I have been working on this post all week knowing it was coming, but I’ve also been busy with lots of other things, and for a couple of days this week I actually lost track of what day it was. But then this morning (Wednesday) I woke up and realized today was the day…I knew it suddenly, without thinking, that today was his day. I just knew it with that old familiar pang. My heart is aching. I spoke with both his daughters, and we chatted about what we would have done today with him were he still here…we reminisced about the man he was and talked about how hard this day is for us without him. Mike was such a fun-loving guy - really he maintained such a childlike thrill for life, and never lost the excitement for birthdays…except that I know he really did not like being old.
Any other day, I would have opened my eyes at 6:00 A.M., sleepily rubbed my eyes, and shifted my way to the edge of the bed. I would have woken Shelby up, as always, and gone about the mindless morning routine of feeding the dogs, making coffee, watching the news, and determining what clothes I would be wearing to work.
Today isn’t any other day.
This week marked another anniversary in the long and winding journey without my husband—his 65th birthday, on July the 2nd. Last year, his birthday came less than a month after he died, and I can’t say I even remember it. I had returned to work the day before, and I must have walked through my day in that office like a zombie on auto-pilot, still numb from the shock of his sudden passing.
An entire year has ensued, without him in it.
When I think of the cruel twist of fate that brought us together for such a short time, then swept him away from me in an instant, my anger rises, and sometimes I let it carry me away. I get lost in the injustice of it. I shake my fist at the skies. If I believed that there was a God with a plan, I would be cursing him. Instead I cry out to Stan, asking him why he left us in the way that he did—as if he deliberately chose to wreak this havoc on all of our lives.
Sometimes grief does not conform to our sense of propriety. Sometimes there is no logic in it. Sometimes we have to let it erupt, so that we can move through it.Read more
Yesterday was my fiance's 30th Birthday. I don't say "would have been" because it doesn't make me feel like I am allowed to still celebrate it when I saw that. So instead, I say that it was, and is, the day he turned thirty. Even if he isn't here physically, saying it that IS his birthday helps me have permission to still celebrate.Read more
Yesterday was a hard day. Exactly a week until Drew's birthday, perhaps I don't remember how hard it was last year… but I could swear it's hitting me harder this year. My body seems so much more aware of the lack of his body, but also just the feeling of him in the space is far more distant now. I downplayed that first sentence… it was a hard week actually. And next week I'm sure will also be hard.Read more
Ian loved celebrating his birthday with his friends, so last year, on his birthday, we marked the one year anniversary of him getting sick by going back to the restaurant we had to leave so quickly in 2012.Read more