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In All Honesty

You just wouldn’t believe the hole in me, because you died.

You would be the first to yell at me to let it go a bit.

Like I said, you wouldn’t believe the hole in me, because you died.

366 Days

2015-calendar-holidays1

Three hundred and sixty-six days have come and gone since we took you off life support.

I’ve had so many firsts and one year marks that I’m sorta numb. My first birthday without you. The one year since we last spoke on the phone. The one year anniversary of the stroke. Your first Birthday, after you died. The first anniversary of removing your life support. There are just so many moments like that.

The oldest boys, plus Joey (I hear you laugh) were here Christmas eve and Christmas day. We spent our first Christmas without you, together. We made your fondant for the first time, without you.

I feel invisible in this world you left behind. I can say something to Mr. Y and it’s like I am not even in the room with him, like I don’t exist in his world. My feet want to run, but my heart knows if I do, I will never see him again. So I am starting to ask myself if that is so bad, or OK? I mean, he’s NOT feeling me, so why stay?

Still, no major life choices while feeling…this.

I miss you.

Slow Realizations

I remember saying to your kids,  the day/night before the memorial…”You know, I know your mom never really was a Foo Fighter fan, but there’s this one song…I hear it and it drops me to my knees.” #1 replies that there is a song for him as well. We both said, “My Hero”.

This morning, I realized I am doing with the Foo Fighters, what I have done after every other life altering event. I listened to 1GiantLeap for two or three years, almost exclusively. Same with Eminem:Recovery, after The Boy.

Apparently, for you my Dear non loving Grunge Head…It’s not about you, it’s about me, so you get the Foo Fighters. I hear each song I have known for years in a new way that relates to you.

This is the crime against your life…I know.

I know, you gave your best to one person and you were used up till, well, the next one came along.

I know that sadly, someone will grow up not knowing that: Someone got the best of you.

I know.

I also know what song I will dedicate to you if I reach the end of my long living road of grief.

Love you.

Two Days

In two days,  your memorial happens.

Two days.

I sat at your bedside for eleven days. I said so many things,  told you how loved you were,  took a list in with me the last night I saw you to say every last thing I could think of saying and I still feel like I haven’t said goodbye.

At the time I remember saying I’d never say goodbye because you’ll always be with me.  I feel like I’ll be going to watch other people say goodbye,  but my heart knows in some way,  I’ve got to say a kind of letting go goodbye.  You will still always be with me,  but I’m going to have to cut a cord or something.  I don’t feel like I’ll ever have closure or peace, but I’m desperately craving and seeking both.

The Hole

Dear Melissa,

I haven’t been writing, because I fell in a hole again.

In five days, I “bury” you at your memorial. I definitely feel like I am going to watch other people say good-bye to you, because I don’t think I’ll ever say good-bye, even though you need to let me go.

I dreamed of you all last night, woke up with a few tears falling and heard myself saying good-bye, but don’t go yet. I am scared this is going to be an emotional and hard week.

You told me (?) that was you and that you did come to me that night to show me how you were seeing things and what your reality would be on life support. I wish it wouldn’t have freaked me out when I realized you were with me. I wish I hadn’t gasped and said “MEL!”, and then woke up.

I miss you.

Please let go of me a little. I know that sounds weird coming from someone who will never let you go all the way, but you can’t keep hanging onto the part that makes me ache. I need to remember our friendship and love and not the last two weeks of your life and death.

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