And its almost one year...less than 24 hours and counting.

Tomorrow marks the day.


The day I have been dreading for some time.


Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of John's death.  He passed at 12:55 PM on 1/31/2013.


Today has not been easy.  I am worried about how hard tomorrow might be.


This all still feels like some crazy nightmare that I cant possibly be living through.  But I am.  And one year passed in the blink of an eye and things may be...different...but they surely are not easier.


I don't even know what to expect of tomorrow...this situation still sucks so bad. 


I just want my damn life back.

Story of my life these days...

This is surely how I feel treated these days.  Not by everyone- some people still get it.  But by most of the world- friends who aren't close friends, co-workers, people you sort of causally know who know your story- this is how things usually are these days. I guess I do a great job of putting on my brave face or keeping myself together, and so people think you are always doing well.  But that is not true.  I am not OK sometimes (maybe more than sometimes...) and I am most definitely suffering.  The holidays are already hard and we haven't even gotten to them yet.  Meanwhile the anniversary of his death is looming over me in January.  The date just sits in my mind, like a mountain...overshadowing so much, daring me to think about it too hard so that the tears start falling in hot rivets down my face.  And so, too often, I pretend like thing are OK.  I refuse to let myself go to certain places in my heads during certain times of the day.  I avoid things that I think will be too emotionally painful. Then when I'm sad...I'm very quiet.  And so people think I'm OK.

Looks can be deceiving, people.

6 months

Six months.

Six fucking months since John died. I miss him so much that I cannot accurately find the words to describe it.

Its probably an understatement to say I am not doing so well today.  The feelings of dread and depression have been slowly sneaking over me for a few days before this, but today it has hit me very hard.

I really cant believe its been 6 months.  6 months without seeing his face, hearing him speak (aside from those books that he recorded for the kids before he died...but they sound a little "off" from what I remember his voice being like....almost like listening to the voice of a ghost), hear him laugh, talk to him.  Its still so surreal sometimes.

The pain still rips me apart. I'll have some periods where it wont be so bad, or even...alright.  Then, like a freight train, some sort of "date" or "anniversary" of something comes along and just knocks you back down again.

The kids don't realize what day it is.  In a lot of ways I am glad they are fairly insulated (most likely due to their age- its a double edged sword- they're saved a lot of hurt bc they're so young, but they're missing out on so much bc he died so young...) from all of these things.  They don't remember that he died on a Thursday, so a Thursday is just another day for them.  They don't remember that it was 1/31 when he passed and so they don't even connect that today is 7/31 and what it means.  It helps that they don't have to suffer these days like I do, but at the same time...

I don't want to be suffering either.

24 weeks

Yesterday made 24 weeks since John passed away. In 12 days it will be the actual ‘6 month’ anniversary of John passing away. Funny how that week/month thing works. Both days are significant, either way.

I spent the day very busy with school registration for our kids, but I was not remiss to be acutely aware of what the day was. Being so busy helped it not be as hard of a day as I expected it might me but it still was sad. I had to, of course, talk about it during registration when you’re confirming the parent information. Luckily for me (insert sarcasm here…) the lady helping me was also a school counselor in our district, so she started to asking me how I was doing, telling me how sorry she was, etc. I always appreciate the sentiment, of course, but  I probably would’ve preferred the type of people who just say ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ and left it at that. One lady even started asking me questions, like ‘what did he die of?’ I kept answers brief to discourage her from too many questions.

Thankfully it worked.

I re-live what happened enough on my own, thank you…I surely don’t want to give in depth details to total strangers.

And although I was always the parent who handled registration for the kids, it made me think of how hard the first days of school will be this year. John didn’t always make it out to the first day itself bc of work, but if he didn’t he made sure to go to the meet the teacher/open house events in the days following. Now I’ll be handling all that myself. My mom probably will come to help but it isn’t the same. It’s not John, and its not us with our kids.

It sucks.  That is an understatement.

Lots of things are like that now…events, parties, things for family/the kids, holidays. They all serve as additional reminders as to what I’ve lost and who isn’t here.

It would be nice to celebrate something or have some event or activity pass without it ALSO being some painful reminder as to what happened.

Maybe one day it won’t always be like that.

Heading into the half way point...

So this week (on Thursday), we will see the 24th week since John has passed away.  On July 31st, it will be the official "6 month" anniversary date since John passed.

On one hand its hard to believe its come so quickly, but at other times, the 6 months has felt like 6 years.

The reality is that you will grieve forever...

"The reality is that you will grieve forever.  You will not "get over" the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it.  You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered.  You will be whole again but you will never be the same.  Nor should you be the same, nor would you want to."

Love has gone and left me

Love has gone and left me and the days are all alike;
      Eat I must, and sleep I will, — and would that night were here!
But ah! — to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike!
      Would that it were day again! — with twilight near!

Love has gone and left me and I don’t know what to do;
      This or that or what you will is all the same to me;
But all the things that I begin I leave before I’m through, —
      There’s little use in anything as far as I can see.

Love has gone and left me, — and the neighbors knock and borrow,
      And life goes on forever like the gnawing of a mouse, —
And to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow
      There’s this little street and this little house.

like an earthquake to the heart...

I talk a lot about my own grief and how much I miss John. At the same time, I never forget how much my kids are hurting too (in fact their pain contributes greatly to my own, because as a mother you want to fix things for your kids, and this is one thing I cannot fix- no matter what)- so when I see things like this from them, it really crushes my heart.

 

My youngest wrote this during his therapy session on Saturday.

His voice & the forgotten video

I came across a video from my phone of the day John came home with hospice (in December, just days before Christmas) when the kids came home from school and realized he was home and got to see him AT home for the first time in nearly 2 months. They had seen him in the hospital a handful of times once he was transferred back to our city but he hadn't been home since the diagnosis.  It had been some 50-odd days or so since he had returned to our home.

Odd, consuming feelings

Sometimes I find myself feeling "What's real and what's not...and who even knows anymore??