3/13/10
We've been married 700 days today....there's nothing all that special about that particular number--it doesn't fall on our anniversary or anything like that....but it's still 700....and yet, that is nothing for the fact that I will spend the rest of my life married to my wonderful husband....even if we are seperated by universes.
I've lately described myself as being in the worst best place in my life. I certainly don't expect anyone to understand that...it's kind of hard for me to explain in all honesty. It's this sort of no-man's land where you sit looking at the fact that you could do anything you want with your life...anything at all....while also still missing him and wishing he was here to share in all of it with you....but you also know that if he was here--these things certainly wouldn't be happening...at least, not without a compromise and probably not in the same sequence. I know, for sure, that Chris and I would certainly have different furniture if he were here to choose it with me. :) It's nice to think about what life would be like....how different it might or might not be....but mostly, I am working on putting myself back together without losing him in the mix. It is true, I will never again be the same person....but I think I can find a balance of holding on and remembering without becoming forever bitter. I love to remember Chris and talk about all the quirks he had and all the things I love about him....and I know he'd want me to keep on moving...but somedays it's just hard. 700 days of marriage later and I still remember him placing those rings on my finger as if he did it every day....and in my heart, he does.
In 700 days of marriage I have learned that it is a daunting task to get married, go on a honeymoon, come back, and buy a house all in 2 months.....but if you're truly partners, anything is possible. I've learned to hold with a loose grip....always encouraging his time with his friends and his time for himself with still balancing time for us and things for us to do that made us happy. I've learned nothing is permanent. I've learned that marriage is a team effort and that I never realized all the things Chris did for us until he wasn't here for me to thank....all the dishes and laundry and household chores I never even had to worry about that now consumes my days. I've learned to be gracious and kind because I learned from the best. I've learned that marriage is sacred and shouldn't be taken lightly....I would give anything for one day of mine back and there are people all over the news and the world abusing what they have. I've truly learned the depth of how deeply I can love without ever knowing I was capable of it....you learn that kind of love when you are faced with planning a funeral and getting questioned about your love and life from detectives...and when you stare at a giant hole in the ground knowing you're placing your best friend there to rest....and all you can do is love him more every single day for truly giving you forever.
So, no, today is nothing all that special....but it is 700 days later....and I'd marry him every single day for the rest of my life.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
.Tangibles.
3/7/10
When staring at a bed that feels all too empty, I search for the tangible...something that makes Chris seem just little less far away. I have his cherished baby blanket with traces of his smell that comforts me on the really bad nights...but mostly clothes and shoes and many other tangible things to ground me. Funny though, as much as I search for just the right thing for comfort, it becomes so clear that those aren't the tangibles I desire. Unfortunately, there isn't a hug in a box or a kiss in a jar or his beautiful voice in a drawer....those are only in the deep wells of my heart now....and how I long for them each day.
In the last eight months I have found parts of myself I never knew. This loss has forced me to dig deeper than ever before...in hopes of reaching for the light as the days go on. On this journey I have found that most of the possessions I have are just things....they won't hold me in the middle of the night when I cry and they won't rejoice in my triumphs...they are just things....but they're my things and somehow I find myself tied to them....even though I know I cannot take these things with me. I know it firsthand as I sift through possessions that Chris loved and cherished....and still, I want to hold on just a bit longer.
When I began to put Chris' clothes away, I got many suggestions for where to donate or sell his clothes. somehow none of them sat well with me. While I don't doubt that there are many people who would benefit, it just wasn't okay for my heart....and then, my beautiful friend suggested a quilt. Immediately the idea spoke to me and my heart got this peaceful calm. No, it's not a hug or a kiss or a steady hand...but it's Chris...and the idea of wrapping myself in him brings more peace to my soul than I could ever fully express in words. It will keep me warm and bear witness to many of my dreams, triumphs, and will likely also be stained with tears from defeat and pain...just as our love was a constant, so this will become that for me. It's amazing really. One minute, I stared at this closet full of clothes and memories and felt nothing but loss and confusion and in the next, it became so clear that this is the next best thing to the tangibles I no longer have.
