Almost Year 3

I came to this space today to process in private. The other blog is out there - people are reading it in real time. But this one? No one reads. This once I can say what is raw and real.

It hurts to remember. Sometimes I cant remember or feel sad. More often lately, I can't stop. I hate what happened to G. I hate his suffering, his unanswered cries for help and relief. I hate the memories of his sleepless nights, his tortured soul. I hate what it felt like to be so helpless in the face his despair and pain. I wish I had known. Known what? I'm not sure. Everything.

He's almost been gone for 3 years and that is ... well... I don't know. I am more "me" than I used to be. Life is more peaceful most days. No one is on the brink of crisis in my home. I laugh often. I am finding a ministry I really love and learning deep things that are bringing healing to my soul. I have a hobbt for the first time in a long time and it is life-giving and relaxing. I have good friends and many aquaintances.

But I don't have G. I don't have his hand to hold while we nap. I don't have the sound of his rhythmic breathing. I don't have his eye to catch across a room, his sense of humor to crack me up, or his words of encouragement and affirmation. I don't have him coming around the corner on his walk back from the parking lot to our front door. I don't have him to argue about salt and fluids and sunscreen. I just don't have him.

The life we had was good and it was hard. Life without him is hard and it is good. I'm getting used to his absence in many ways but I don't get used to his death. I have new routines but it still hurts to remember how he suffered.

This is what almost-year 3 feels like. Deep missing. Sickening sorrow. Normalcy. And even joy mixed in.