Had we had known 3 years ago today that all he had left was 17 days to live, how would we have lived?
Not much differently really.
Because of his leg injury, we were able to spend extra time in bed every morning.
We sat around and watched lots of Netflix, ate all of his favorite food, and took lots of little naps.
His last 17 days were special to me because we were able to just sit, eat, and be merry. I love that I was able to love on him a little extra for those last 17 days.
At Least
The thing I hear most often.
At least you’re young.
At least you can find love again.
At least you didn’t have any children.
At least you have family for support.
At least you know where he is.
AT LEAST!!!
The words aren’t helpful, supportive, aren’t healing, aren’t kind.
There is not at least in death.
Dear Men, I come with instructions now.
Haha!
I bought this book, How to Date a Widow 101, for a very special friend. 😇
(That’s all I’ll say for now).
I’m complicated enough as it is, then add Greta on top of that…
Yikes!
I learned so much @campwidow over the weekend, including navigating the whole complicated world of letting a boy in my life again. (So, please don’t die!)
I’m so glad I had the opportunity to go.
It feels good to know that I am, in fact, not crazy and I’m just grieving still (and forever).
Thank you Camp Widow @soaringspiritsint, until next year.
Which stage of grief does resentment fall under?
Every time I’m in my posh room, I’m a bit resentful that I just can’t do it full time since he died.
I miss it.
It was my passion.
I spent the majority of my days working in here.
Now there are times when I don’t step one foot in this room for days!
I’ve yet to find a balance between working two full-time jobs, running my business, working out, and having a social life.
I’ll find it, right?
The balance.
I mean other people do it.
It can’t be THAT hard.
Oh, and it’s a major, chaotic mess in here. Please don’t call the fire department, or wait, yeah, maybe you should call them, a fireman is all I need to make me feel better.
🧑🏼🚒🧑🏿🚒🧑🏽🚒
Two years ago today, what started out as a seemingly normal day ended as everything but…
Two years ago today, he went HOME.
I still hear the thump of his fall, the sound of his moan, the sound of him gasping for air, my screams at the 911 operator quite vividly.
“HURRY! 🤬🤬🤬”
I still question why he didn’t tell me anything.
I still question if they really did “everything they could”.
I still question everything, though knowing there was absolutely nothing I (or anyone) could have done differently to change the circumstances.
I still wish this wasn’t reality.
When ‘they’ said the second year would be harder, I didn’t think it would happen to me. After all, I’ve been doing very well with Greta lately.
But then the anxiety came with a vengeance on Thanksgiving day and if this is just a taste of it, God help me!
The entire day (Thanksgiving), I was on this little weird grief cloud, some of you may know what that odd-feeling is like.
Like almost walking in a dream, knowing that I’ll wake up at some point to deal with the anxiety building up.
I’ve learned that this is a defense mechanism. Something my body does to protect itself from an anxiety attack.
Then I “woke up” just minutes before having to go to my parents.
I had to calm down before I ended up bringing Greta to my parents. I wasn’t going to be the party pooper.
I waited and calmed down. I went to dinner but I didn’t stay long, then I came back home to have a couple of drinks, plop myself on the couch, and do some online shopping.
Yep, sure enough, the second-year holiday was worse than the first.
And it sucks!
Up next…
Christmas
His Birthday
His Home-going.
I would like to be asleep for the next four months, please.
Miss you, Bubb!
Desperately.
The advice one of my dearest friends that I’ve made this last year has given me.
He knows what he’s talking about after all. He too lost the love of his life.
I take his advice as expert advice. He’s been doing this way longer than me!
So I listened.
I went for a run.
The runs suddenly turned into workout sessions and about a year later here I stand, in the best shape of my life.
Fueled by grief, because I refuse to let grief overtake me.
So, if suddenly you find yourself in the depths of grief. Let me pass on this piece of advice…
Go for a run!
And just like that…
One whole year that the world has turned without his existence.
Some days it seems like 5 days ago and others it seems like 50 yrs.
Life has slowly started to make some sort of sense again. Though some days I’m still dumbfounded and wonder if this actually happened.
I miss him dearly.
Every single day, every single second of the rest of my existence, but I chose to move forward. I refuse to be held captive by the deception of Greta (what I call my grief).
I celebrated the memory of his life yesterday. I took the day off in observance of his passing. I dedicated the entire day to his memory.
And today I go back to this new normal. My new life. Back to work, back to life, back to reality.
I am my boss’s Secret Santa, talk about pressure!
I got him candy, some silly socks as requested and I handcrafted decor for his office.
But as I was reading his profile, this tie came to mind!
And so I gifted him my husband’s tie. This is what I wrote on the note:
I believe gifts have to have a story. That they have to be practical, that they are better when they are handmade, and that second hand is always best.
Like this tie.
Though not handmade, it is practical, it is second-hand, and it has a story.
Boy does it have a story.
This tie was owned by the greatest man I’ve ever known.
Had you complimented his tie while he was wearing it, he would have taken it off and given it to you without question. Even as a total stranger, but in return, he would have asked for you to listen to one of his infamous dad-jokes which would have likely been made up on the spot.
He was the type of guy who would never leave a room without making at least one friend.
He was a NAVY vet who was funny, kind, wise, easy-going, and always stood up for what was right even if it went against the status quo.
He would have loved knowing that this tie is going to be worn by an elementary school principal, his best audience after all happened to be 5-12yr olds. They always laughed at his jokes!
Don’t be surprised if magically you start thinking up of random knock-knock jokes, puns, etc. It’s likely some of the Wesley Magic woven inside of it.
Merry Christmas, I hope you like the story of this tie.
In a complicated relationship with…
Grief.
About two months ago I decided it was time.
Time to wear my wedding rings differently.
Wearing them on my left hand just felt fake. Like I was in denial. But not wearing them at all wasn’t an option.
So I’ve been wearing them on my right hand. On the days when the grief is heavy, I wear them on my left (so please be kind to me if you see me wearing them on my left).
This grief thing is so complicated. It’s a continuous internal struggle with self-doubt and questioning the things that may seem so simple to others.
Friends, it isn’t that simple.
The struggle is real!
Real hard, real confusing, real crazy, real sad, real comforting, real beautiful, real weird, real UGH!
Mimisdbest 