It is impossible to imagine what life would be like without the ones who love you and who you love so deeply...I could never expect that of anyone....but I do hope you linger a little longer and get angry less quickly and dig deep in your love and relationships. I am thankful every day to have the cards and the letters and the knowledge that our marriage was solid, strong, and amazing....somehow, it makes the process just a little easier....because that's the thing about love--it doesn't matter who you are or where you are--if you have it, you know it and it will stay with you...and if you don't have it--you know that too, and it, too, will stay with you just the same.
Love, much like Chris, I cannot touch but I can feel it....and it feels like the warm sun on a summer day...or it feels like your first ice cream cone that you can remember....and sometimes it hurts....like the first time you skinned your knee....or the first time you really got your heart broken, I mean really broken.......but still, I believe in it....just like I believe one day I will hug him again.
The true irony is that of all the things we buy that we can't take with us--the things we cannot see or touch--faith, hope, and love--are the very things that cross all borders, countries, continents, and earthly places.....and they are the very things we miss the most when they are gone.
When staring at a bed that feels all too empty, I search for the tangible...something that makes Chris seem just little less far away. I have his cherished baby blanket with traces of his smell that comforts me on the really bad nights...but mostly clothes and shoes and many other tangible things to ground me. Funny though, as much as I search for just the right thing for comfort, it becomes so clear that those aren't the tangibles I desire. Unfortunately, there isn't a hug in a box or a kiss in a jar or his beautiful voice in a drawer....those are only in the deep wells of my heart now....and how I long for them each day.
In the last eight months I have found parts of myself I never knew. This loss has forced me to dig deeper than ever before...in hopes of reaching for the light as the days go on. On this journey I have found that most of the possessions I have are just things....they won't hold me in the middle of the night when I cry and they won't rejoice in my triumphs...they are just things....but they're my things and somehow I find myself tied to them....even though I know I cannot take these things with me. I know it firsthand as I sift through possessions that Chris loved and cherished....and still, I want to hold on just a bit longer.
When I began to put Chris' clothes away, I got many suggestions for where to donate or sell his clothes. somehow none of them sat well with me. While I don't doubt that there are many people who would benefit, it just wasn't okay for my heart....and then, my beautiful friend suggested a quilt. Immediately the idea spoke to me and my heart got this peaceful calm. No, it's not a hug or a kiss or a steady hand...but it's Chris...and the idea of wrapping myself in him brings more peace to my soul than I could ever fully express in words. It will keep me warm and bear witness to many of my dreams, triumphs, and will likely also be stained with tears from defeat and pain...just as our love was a constant, so this will become that for me. It's amazing really. One minute, I stared at this closet full of clothes and memories and felt nothing but loss and confusion and in the next, it became so clear that this is the next best thing to the tangibles I no longer have.
It is impossible to imagine what life would be like without the ones who love you and who you love so deeply...I could never expect that of anyone....but I do hope you linger a little longer and get angry less quickly and dig deep in your love and relationships. I am thankful every day to have the cards and the letters and the knowledge that our marriage was solid, strong, and amazing....somehow, it makes the process just a little easier....because that's the thing about love--it doesn't matter who you are or where you are--if you have it, you know it and it will stay with you...and if you don't have it--you know that too, and it, too, will stay with you just the same.
Love, much like Chris, I cannot touch but I can feel it....and it feels like the warm sun on a summer day...or it feels like your first ice cream cone that you can remember....and sometimes it hurts....like the first time you skinned your knee....or the first time you really got your heart broken, I mean really broken.......but still, I believe in it....just like I believe one day I will hug him again.
The true irony is that of all the things we buy that we can't take with us--the things we cannot see or touch--faith, hope, and love--are the very things that cross all borders, countries, continents, and earthly places.....and they are the very things we miss the most when they are gone.
.Eight Months.
2/24/10
Eight months seems like a long time....but it isn't....not when you're still finding your place. It is, though, long enough for some things...
It's long enough to begin to realize he's not coming back....but it's not long enough to accept it fully. I've reached a point where I've begun to stop half expecting Chris to walk in the door, or when I hear a strange noise, to stop thinking it might be him and instead realize it really is my cats being goofy. I've stopped walking by things in the store and thinking, wow, that would look great on him or he'd love that....but I also still think of what we'd be doing if he was here--even though I know he isn't. My mind knows he's not here....but my heart just isn't ready to accept it.
