9 Months

September 19th. 9 months since G died.

Over the last two nights when I lay down in bed, I have been flooded with memories of the night he died. The actual dying process. Him not being able to breathe - losing the ability to speak. It all happened so fast. Faster than I can even understand.

I'm realizing that I need to go back and look at that - talk it through with my counselor. Maybe with a trusted friend. I've gone over and over the things that led up to that day but those hours were beyond a blur.

G's mentor had come over and I remember before he left saying that I would keep him updated and that maybe we would have him back depending on how things went. I was thinking there were months left, surely months. I remember thinking that we probably had until the summer. He was gone 5 hours later. Unable to communicate 3 hours later.

Another crazy thing: there's this cricket outside that is just so loud. Sounds like he's in the HVAC closet or right outside the window. This happened last year too and drove G crazy! He would always joke about the cricket being outside and just screaming for a friend. Perfectly fit with G's sense of humor. Every time I hear the cricket (which is at least all morning), I think of G. And how he was here to hear it and to make a joke and to be annoyed.

I look back now and I wish a lot of things. That we had caught the heart failure sooner. That the doctors could actually help him when he did go to the hospital. That the pandemic didn't keep us from having in-person doctors appointments. That he was still here. That this was all a bad dream.

There ware ways in which I still can't believe he's gone. 9 months later and it seems surreal. So much has changed and to dwell on it makes me feel absolutely sick to my stomach. So I don't. And it feels surreal. And that grief - it really is starting to hit me in waves like they day it does.