One year. The first year is over. Here it is. A time when some people breathe a sigh of relief because they think I can easily move on now and forget about him. Forget about him. Forget him.
I hear the second year is harder-a widow’s secret, I guess and I am preparing myself for it.
It’s really hard to hear my children speak of their father with sentences beginning with “Do you remember in the triage room” or “When Dada was in the Emergency Room” or “I remember when Dada was in Hospice”. These conversations happened a lot this past year. Can you imagine-having these with your children or being a child yourself and starting conversations with those sentences? Have you ever? We talk about it but I also bring up times when he was alive and well. Times when we were a family with no worries and only good times. I don’t want my kids to remember just when he was dying. His dying. His cancer. His death. His life will shape them and mold them. It already has. They breathe life but they pause at his death and how unfair this is. They deserved to grow up with a father. The deserved a worry free childhood. They deserve much more.
For these 366 days, I have cried every single day. Every. Day. I didn’t think it was possible for the human body to do that. Honestly, I don’t see myself stopping anytime soon. I cry for my children. I cry for the cancer. I cry for our future. I cry over finances. I cry for the past. I cry for the future that will never happen with the 4 of us….for the 2 of us. Mostly though, I cry for John. I feel so bad he died the way he did. No one deserved to die like that. He was a good person. He wouldn’t hurt a fly-he ran away from them because he was so scared of them. He was an amazing human being. So kind and gentle. I just can’t believe it.
I wish I can say I learned a lot this past year or that I took big steps toward a better life but I can’t. It’s a haze. I don’t remember much of it.
I am trying to understand a world without John and I cannot. I will never understand why this happened and I will always mourn him and ache to see him. I miss him. Always.