Separation

Loving so deeply and losing so profoundly has made me a different person. I see life differently. I feel more compassion. I laugh a little harder. I love others a little deeper and I let things go much more easily. I am so grateful for the time I had with you, my love. Every day I am amazed at something I do that I realize I learned from you. I am so grateful for everything you taught me and who you helped me become. Yesterday was the 9 month anniversary of your passing. I still feel sick to my stomach to think about it. I think back on who I was 9 months ago and I realize it was definitely not me who made that choice, even though there wasn't really a choice to make. I was not even really there for the week you were in the hospital and I'm not even sure who that person was. You weren't there in the hospital either. There was no other choice. Instead of dwelling on what has happened and how I will never get you back, I can try to move on. I can laugh when I think about your jokes. I can smile when I think about you looking at me with love in your eyes. I can be grateful for all the things we learned together, all the things we did together, all the love we gave each other. I can look forward to my future. I can be grateful I have a future, grateful that I am still here.

I went to Dakin and Brenda's wedding this weekend in Pagosa Springs. You would have been there. Ryan did what he told you he would do and got his minister license. He married Brenda and Dakin and it was very moving and beautiful. As I was talking to Kami, I got up from the table and looked to my left to where the boys were standing and almost asked YOU if I could get you anything. Then, I realized YOU weren't there. Then, there's that sinking feeling again...

So often, I wonder how you would be doing if the roles were reversed. Would you have gone to the wedding? Would you have sold our house? Would Pokey be missing? Would you be dating again? Would you have moved in with Mom and Dave? I contemplated that for awhile. Would you cook for yourself? Would you clean? Would you be excited for the Broncos' season to start? Would you take Drake on walks every day? Would you still be taking photographs? Would you be hanging out with Topher and Ryan? Would all my stuff still be in the house? Would you have gotten rid of the king bed because it's unbearable to sleep on? Would you have planted a garden? Would you still guide? Would you try to continue the fly fishing business? Who would have done our taxes? Would my name still be on the bank accounts? Would you have gone to the Rush concert? Would you have gone to concerts of my favorite bands? Would you have gone to the quail hunt? It's funny because I know the answer to most of these questions. If you and I were talking about this right now and you were asking me these questions, you would joke and say that a month after you were gone, I would find another guy, I would get rid of all your fishing stuff, and I would move back to AZ. It's one thing to joke about it and another to live it. That, of course is nothing like what is happening.

It's amazing how your mind and body cope. I was just thinking about how if I was supposed to attend Jonathan's service today, instead of 9 months ago, I don't think I could even go. For the first month, you are completely numb. For the next 2-3 months, you are in pain but also still numb. Come month 4, you are in sheer agony, as the hope fades that this is all a dream. Month 5 is still pretty much like month 4 but brutal reality hits. Month 6 gets a little bit better- you start to feel alive again instead of feeling like you are a zombie. Life begins to mean something again, but different than what you knew before. Month 7 was good. The sun is shining, it's hot outside, I'm plenty busy with Rockies games, friends, dinners, and Drake. Month 8 is where I started to feel the separation. All this time, I have felt you here. I feel you everywhere. I hardly ever felt alone even though you are gone. I felt like I could talk to you if I needed to. I could go to weddings and still feel like you were there somehow. I could hang out with friends and avoid the fact that you weren't there. Month 9 has been hard. August was my birthday and our 6 year anniversary. As I am trying to move forward and build a new life, I can't help but think about what we would have done this year if you were here.

Now that I am trying to move on, it's not as easy to pretend that you are at home. I can't pretend you are still here for me when I don't wear my wedding ring and am thinking about dating. It is obvious you aren't here when I can't get the mower started and days go by and it is still me who has to get the mower started. When you aren't my dancing partner at weddings. When I want to do the things you and I would have done and I can't because I am just one person. When I want to go camping with my family-YOU. When I just want to go to dinner with you. When I want to tell you about my day. When I want to share with you the joy of our friend's weddings or babies. How I wish you were here to see Kim's little belly growing, to know that Natalie and David are moving back, to know that Lindsi and Scott are having another baby, to be there for Dave with his parent's issues, to be so happy for Ryan and Alissa's engagement and Dakin and Brenda's wedding. A part of me knows that you know all these things and have shared all these things with me, but a part of me can't feel that anymore. I don't feel you around me as much as I used to and these things are getting harder to now experience "without you."

I struggle with finding other men interesting and getting excited about the future and the possibility of dating, and still wanting to celebrate my 6 year anniversary. I don't think this means I am not ready to move forward, but I wonder if I will always have that struggle (just lesser and lesser) because I will always love you.

I read a blog from a woman whose husband passed 5 years ago. She is getting married this year and she still thinks about and loves her first husband:
http://widowsvoice-sslf.blogspot.com/2010/08/five-years.html

I suppose I am feeling this separation from you so that I can love again.