617 Days and Counting

I reached another widow milestone this week: on Thursday Dan had been dead for 617 days. The same number of days that I was blessed to have him in my life.  One year, eight months, two weeks and four days. That's all the time we had together.  

I'd been dreading this moment for months. For some reason, I even have a countdown app on my phone, so I could watch the days ticking down.  You know, just because I seem to enjoy torturing myself!  As the days ticked over; 612; 613; 614; the anxiety and dread intensified.  

I couldn't bear the thought of being his widow longer than I had known him.  I didn't want to be that far away from our last kiss.  We were only married for 45 days before he died, so the milestone of 'being his widow longer than I was his wife' passed very quickly, when I was still in deep shock.  So I had held this 617 day mark as a point in time, down the track, when surely life would be easier and the pain wouldn't be so bad.  I guess that probably is the case, but it's harder to see when you're in the midst of it.

As is common with these milestones, the actual day itself wasn't as bad as the lead up had been. I cried myself to sleep the night before, but woke up on Thursday feeling... well, normal.  To my surprise, it was just another day.  He was still dead.  It still royally sucked. But his love was still all around me.  

I got up, went to work, and managed not to do that weird thing where you blurt out to people that your husband is dead or that it's a difficult milestone day (especially one that someone not familiar with grief would never understand!). 

But, I missed him.  Oh, how I missed him.  Lately, I find myself thinking of him every moment of every day.  How much he would have laughed at something on tv; how he'd have enjoy a meal I'd cooked; the way he'd carry on, circling pictures of the Easter eggs he wanted in the shopping catalogues that he loved pouring through.  Every time he pops in to my mind I whisper quietly 'I miss you' and clench my hand, as if I was wrapping it around his.  Yep, I miss him a lot at the moment. 

And now I'm in the middle of the Easter long weekend with my family, who are awesome, and all I can think about is how much I wish he were here.  One moment I'm laughing at memories of him (like the year we spoilt each other with chocolate eggs and then, in a moment of weakness, decided we should give them all away and be committed to getting healthy for our pending wedding... before turning up at my sister's house the following day and admitting we'd made a mistake and wanted them all back!).  And the next moment I'm wiping away tears because such a big part of me is missing. 

He made every day fun and special. His laugh was infectious and his hugs were second to none. I miss my husband.  I will continue to miss him, regardless of how much time passes and how long I'm his widow. Because those 617 days we spent together changed my life and made my heart sing and I will always wish that we'd had the lifetime together that we'd planned.  Death sucks. 

Birthdays & Beginnings

Today was my fiance's birthday. The third year without him here. You always think it's going to get easier. And you never really have any clue how it's going to hit you. That's no mystery to me. I've been dealing with the milestone of my mom's birthday for over 20 years now since she died... and some years are just harder than others, for no real reason at all. I gave up long ago trying to understand the "why" of all this.

I feel like this 3rd birthday has been even harder than the 2nd without him. Maybe this is because it is the same amount of birthdays I shared WITH him... we only had 3 short years together. As I'm writing this, I'm thinking it has a lot to do with it. This officially kicks off the first of many milestones this year that are going to be even harder than last year, for that one reason. By June, I will officially be entering into having lived more time after his death than I actually had with him. It's heartbreaking, even now just thinking of it. And it's weighed so heavily on my heart today that I've scarcely even had words.

There were some highlights to the day. My mother-in-law and I went to get pedicures in the morning. Cute toes always make a day better. We did a little shopping and then had a blast out on the ranch ridiculously exploding a pink pony piñata - because sometimes you just need to blow some shit up. I will admit, that felt crazy good. And afterwards, my in-laws and I went out for a really nice dinner. There was a lot of good in the day actually, I have to admit that.

But still... under the surface has been that feeling of the lurking 3 year mark. And that's not the only new thing that's entering into my life right now either. Simultaneous to this whole 3 year milestone, I have also met someone.... new.

There has been wonder and joy and excitement again with this new person. And warmth and support and understanding. It has been so beautiful. He cracked a beer at midnight with me last night - just to celebrate Drew's birthday. He gets me. And I have laughed more in a few short months than I think I had in the entire past 2 1/2 years.

But there also days when I've just had to run off, and create distance from this new person, because being vulnerable feels too hard. And moments when I've been paralyzed by the fear that I will let this person matter so much, and then he will die too. There have been times when I've wanted nothing more than to fall into this new man's arms... And times when I have wanted nothing more than to fall into the arms of my fiancé again - not this new person - because that is truly where I feel the most safe. All of this, the great stuff and the hard stuff, its a lot to take in. To put it plainly, goddamn, this shit is just terrifying.

One of the worst aspects: I hate knowing that - for the rest of my life - I am going to have this fear of the person I am with dying on me. I really, really hate this. I miss the innocence of believing blindly that the odds were in my favor. Now, I know different... and I wish I didn't. I wish none of us did.

This post is really sort of a rambling mess, I didn't plan what to talk about or think through this at all. It's just whatever is going on in my head right now. I am confused, and a bit scared right now. About life. About death. About what lies ahead.

In a few months, I will be exactly as far away from his death as I was the day I met him... and I think this realization has been bubbling up under the surface for a while now. Well, I know it has, I've feared it since he first died. I still cannot even fathom hitting this landline of a mark in June. I cannot even fathom how difficult a time it is going to be... and how much I may regress back into my grief - which makes me want to distance and turn off from the world and be alone. And then I think of this new person, and how much I'd like him to keep being here, but also how scary it is to bring someone else into my world at a time when I may really need a lot of space. I'm confused, and sad tonight. And all I really want is to talk to my best friend, to tell him Happy Birthday, to talk about this new man with him, and to express how scary this year's milestones are going to be. God, why can't we just pick up the phone and call each other?