It's long enough to start cleaning out his closet...but it's not long enough to know what to do with those things. I began to put Chris' things away just a few short days ago. It was hard. All these emotions. I cried and laughed and got mad and sad and nostalgic...all in the same moment. It sounds crazy when I say it like that and, truthfully, it is. There were two shirts he bought on our honeymoon that he wore faithfully, his favorite Brewers t-shirts, Badgers sweatshirt, Packers t-shirts, hats, jeans, belts, socks, dress clothes, shoes, important papers, his wallet--still with his last $10 in it--and so many other things that mattered to him.....and each one, each thing, has a memory attached that brought every emotion I could bear to the surface. I apologized for all the stupid "reasons" I got mad, smelled each shirt just to see if I could still smell him and carefully folded it like he would and put it in a box....all this--his life, our life, came down to plastic totes I purchased to be extra sure that these very things would last....and yet, I don't know what I want to do with them. I'm not ready to donate them and I certainly don't want to give them away. I need to hold on to all of this a little while longer....but it's a step....and even though it was hard--these are just things, and yes, they're Chris' things--but the memories are what comfort me. The memories are what keeps him alive....and still, all those totes sit in my bedroom because I'm just not ready to pack them away.
It's long enough to start to say my and mine but not long enough to like it. Chris was an amazing man. He told me he knew I was the one when he started saying things like ours and we without even thinking twice about it. I still differentiate between "his things" and "my things" like his car and his magazines that still come and our house...even though, eventually, they're going to solely be just my things to people who don't know us. I often find myself telling people about our things, our house, our everything and people usually ask--well, where's the other half to this our? Usually, I dodge the question...but if I feel comfortable enough, I tell them he's in Heaven and that I love and miss him very much. It will always be ours to me and, in my heart, that's enough for now....bear with me, I'm learning as I go.
It's long enough to hope for a bright future but not long enough to let go of the past. I have more hope in my heart than most. I am trying to see, every day, the light at the end of the tunnel...but I'm just not ready to go straight to the end yet. In between where I am and the light there is a lot that needs to happen. I need to accept this change, let go of the five year plan I had, and give myself enough room to grow before I turn that corner. I don't know the person I was before this happened...and that's okay. I will never be her again. That's okay too. I'd like to think it has made me better in some aspects...and that it WILL make me better long term....it is teaching me patience, love--true, unconditional love, how to be gracious and thankful, how to roll with the punches, and how to be fully present in each moment.
It's long enough to be okay most of the days but not long enough to ever stop missing him. I'm still trying to find the place where life isn't so flat and cold but I'm finding myself having mostly pretty decent days. Days filled with more laughter than tears and finding ways to fill in the hard spots with good memories....but I miss him. Every minute of every day, and some days more than others. The missing him will never go away, but hopefully the ache and pain will dull and I will soon find he isn't as far as he seems. If I'm patient, I am hopeful things will again start falling into place.
It's long enough to start putting the pieces back together but not long enough to ever stop loving him. Chris gave me the best six years of my life. Today, I still feel so incredibly in love with him. It's hard to explain...this love. It's different. It's deep and comforting. It holds me together when I feel like I'm falling apart. It's changed me from the minute I met him...it made me want to be better...it still makes me want to be better. It's kept my priorities in place and given me the courage to fight for what and who I love each and every day. It's made me brave. It's never given up on me and much like the lighthouse we sat at on our very first date, it has guided me every single day since losing it all.
So, eight months is long enough to start to find myself again but not long to ever forget the man who saw the best in me every single day And, in all reality, no amount of time will ever let me forget the man who took me, 6 years ago, and protected me, comforted me, loved me, and gave me the world.....and I wouldn't ever want it any other way.
I will never ever forget and I'll love you 'til the end.
Eight months seems like a long time....but it isn't....not when you're still finding your place. It is, though, long enough for some things...
