The months are now in the double digits. And yet, still no sign of reality making any sense. My brain rejects the possibility of you never coming back, while my body recognizes the absence and knows it's been too long already. My heart is broken and hardened at the same time.
I'm getting to the point where I feel like all I ever to do is complain. I want to tell you how great everything is, how blessed I am. I want to talk to you about how thankful I am. I'm still breathing, living in a beautiful home, raising three of sweetest and most beautiful children who love me unconditionally, I have great friends and family....I want that to be enough. Enough to fill my heart. I open my computer with a smile and a sigh of accomplishment, then my fingers hit the keys to write to you - and reality flashes at me and I remember why it feels like something is always missing. All the validity in my survival of the day seemed sucked out by the realization that it never means you're coming back.
I receive daily emails from GriefShare every morning, which are basically words of encouragement for grievers and testimonies from people who have lost loved ones. The one this morning struck a chord with me:
I don't know how far long in her grief journey Margi was, but her words inspired me. I want to be like that, I want to know how I can use this to do something - anything - that might help make sense of it all. I'm not all there yet, but that's where I want to be. I want to be where Margi is.
I miss you. There will never be a second of my life where that won't be true.
I love you always and forever.