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.

(Almost) a year ago...

Isnt that the truth?

Tomorrow marks one year since the surgery John had on his arm for his misdiagnosed "pinched ulnar nerve" (which turned out to be a malignant peripheral nerve sheath tumor...), andon 11/3 it will be one year since his diagnosis.

I'm acutely aware of the reality and severity of my situation, but this tiny little part of my brain still has trouble coming to terms with the fact that the "movie reel" of those four months that continuously plays in my head is, in fact, REAL.  

John was misdiagnosed, not treated for cancer for a year until it because so bad it could not be treated, and then in less than four months, he was gone.

No one could've ever convinced me this where where I would be a year later.  And yet here I am.

It has been 8 months and a few days since John has passed.  Time has not made things easier.  People tell you that it will, but people lie.  I wouldnt call this situation "better"- I'd call it "different".  You become more used to what happened, you accept it more, you carry on with your life as best you can....but no, it doesnt become "easier" to lose your husband and the father of your children.  Its a situation I can never fix and it bothers me to no end that no matter what, I never, ever will be able to change the outcome of what happened to John.

I miss you tons, John.  More than anyone would ever know.  Not a day goes by that I dont think of you, miss you, or wish you were here.  In fact, sometimes its multiple times a day.  Sometimes it feels like its all day.

I wish you were here for me and more importantly, I wish you were here for our kids.  

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.

Stuck

There's someone missing...

I took a picture with the kids yesterday for Easter.  It hurts my heart to take "family" pictures without John.  Its like there is always someone missing from the picture.  I can pretty much just see him right in there, where he should be- next to me.  But there is no John there.  There will never be John there again.  I hate that, its not right.  But I dont want to not have group pictures for occasions, so we took one anyway. 

"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.

The last video I have of John

This is the last video clip I have with John in it.  The kids got an air hockey table at Christmas and John hadnt gotten to play it with them.  One day a couple of weeks after Christmas while in his wheelchair we were able to position him in a way to play a few rounds with our youngest son.  As you can tell, our youngest was very proud to score a point on his dad ;) 

You can see John's arms/hands were beginning to give him trouble (as in he was losing control of them- we knew that would happen from the tumor, per the Dr's, but that did not make it any easier when we began to see it happening).  That really was the turning point for him- his arms began to go out, then within a rapid period of time basically did not work at all.  Within a couple of weeks of the onset of this he had passed.

Even with difficulty controlling his arms/hands and barely able to hold the air hockey mallet, he still played a couple of rounds of air hockey with our boy. I will always cherish these little videos I have of him, especially this one while he was sick and could barely control his arms/hands, but still did what our kid wanted him to do- spend time playing with him.  That's just part of why he was such a great dad- he'd do nearly anything for the kids, even if it was something that he had to struggle to do.  It broke his heart when he lost the use of his arms completely for lots of reasons, but mainly bc it left him much less able to interact with the kids or play with them.  It broke my heart for the same reason, and also because it left him so defeated.  We also knew that the loss of his arms meant that he would likely go downhill somewhat quickly...I didnt think it would be as quick as it was, and I'll never know if the infection caused him to pass, or if it was in fact the tumor, but either way, it was WAY too fast- much less time than we had hoped for when we began this nightmare, but also way less time than we expected once we were told there was nothing anyone could do for him.