It's long enough to begin to realize he's not coming back....but it's not long enough to accept it fully. I've reached a point where I've begun to stop half expecting Chris to walk in the door, or when I hear a strange noise, to stop thinking it might be him and instead realize it really is my cats being goofy. I've stopped walking by things in the store and thinking, wow, that would look great on him or he'd love that....but I also still think of what we'd be doing if he was here--even though I know he isn't. My mind knows he's not here....but my heart just isn't ready to accept it.
It's long enough to start cleaning out his closet...but it's not long enough to know what to do with those things. I began to put Chris' things away just a few short days ago. It was hard. All these emotions. I cried and laughed and got mad and sad and nostalgic...all in the same moment. It sounds crazy when I say it like that and, truthfully, it is. There were two shirts he bought on our honeymoon that he wore faithfully, his favorite Brewers t-shirts, Badgers sweatshirt, Packers t-shirts, hats, jeans, belts, socks, dress clothes, shoes, important papers, his wallet--still with his last $10 in it--and so many other things that mattered to him.....and each one, each thing, has a memory attached that brought every emotion I could bear to the surface. I apologized for all the stupid "reasons" I got mad, smelled each shirt just to see if I could still smell him and carefully folded it like he would and put it in a box....all this--his life, our life, came down to plastic totes I purchased to be extra sure that these very things would last....and yet, I don't know what I want to do with them. I'm not ready to donate them and I certainly don't want to give them away. I need to hold on to all of this a little while longer....but it's a step....and even though it was hard--these are just things, and yes, they're Chris' things--but the memories are what comfort me. The memories are what keeps him alive....and still, all those totes sit in my bedroom because I'm just not ready to pack them away.
It's long enough to start to say my and mine but not long enough to like it. Chris was an amazing man. He told me he knew I was the one when he started saying things like ours and we without even thinking twice about it. I still differentiate between "his things" and "my things" like his car and his magazines that still come and our house...even though, eventually, they're going to solely be just my things to people who don't know us. I often find myself telling people about our things, our house, our everything and people usually ask--well, where's the other half to this our? Usually, I dodge the question...but if I feel comfortable enough, I tell them he's in Heaven and that I love and miss him very much. It will always be ours to me and, in my heart, that's enough for now....bear with me, I'm learning as I go.
It's long enough to hope for a bright future but not long enough to let go of the past. I have more hope in my heart than most. I am trying to see, every day, the light at the end of the tunnel...but I'm just not ready to go straight to the end yet. In between where I am and the light there is a lot that needs to happen. I need to accept this change, let go of the five year plan I had, and give myself enough room to grow before I turn that corner. I don't know the person I was before this happened...and that's okay. I will never be her again. That's okay too. I'd like to think it has made me better in some aspects...and that it WILL make me better long term....it is teaching me patience, love--true, unconditional love, how to be gracious and thankful, how to roll with the punches, and how to be fully present in each moment.
It's long enough to be okay most of the days but not long enough to ever stop missing him. I'm still trying to find the place where life isn't so flat and cold but I'm finding myself having mostly pretty decent days. Days filled with more laughter than tears and finding ways to fill in the hard spots with good memories....but I miss him. Every minute of every day, and some days more than others. The missing him will never go away, but hopefully the ache and pain will dull and I will soon find he isn't as far as he seems. If I'm patient, I am hopeful things will again start falling into place.
It's long enough to start putting the pieces back together but not long enough to ever stop loving him. Chris gave me the best six years of my life. Today, I still feel so incredibly in love with him. It's hard to explain...this love. It's different. It's deep and comforting. It holds me together when I feel like I'm falling apart. It's changed me from the minute I met him...it made me want to be better...it still makes me want to be better. It's kept my priorities in place and given me the courage to fight for what and who I love each and every day. It's made me brave. It's never given up on me and much like the lighthouse we sat at on our very first date, it has guided me every single day since losing it all.
So, eight months is long enough to start to find myself again but not long to ever forget the man who saw the best in me every single day And, in all reality, no amount of time will ever let me forget the man who took me, 6 years ago, and protected me, comforted me, loved me, and gave me the world.....and I wouldn't ever want it any other way.
I will never ever forget and I'll love you 'til the end.
.Stuck.
2/16/10
Sometimes I wonder if I will ever manage to dig myself out of this seemingly unending pile of emotions and logistics. Then I remember what's gotten me this far. Faith. Hope. Love.
