moving about their lives but I didn’t notice a single sole. Instead the only images I saw were memories of the last time we rested under that tree and starred up at the clouds. Thoughts of the last conversation we had at that coffee shop. The items he last purchased from the hardware store that I drove past. The smile he gave me the last time we were in the car together at that particular set of traffic lights. The day was an overwhelming flood of memories played out like movie scenes in my mind.

At the drop of a hat tears welled and fell on this day. It didn’t matter if I was in public or not. It hurt so much and I wish I had of known how bad it was actually going to be. It’s not fair, I cried. I miss him, I exclaimed. I want him to come back, I stated. I wanted someone to fix it, to take away my pain. But no one could. So in the thick fog of grief I stayed all day, only hearing every third word that was spoken to me. Not caring about anyone else or anything. Just consumed.

On this day I was angry and I yelled at some of my closest friends. They didn’t know what to say or they had said the wrong thing. How could they not know how hard this day was going to be, why didn’t anyone warn me. This day marked the last day I saw him breathing, the last day I heard his voice, the last day I kissed his lips, the last day I laughed and smiled with him, the last day we drank a coffee together, the last day we ate together, the last day I held him, the last day I heard him say I love you. The last day he was alive.        

As much as I tried to and wanted it to be just another day, it was never going to be just another day. Not that day. That day was the worst day of my life, the last day of his life. It will always be a dark day. Knowing now what to expect the next time this day comes around. Expect the worst.

I am glad the first year of firsts without him is now over. I am hopeful that the second year into this journey is lighter. I refuse to let grief consume and steal another year of my life. Life is meant to be lived and John would be the first to say get out and live it.

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  • Janice Boltseridge
    commented 2016-12-18 13:00:37 -0800
    You have described the pain of that particular day very well. It’s awful. Each holiday, birthday and anniversary hurts different and just as hard as the one before it.