Thursday, March 29, 2012
The last two days, I have been missing Jer more than usual. I'm not sure why - perhaps all the chaos and excitement of getting engaged and keeping insanely busy, I tend to push aside my grief. But his smile has been fresh in my mind and my ache for him has been very raw.
Yesterday, I went downstairs to workout on the treadmill (I have a wedding dress to fit into!). I was looking for something to watch on TV and saw that The Patriot was on. I thought "I haven't seen this in awhile, I'll watch the rest of it." Big mistake. All it took was one scene of two men walking, referencing one's deceased daughters. "I'm sure your girls were lovely." (or something like that) "Yes, they were." And I was a puddle of tears.
Were. What is it with those past tense words?! It's so hard to really grasp what that entails when you're talking about someone you love more than anything no longer being here. Almost 17 months later, and I still can't get used to it. Hearing the character refer to his daughters in past tense made me sob uncontrollably on my treadmill. I was thinking 'get a grip' but I couldn't. The pain of knowing someone you love will never fill up space in the world again is a sickening realization.
Last week, I took my daughter on her first field trip. We went to learn about how maple syrup is made. Now, if you knew anything about Jeremy, you'd know he was a proud Canadian who LOVED maple syrup. His uncle and now his cousins make their own and sell it. I was excited to take Faith and somehow tangibly connect her with her daddy and something he loved. But I also remember listening to the tour guide tell us all this random information about how to recognize maple trees, and the process of making syrup, and subconsciously storing the information to impress Jeremy with later. Then that stupid word popped in my head....was. He's not here anymore. I can't see the smile on his face when I show him my interest in learning about maple syrup, even if I don't eat it. Or perhaps surprise him with some information he didn't already know (which would have been highly unlikely). Jeremy now lives in the past tense. And I can't get my brain to accept that.
I still catch myself on a regular basis, saying 'is' instead of 'was.'' I have figured out this day to day thing on my own, it makes sense to me now and I've gotten used to it, but I still can't accept that it's forever. I have so much to tell him, so much to share, so many inside jokes he'd appreciate, so many years of him knowing me like no one else has and wanting to share pieces of my heart I've stored up for him. Knowing I can't is heartbreaking every single time I remember it.
I guess I just have to pray that when the day comes when I get to see him face to face again, I won't forget anything.