Friday, May 24, 2013

3 Years

Three years ago today my world changed forever and nothing will be the same ever again. 
Loving you and missing you so much, John. How I miss that smile and the loving sparkle in your eyes. I am counting the days to our glorious reunion.

Who can say for certain
Maybe you're still here
I feel you all around me
Your memories so clear

Deep in the stillness
I can hear you speak
You're still an inspiration
Can it be
That you are mine
Forever love
And you are watching over me from up above

Fly me up to where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile to know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are

Are you gently sleeping
Here inside my dream
And isn't faith believing
All power can't be seen

As my heart holds you
Just one beat away
I cherish all you gave me everyday
'Cause you are mine
Forever love
Watching me from up above

And I believe
That angels breathe
And that love will live on and never leave

Fly me up
To where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile
To know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are

I know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Our last day

Three years ago today was the last day we shared on Earth.
I would give anything to hear your voice again, to hear your laugh, to feel your hug.

If I had known, I would have taken more pictures, I would have hugged you more, kissed you more, never gone to sleep, held on to you with all my might and never let you go.

Monday, May 20, 2013

This is the week

Three years ago today John and I left for our last trip together. We went to New York to visit my aunt and uncle and cousins.
I came home alone.
Four days later, in the early morning hours of that Monday, the day we were to come home, I awoke to find John gone, passed away.
I will never in my life as long as I live forget what that looked like and what that felt like.
The enormity of the realization that he was no longer here with me - there are no words.
So today starts our countdown to that anniversary.
Three years ago this date was the start of that trip.
Three years ago this day [Monday] was when John left.
And all week I will be remembering.
There were some good times that trip. I am so grateful. We were with family who loved us and we were so happy.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

The evolution of grief

A dear friend of mine has recently lost her son. His death was sudden and unexpected.
It's only been a month and she is struggling as you would expect. Yet, she felt the need to apologize for her inability to "recover". And she wondered why her son, why a young man who was so kind, so loving?
This is what I wrote to her based on what I have learned so far.

I wish I had magic words.
I don't.
If I did I would tell them to myself too.
I have spent the last 3 days crying. Not constantly. Probably not as intently as you are right now but still crying.
I can't tell you it gets better.
It doesn't.
I can tell you that it gets a little less raw, a little more bearable.
But I would not use the word better.
I remember those days you describe - of just getting out of bed, turning around and realizing it was night and wondering where did the day go.
Everyone asked what could they do and there was nothing they could do. The only thing I wanted was to have John back and no one could do that for me.
I went from 134 pounds to 119 pounds in a matter of weeks.
John and I always told each other how much we loved each other, how much we loved our life together.
We had survived step life, cancer, heart troubles, family crises, moving, financial struggles, school.....we thought we had finally reached a point where we could relax and just be and then in an instant it was all gone.
You don't recover from that.
And I felt the same way. John was a good person. Why did it have to be him?
Our marriage was the best. Why did it have to end?
So I am not going to lie to you and tell you it's going to get better. I can't say that.
All I can say is that you do the best you can with every day that you continue to wake up.
I am still struggling with a reason for me still being here without John.
I pray for an answer and trust/hope it will show up.
I am grateful that this time around I am the one who is sad and not John. I wouldn't want him to feel this way.
If it had to be either of us, I'm glad it's me.
I do little things in his memory that helps someone else.
I try to make John's death be a blessing in any way I can. Even for me.
I know I am a more spiritually strong person now than I was before.
That's something.
I express my feelings more.
I try not to sweat the small stuff knowing in the end it's all small stuff.
I appreciate the moment more - I am still working on this. But knowing how precious and fleeting life can be has definitely caught my attention.
I am learning to meditate.
I am learning how I can be in communication with John in the best way we can. I know he is not gone. I know he is still with me.
I look at this as the next phase in our marriage.
When you are ready maybe you can feel this way too.
Right now your grief is too new and the fact that you can get up, eat anything, communicate, write to us, breathe, is an accomplishment.
Grief is a physical, emotional, spiritual experience.
It's work, hard work.
And it is ongoing.
It changes, it evolves, it grows - but it doesn't go away.
It is part of you.
The task is to make it an ally, not an enemy.
In time you will feel like it won't destroy you.
But it is going to take time.
And it will come in waves.
I remember those middle of the night times. I felt like my insides were dissolving. I wanted to die. I prayed for death and it didn't come and I was disappointed to say the least.
I had no idea how I was going to continue.
Some things will trigger intense times.
Right now I am coming up on John's 3 year anniversary and it's hard.
Losing the girls has made it worse. Losing John's Mom was a set back and I went back into therapy.
Go easy on yourself. Have no expectations on yourself right now.
You are doing all you can.
We are here.
Talk to us.
We love you.
We will always love you.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Mother's Day

Another day that I can't wait to be over.
John and I have no children.
At least not two-legged ones.
But John and I reveled in our fur-family and he always made a fuss on Mother's Day - getting me cards from the "kids" and him, and flowers, and dinner out.
It was always a fun day.
After he left, I had John's Mom to dote on and that was good.
And I still had our "kids" to keep me company, especially Toby and Jessie.
But this is my first Mother's Day without John's Mom and the girls are gone now too.
A sad day.
Mother's Day - 2010

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

I ordered Toby's urn today

This makes the 7th urn I have had to get since 2008.
This is getting old.

Monday, May 6, 2013

In 18 days

I had a meltdown in the car today while driving home.
That seems to be happening a lot lately and is probably because it will be John's anniversary in 18 days.
I cried yesterday during Mass when it was time to hold hands and recite the Our Father. It reminded me of all the times John and I did that together and how at the end he would hug me and say "I love you." I wonder if the man holding my hand yesterday thought it was strange to see the woman next to him with tears streaming down her cheeks.
I was on my way to the bank and had to turn around and go back home - the pains in my stomach were so bad I knew I wouldn't make it through the time it would take to make the deposit. The deposit can wait until tomorrow. My sorrow couldn't.
How is it almost three years already?