Clean cut grief

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November 9th came and went.
2 years lived without Jeremy passed, just like that.

Like every other milestone date, the week leading up to it was much harder than the actual day. We honored Jeremy by getting together with friends at his memorial stone at the college for dinner and then went to see Skyfall, which coincidentally (or notsomuch) opened on the 9th. Jeremy loved the James Bond series, as do I, and we had talked about anticipating this movie when the last one came out. I knew that if he were still here, we would have gone together opening night. It felt fitting to go, and was a great way to honor him.

Except, I woke up the next day and felt bad again. Aggravated is more accurate. Irritated at myself cause I expected to feel better, not worse. Then, annoyed with the world (and myself again) for assuming I should feel better now that I've gotten through an anniversary of my husband's death. One day is fine for grieving and remembering, but the next day life must go on.

I couldn't let go. Grief isn't clean cut, it doesn't follow my schedule. Jeremy had felt so close to me the past couple of weeks because my heart had been in sync with the last moments I shared with him - I couldn't just wake up the next day and forget.

I happened to get to spend the day with Jeremy's mom and sisters, which was just what my heart needed. But, I simultaneously felt myself hurting again for all the things Jeremy was missing out on with his family - things we had prayed for, and so many changes happening. He wouldn't have missed it for the world. And yet, just another reminder that he's not here and life continues to move forward. As it should, even when you don't really want it to.

I settled in to the fact that I'm ok with not being ok sometimes. I'm thankful for an incredible husband who gives me space for grief when I need it and wraps me with understanding and presence when I need it, and never makes me feel bad for grieving. I've wanted to blog so many different times this week, and I honestly just haven't had the time...but grief has been close to me. And that's ok.

So, I start a third year beginning without Jeremy here to see it. I still can't bring myself to honestly believe he's gone sometimes, but the trail he left behind is too big to ignore. So I follow, and pray that this year will continue to bring hope and healing.

Milestones

Yesterday, Carter turned a month old. Can you believe that? A whole month has gone by in a blink of an eye. My little man is getting so big, already exceeding 10 pounds. He's healthy and happy (most of the time) and his siblings are absolutely in love with him, to the point of smothering.

To celebrate his one month birthday, Carter gave us his first big, genuine smiles. We caught one on tape last night that I just had to share:

It's pretty tough not to smile at something like that.

And yet, every smile comes with a heavy sigh afterward it seems. Especially with every milestone that Jeremy will miss. With every month marker that Carter will celebrate, another month will go by without Jeremy. Today marks 4 months since Jer died. It hardly seems real. Like the blink of an eye and an eternity all wrapped into one.

Just when I think things might start getting easier, the emptiness of my day-to-day existence without him rears it's ugly head and knocks me back down to the ground. And although I relive that horrible day in my head constantly, it's really the dull ache of every day life without him by my side that seems to be killing me softly.

And knowing that everything about Carter's life right now is bittersweet somedays is just too much. Here's hoping that as time goes by, those good milestones will outshine the still very painful ones.