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.

Odd, consuming feelings

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

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.

If there is no struggle, there is no progress

Last week at work, we had a client come into our office.

The last time I had seen him was during the time John was still in the hospital and we had spoken briefly about John's illness and he was very nice and said he had been thinking of us.  I was in @ work so little while John was sick that I had not seen him since.

So when he came in, naturally he asked me "How is your husband doing?"

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?'

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. 

Laughing and crying

A friend of mine made a post to me today about a memory she had earlier today involving John.  I actually like when people do this- a lot of times they are stories I had completely forgotten about. 

She mentioned that as she heard a particular song on the radio today & it reminded her of a trip we all (John & I, her and her husband) took one night to a casino.  We had a blast, and by the time we left the guys were quite intoxicated.  John kept putting on a bunch of songs and she and I had to listen to those two "serenade" us the whole way home.  The drive was easily an hour and their singing was hilarious- basically like really bad karaoke inside a car.

She mentioned in her comment how this memory made her both laugh and cry, and how people in traffic probably thought she was crazy.

I told her not to worry about it- if she looks crazy, I must look downright insane most of the time, because I do that quite often.