So it's officially been three months since I lost the love of my life.
I wish I could say that time is helping, but I'm not quite sure that it is.
I stay busy....very busy.
I've been doing quite a bit of traveling this summer.
I've been to Charleston for a beach day with a girlfriend,
Tennessee for much needed time with another girlfriend,
Hilton Head for a girls' weekend trip,
Missouri for a family camping trip,
Las Vegas for an education conference and meet up with blogging buddies from all over,
Virginia for a visit with my sister,
and New York for a weekend with my sister and niece.
But it doesn't matter where I go, because the truth never changes.
He's not there.
And he never will be.
Sure, I can feel happiness. I have felt extreme joy this summer.
I've felt it in the smiles of my family.
I've felt it in the hugs of my blogging buddies.
I've felt it in the words of my friends.
But that joy, which feels so big in the moment, is only a fraction of the joy I would experience with him.
And that breaks my heart.
I just miss him.
Too much to bear.
I don't understand why anyone would have to go through pain like this.
It's just not fair.
I've read a lot about grief and how to deal with the loss of a partner, with the feelings that can change with the flutter of an eyelash.
One post really hit home with this simple statement:
"Guilt, anger, frustration, and sadness all come in a beautifully wrapped package with our names on it, signed 'With Love, Widowhood.'"
Although I would also add happiness to that list, because there is sometimes happiness.
It's the unexpected moments of pure grief that hurt the most, and they come at the most random times.
I can be watching TV, or eating dinner, or driving down the road.
And then the tears come, fast and furious, until my cheeks are flushed and my mascara is a mess.
Sometimes it lasts for only a minute...other times, hours.
And then there are those days where I may not shed even one single tear, only smile with the memories of what we had.
Grief is a funny thing.
So it's been three months, and I'm not sure that I'm any better than I was on day one.
One of my very best girlfriends made these collages for Wes' funeral.
They show 11 years of memories, 11 years of happiness.
Sometimes, I want to throw them out the window because it hurts so bad to look at them.
Other times, I hug them fiercely to my chest.
I told you....grief is a funny thing.
A new school year is upon us. Tomorrow...well, today actually...is my last official day of summer break. I go back to work on Thursday.
This will be the hardest. Trying to find a "new normal" without him.
I've been pretending all summer that I can run all over this globe, but that things at home are still the same.
But they're not, because he's not there.
And he never will be.
To those that pray for me, thank you.
Please continue to do so.
To those that think of me, thank you.
Please continue to do so.
And to those that encourage me, thank you.
Please continue to do so.
Because it's been three months.
Three months too long.
