Today marks 10 months

Ten months, almost a year. Monday marked 43 weeks.
A lifetime ago. Literally.
And still John has not returned.
And still my heart waits.
This will never be OK.
I'm sure people must be tired of me and my grieving. But you know what? I don't care. I am going to be this way until the day I die and it's going to be all right. To those who think that people who have lost their soul mate "move on" I have  a flash for you. It's not true. We cover it up. We look like we are OK. We pretend. We are able to stop crying in public [for the most part] but it's never OK. The heart-wrenching grief is always in our thoughts, our hearts, our souls. We will always miss our mate, our other half, our better half.
I have another flash. If you know someone is going through this grief, let them know it's OK to grieve and you grieve with them. Don't let them feel alone. Don't let them feel that they are the only ones who miss their love. Grief is awful. A kind word, a hug, a tear shared is appreciated more than you can ever know.

Happy Wedding Day, Sweetheart!

Twenty-three years ago today we were married in Church, our second wedding. John and I had eloped in 1981 and later decided to have our marriage blessed in the Catholic Church. So, on a very cold day in March, we had our dream wedding.

Then, we had a reception for friends and family and the best party ever.

John was so handsome in his tuxedo with tails.

It was a day we both loved to talk about and it always brought us a big smile, one of the happiest days of our life.
Happy Wedding Day, Sweetheart. I love you..

Happy St. Patrick's Day, Sweetheart!

Thirty-three years ago tonight, on another St. Patricks' Day, in a world now a lifetime away, John and I became Us. From our first tentaive hand holding, our first gentle kiss, we knew we were starting on a journey that would be more meaningful than anything we had ever known. Our hearts and our souls just knew we were meant for each other. And now today I celebrate that love alone, knowing that somewhere John is smiling and remembering too. And waiting until that time when we can celebrate together again.

Happy St. Patrick's Day, my Sweetheart!

Bunkie Day!

Today is Bunkie Day, the day that John moved in with me thirty-one years ago and we celebrated that day every year. John coined the phrase and it was our special day. I was his Bunkie, a name that meant so much to me and still does.
John made us lasagne that night to celebrate our first dinner living together.

I miss you, my Baby.
Happy Bunkie Day!

Today marks 42 weeks

Forty-two weeks since the world changed for me. Forty-two weeks since the one person who meant the most to me was ripped from my life. And yet it seems like it just happened. I remember thinking at that moment that I wanted to die too. And yet I am still here. I am functioning. I am getting things done. But there is no joy. There is no Joy.

I am stuck and I know it and I don't care

A woman I know only through the Internet is going through the same thing I am, having lost her mate of many years a mere two months before I lost John. As I follow her path in her blog, I see so many similarities. We belong to a sad sisterhood, she and I. One I wish I could relinquish my membership in.
One thing that strikes me about her writings is that even though she is two months ahead of me in her path, we are still very much in the same place - and that place is static. Grief knows no timetable. Grief does not sit there and say "OK, you have reached the 9 month mark. Things are moving along. You're better now." There is no better and sad is the same whether it's 9 months or 12 months or 2 months. Maybe I don't scream as often, maybe I don't cry as intensely so often but I still do both. There are days when I want to rip down walls and break rocks, I am so upset over what has happened to John, to me, to us. John is not here, damn it. He should be. He was supposed to be. We were going to grow old together. We were going to reminisce together. We had plans. We were going to enjoy so many things and just "be" together. I/he/we have been robbed and I'm not going to ever get over that.

Grief is so hard

I have been working so hard at trying to do this right but I finally realized today that no matter what I do and no matter how well I do it, the end result is the same. John is still gone.
It seems sometimes that my mind is playing a huge mean trick on me. Sometimes I feel that if I do all the right things, say all the right things, behave in the right way that somehow the result will be different. That I will wake up from this nightmare and all will be forgotten and life will go back to the way it was. John will be here with me and we can go on as we had planned.
But the reality is that will never happen.
And the enormity of that realization brings me to my knees.
And I don't think I can ever accept this.

Just the Two of Us

I woke up with this song in my head.

Today is my birthday

It was hard spending today without you, my Love, my first birthday without you in thirty-three years. But I am closer to being with you again with every passing day.