Thursday, February 28, 2013

Its been 4 weeks

I love the work of Tyler Knott.  He posts a lot of things that are so relevant to how I am feeling right now.  Even more so was he placed this over a picture of the ocean.  John and I loved the beach.  So I saw this one and had to put it here. It describes how I feel so aptly.

Its been 4 weeks today since John passed.  I hate Thursdays now, because he passed on a Thursday. Each Thursday is just a reminder of what I lost that day.  I actually used to like Thursdays. Now I dread them, or at best just wish I could skip over every Thursday.



  1. I hate Fridays. My Friday is your Thursday. Every Friday comes and it's one more day, one more week, one more month that I haven't spent with my precious husband. And every Friday it sucks.

  2. Yep, that is exactly how it is. Every Thursday is a shitty day. Even if I dont even start off on a bad note, its impossible not to remember how "X" many weeks ago I rushed into my bedroom to my husband's side because he wasnt breathing and remembering how I tried, along with one of the hospice workers, to gently shake him or move his body to see if he would begin again...but I knew from how he looked that it wouldnt happen. I remember the whole time muttering ", not right now. It cant be right now, the kids needed to see him again. This cant be f*cking happening right now. They said he had a couple of weeks left." and silently begging in my head for him to wake up. The hospice worker continued to try stimulating him to breathe while I placed my fingers on his wrist to feel his very faint, slowing pulse. I stayed until I couldnt feel it anymore...then I went to the front to call my mom to tell her he had just passed and I needed her RIGHT AWAY. I remember the hospice lady coming to find me to tell me he was gone- which I knew- and she held me and I cried and cried and cried. I eventually (after making a couple of other phone calls, like to his half brother and my boss) went and sat with John's body, caressing his hair and skin and whispering to him all the things I still wanted to say to him until my mom got there, at which point I just totally broke down.

    Its nearly impossible for me not to vivdly reply this in my head every single Thursday.

    I'm sorry you have a Friday. Its not fair. I shouldnt be a 30 year old woman who hates a day of the week because of what it represents. There is nothing OK about that.