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.

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.

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."

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.

And just like that...

      
Its been 15 weeks.


I want this back.  I WANT MY LIFE BACK.  I know I cant have it…but I’d give just about anything to have it back.

We used to feel like a family. We WERE a family.  Now we just feel like a fractured, empty shell of one.  It always- ALWAYS- feels like someone is missing.  But that’s because someone is.  Every “family” thing we do, every “family” picture we take…it feels like someone is screaming a reminder at me that something is wrong, someone is missing. But that’s because someone is.


At least if he was alive, I could see his face or hear his voice.  I think anything would be better than this.

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.

The only one (for the most part, anyway...)

Something I've discovered in these 3 months as a widow is that it really is SO easy to take for granted having a partner in your life who helps out with things. They always were there and you probably never thought twice about how much easier life used to be in that aspect.

When your partner passes away, it turns out that there are many, many situation in which you end up being "the only one" able to shoulder the burden because you are the only one LEFT.

Side note: have I ever mentioned I hate the word "widow"?  I do. I loathe it.  I know its what I "technically" am, but I just hate the word. Or maybe I don't hate the word so much as I hate that the word applies to ME.  How can I be a widow?? I'm only 31. But damn it if that isn't the cards I was handed and the life I am living...life is full of surprises and they aren't always good ones.  Sometimes those surprises are the stuff nightmares are made of.

Moving on...

Unnecessary

Dear medical & billing coding persons and/or the insurance industry,

Maybe one day...

"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

Eleanor Roosevelt

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.

"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.

Three week widow

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

And so it ends...

I have to share the awful news...

When nothing feels "right" anymore...

I hate how nothing ever feels right anymore. Literally, everything feels wrong. I spend so much time wondering how long I will feel like this- if I always will feel like this.