Anniversary

Today would’ve been my 9th wedding anniversary with John.

Heartbroken doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel today. I miss him so much, I grieve for him heavily and I grieve for our children, who miss him but have no real clue on all that they are missing out without their father, knowing one day it will really hit them what it meant to lose their amazingly loving father at such young ages.

I’d give anything for a few minutes to just look at his face, or talk to him.

My poor John, how I wish you were still with us…more than anyone will ever know.

A favorite picture

This is probably one of my favorite pictures from the time during John's illness.  Its also one of the pictures that make me cry the most.

John frequently had to remove his wedding ring during his illness- even from that night I brought him to the ER.  Between the 4 surgeries in 6 weeks, the frequent MRI's or other scans, treatments, therapies, or even his 3 radio surgeries (radiation) he often had to remove his ring and give it to me to hold for safe keeping.  John's hands and fingers were much larger than mine and his ring was huge, even on my thumb.  I took to wearing it on a chain around my neck so that I wouldnt lose it.  I frequently would have the ring for days at a time, especially when he would have surgery and be in ICU and couldn't wear it. 

But he would always ask for it back when he was able to wear it again.  I always loved putting it back on his finger, just like the day we got married.

One day after I put it back on him, I snapped this picture. 

8 years and counting, I thought. 

I had hoped we would make it maybe to 9, or maybe even 10. We still believed he could receive some treatment @ MD Anderson at that point that would prolong his life somewhat.  Any amount of additional time wouldve been precious.

I wish we had been right.

These days, his ring is on that same chain I wore, hanging from his urn.  My engagement ring sits in a jewelry box, waiting to be given to my daughter one day as a memento. I've moved my wedding band to my right ring finger.

It never stops looking so out of place on the wrong hand.

Things a 6 year old boy should not have to ask.

Jack came to sit with me & then asked me when John's birthday is. I replied to him, telling him the date (its a few months away).

Then he asks 'Can we celebrate daddy's birthday, even though he died? That's ok right?'

"How are you?" or "How are you doing?"

I get this question a lot.  Its always THE question people first ask me.  I get why, and I understand the question is generic and well meaning...it also happens to be my LEAST favorite question.

A couple of the last pictures I have of John

I actually have a few newer than this but he is sick (in the hospital during the 4 days before his passing) in them, so I felt like posting the last GOOD ones we had here for the good memories.

This one is from 9 days before he passed, on our son's birthday.  We have a family party @ the house for the kids on their birthday and bigger party later.  J was feeling well enough to get up into his wheelchair to help us celebrate that day.  He was a great dad- even if he hadnt felt well enough he probably still wouldve gotten into that wheelchair because of our son's birthday.

Then this picture was from the 26th- 5 days before he passed and a day before he went into the hospital with the infection.  He spent 4 days in the hospital and came home on the 30th, then passed on the 31st.

This is also a couple of the last pictures of us together.  The first is when I had crawled into his hospital bed (in our room- he was home with hospitce) to cuddle with him for one of the last times and we had both fallen asleep.  Being able to sleep in the same bed was something that was few and far between once he was diagnosed.  Hospital beds arent exactly built for two, plus when J was hurting or needed to be rolled a certain way or had all of his equipment in bed it was impossible to get in there.  I loved the few times I was able to do it. 

The second is one of us being goofy one night in our bedroom.  We moved all the furniture around in our room to make sure his hospice bed could be close to me and in our bedroom so I could take care of him at any time he needed. We spent time at night watching movies and just enjoying each other, or sometimes grieving and crying and comforting each other.  The happier times were always better, it was hard to see him upset and John hated seeing me upset.

Both of these were from a couple of weeks (maybe 2-3 weeks) before his passing.

 

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step

Today my single step is that I managed to go to work, every day, for a full week. 

Three week widow

Today marks the 3rd week since John passed.  3 weeks. 21 days. 504 hours.