When I don't know what to do or where to go I pray about it. I don't always get the answers I'm looking for or the sign I am waiting for....and sometimes I do. Sometimes it's a soft nudge and other times it's a brick crashing down on my head. Either way, I am open to listening and trying to learn from everything. Prayer. It grounds me...helps me to remember that there is someone much bigger who has plans for me and while I don't know them now...I trust they will unfold and I will, again, find happiness.
Hope fills my sails when the storm rushes in. If there is anything that has gotten me through on this journey, it is hope. It's not tangible. I cannot put it in a box for you to see....but you can see me, getting through every day, doing the very best I can....it's not always easy and going through something like this changes you....and still, I have hope that all my pieces will fit back together again someday....scars and all. I have hope that whatever hardship we face can be met head on with perserverance, patience, and love.
Love....even broken hearted, I have so much love in my heart because I have received so very much. There are amazing people in this world. Complete strangers who have offered more than most without even thinking twice. Friends who quickly become family. Family who truly teaches you unconditional love...all over again.
Don't get me wrong...there is an emptiness...and an ache that creeps in daily...but there is also laughter...and the hard days--well, mostly they're really hard....but the good days...they're really good. I take them when I can get them...I wake up each morning with renewed hope and faith that there will be enough love to sustain me on this journey...quickly realizing there is an unending supply.
Accepting is hard. Living without my amazing husband is harder. Losing him humbled me....took everything I had and shattered it...and then, it taught me not to take a single moment for granted. No regrets. I'd go through this every single day of my life to have had him at all....and that, my friends, is love.....so maybe, just maybe.....I'm not so stuck after all.
Sometimes I wonder if I will ever manage to dig myself out of this seemingly unending pile of emotions and logistics. Then I remember what's gotten me this far. Faith. Hope. Love.
When I don't know what to do or where to go I pray about it. I don't always get the answers I'm looking for or the sign I am waiting for....and sometimes I do. Sometimes it's a soft nudge and other times it's a brick crashing down on my head. Either way, I am open to listening and trying to learn from everything. Prayer. It grounds me...helps me to remember that there is someone much bigger who has plans for me and while I don't know them now...I trust they will unfold and I will, again, find happiness.
Hope fills my sails when the storm rushes in. If there is anything that has gotten me through on this journey, it is hope. It's not tangible. I cannot put it in a box for you to see....but you can see me, getting through every day, doing the very best I can....it's not always easy and going through something like this changes you....and still, I have hope that all my pieces will fit back together again someday....scars and all. I have hope that whatever hardship we face can be met head on with perserverance, patience, and love.
Love....even broken hearted, I have so much love in my heart because I have received so very much. There are amazing people in this world. Complete strangers who have offered more than most without even thinking twice. Friends who quickly become family. Family who truly teaches you unconditional love...all over again.
Don't get me wrong...there is an emptiness...and an ache that creeps in daily...but there is also laughter...and the hard days--well, mostly they're really hard....but the good days...they're really good. I take them when I can get them...I wake up each morning with renewed hope and faith that there will be enough love to sustain me on this journey...quickly realizing there is an unending supply.
Accepting is hard. Living without my amazing husband is harder. Losing him humbled me....took everything I had and shattered it...and then, it taught me not to take a single moment for granted. No regrets. I'd go through this every single day of my life to have had him at all....and that, my friends, is love.....so maybe, just maybe.....I'm not so stuck after all.
.What I Know For Sure.
2/13/10
What I know for sure:
Hard days come....special days, anniversaries, holidays, and random days when you really just wish this hadn't happened to you....and it's okay to be sad...take it one minute at a time....never rush into plans or be afraid to go if you have to...and always try to remember the times that made you laugh.
I will never again have what I lost. Knowing that and accepting that are two very different things. Nothing fills that void. That's okay too....so feeling the sadness and pain are part of the process.
It is necessary, sometimes, to bring yourself joy again. People do it in different ways. I got a puppy who makes me laugh and smile and loves me-happy or sad-and has filled my heart with a desire to go home...he's filled my home with an infectious laugh...and he's brought more joy to my life (and Maya's) than I knew could happen again. (Currently he is waving his tug in front of Maya to get her to play)
It is so important to do what makes you happy now instead of telling yourself you'll have the time later. If you don't have it now--it is likely that 10 minutes from now or 10 years from now won't matter much and you'll find you've spent your whole life waiting for the right time to come....and sometimes you'll have missed it all together.
Change is necessary. It is a part of life. It doesn't mean it's easy....but it's natural that it hurts sometimes and that you're not always sure if this is the right path to be on. The beauty of it all is that, at any point, you can make a choice and change it....for yourself. Even when it's not our choice that change has happened, it's always our choice in the way we choose to react to the situation. Sometimes character is built on your reactions rather than what actually happens to you.
It's okay to be sad if you also try every day to happy.
Singing is always good for the heart. Off key, right in pitch, an octave too high, however it works for you. Your spirit smiles when you sing.
It's good to re-prioritize your life every now and again. Healthy even.
Dreaming is important...even rearranging them when need be.
Prayer....it's healing...it's comforting...and it's always there.
Your family comes through for you when you need it most. You will never know how blessed you are until you realize all they do when you need them the most.
Your friends, the one who stay when it gets really bad, are the ones who will always be there...at three in the morning...at your best moments...in your life always.
You learn as you go...it's not always easy but you try your best. It's not perfect...it never will be. You learn to just keep swimming....it becomes a necessity.
I've learned this is your one life. This is all you've got. There are ups, there are downs...there's everything in between. Nothing is certain or permanent...and when you get too comfortable, sometimes the rug comes out from beneath you....but when that happens, stand back up, dust yourself off....and try again....always try again.
What I know for sure:
Hard days come....special days, anniversaries, holidays, and random days when you really just wish this hadn't happened to you....and it's okay to be sad...take it one minute at a time....never rush into plans or be afraid to go if you have to...and always try to remember the times that made you laugh.
I will never again have what I lost. Knowing that and accepting that are two very different things. Nothing fills that void. That's okay too....so feeling the sadness and pain are part of the process.
It is necessary, sometimes, to bring yourself joy again. People do it in different ways. I got a puppy who makes me laugh and smile and loves me-happy or sad-and has filled my heart with a desire to go home...he's filled my home with an infectious laugh...and he's brought more joy to my life (and Maya's) than I knew could happen again. (Currently he is waving his tug in front of Maya to get her to play)
It is so important to do what makes you happy now instead of telling yourself you'll have the time later. If you don't have it now--it is likely that 10 minutes from now or 10 years from now won't matter much and you'll find you've spent your whole life waiting for the right time to come....and sometimes you'll have missed it all together.
Change is necessary. It is a part of life. It doesn't mean it's easy....but it's natural that it hurts sometimes and that you're not always sure if this is the right path to be on. The beauty of it all is that, at any point, you can make a choice and change it....for yourself. Even when it's not our choice that change has happened, it's always our choice in the way we choose to react to the situation. Sometimes character is built on your reactions rather than what actually happens to you.
It's okay to be sad if you also try every day to happy.
Singing is always good for the heart. Off key, right in pitch, an octave too high, however it works for you. Your spirit smiles when you sing.
It's good to re-prioritize your life every now and again. Healthy even.
Dreaming is important...even rearranging them when need be.
Prayer....it's healing...it's comforting...and it's always there.
Your family comes through for you when you need it most. You will never know how blessed you are until you realize all they do when you need them the most.
Your friends, the one who stay when it gets really bad, are the ones who will always be there...at three in the morning...at your best moments...in your life always.
You learn as you go...it's not always easy but you try your best. It's not perfect...it never will be. You learn to just keep swimming....it becomes a necessity.
I've learned this is your one life. This is all you've got. There are ups, there are downs...there's everything in between. Nothing is certain or permanent...and when you get too comfortable, sometimes the rug comes out from beneath you....but when that happens, stand back up, dust yourself off....and try again....always try again.
.Seven Months.
1/24/09
There is a definite difference between getting through the first six months and then realizing you thought you got over the first real hump, only to find another mountain to climb. The weeks between six and seven have been a challenge for me.
At this point, I've decided it's time for me to really find my purpose in life again...except that, nothing feels the same as it once did. The joy I could once experience is not the same level as what I consider it to be now....things still feel flat...and no matter how hard I try, that flat feeling seems impossible to get rid of. Putting the life back in my living is much harder than I ever anticipated.
There is also a point in there you begin to realize that you've made it this far....and done so much so you know you can do it for the next month or year....but it doesn't change that your bed is still empty, your best friend is still gone, and you have to accept it and keep moving forward. If you're not moving forward and you're not moving backward and you're just hanging in there, you're not moving...and while that's okay sometimes, mostly I need to keep moving before the sadness sinks in too far....before the missing him takes over that we had the most wonderful life and marriage and I'd never trade it for the world.
For me, it's also allowed me to visit those really dark days and begin to put them in a box in my heart so the good memories we have are soon all I choose to remember. It is important to deal with the ugly days but I don't need to go there often and what I do need is our memories...and all of yours...i need to hear them so I smile and laugh...and I don't know a single person who doesn't need to smile and laugh too.
These last 4 weeks have been a roller coaster.....and I've only truly been on one my whole life-and completely on accident. Chris and I were at Universal studios and decided the mummy ride sounded fun until we were more than half way through the line and saw the sign that said: Pregnant women should not ride the roller coaster. We both looked at each other in fear and realized it was too late to turn back so we did it...held hands the whole time...and loved it.
There are many feelings on a roller coaster. Of course, the pit falls, but you know that flippity feeling in your stomach that everyone loves after going over a hill too fast....and the fear but the awesomeness of it all. Sometimes I have those feelings every day and sometimes I have the fear for long spurts...but mostly, I try to remember the best parts of our life and of my wonderful Chris....so that I never ever forget that flippity feeling and if I do....it doesn't stay away for long...so I don't forget the awesomeness of it all and that I am truly blessed to have had it for as long as I did....but most importantly...when I'm scared and in the thick of it and I can't just turn back-there he is holding my hand until the worst is over and I can find the joy again
There is a definite difference between getting through the first six months and then realizing you thought you got over the first real hump, only to find another mountain to climb. The weeks between six and seven have been a challenge for me.
At this point, I've decided it's time for me to really find my purpose in life again...except that, nothing feels the same as it once did. The joy I could once experience is not the same level as what I consider it to be now....things still feel flat...and no matter how hard I try, that flat feeling seems impossible to get rid of. Putting the life back in my living is much harder than I ever anticipated.
There is also a point in there you begin to realize that you've made it this far....and done so much so you know you can do it for the next month or year....but it doesn't change that your bed is still empty, your best friend is still gone, and you have to accept it and keep moving forward. If you're not moving forward and you're not moving backward and you're just hanging in there, you're not moving...and while that's okay sometimes, mostly I need to keep moving before the sadness sinks in too far....before the missing him takes over that we had the most wonderful life and marriage and I'd never trade it for the world.
For me, it's also allowed me to visit those really dark days and begin to put them in a box in my heart so the good memories we have are soon all I choose to remember. It is important to deal with the ugly days but I don't need to go there often and what I do need is our memories...and all of yours...i need to hear them so I smile and laugh...and I don't know a single person who doesn't need to smile and laugh too.
These last 4 weeks have been a roller coaster.....and I've only truly been on one my whole life-and completely on accident. Chris and I were at Universal studios and decided the mummy ride sounded fun until we were more than half way through the line and saw the sign that said: Pregnant women should not ride the roller coaster. We both looked at each other in fear and realized it was too late to turn back so we did it...held hands the whole time...and loved it.
There are many feelings on a roller coaster. Of course, the pit falls, but you know that flippity feeling in your stomach that everyone loves after going over a hill too fast....and the fear but the awesomeness of it all. Sometimes I have those feelings every day and sometimes I have the fear for long spurts...but mostly, I try to remember the best parts of our life and of my wonderful Chris....so that I never ever forget that flippity feeling and if I do....it doesn't stay away for long...so I don't forget the awesomeness of it all and that I am truly blessed to have had it for as long as I did....but most importantly...when I'm scared and in the thick of it and I can't just turn back-there he is holding my hand until the worst is over and I can find the joy again
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