Walking a Different Path

Yesterday I lost my husband.

After 22 1/2 weeks of fighting, he was tired.  He was done fighting.

We had a lovely, perfect last night together. He was at peace with his decision.

Thank you for all the thoughts and prayers over the last months.

There will be a bit of a hiatus on posting while I sort out life without him.

See you soon…

Mark Wellington Smith
May 18, 1963 – June 26, 2012
Beloved father, brother, friend and husband
Forever in our hearts & Forever missed.


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Day 4

I know you’re probably thinking, “What Happened to Days 1-3??”

I was lost, and so were they.

On June 26, 2012, at approximately 4.15pm, my husband of almost 13 years, my lover and partner of 14 1/2 years, died.   He had fought a long, hard battle over 5 1/2 months to survive… a battle that started with pancreatitis, that culminated in his body shutting down.

I may go into the details later.  I might log the whole 5 1/2 months but for now, this is about after.  This blog is about learning how to live without him.  Learning how to raise our children, help our grown children heal, and working through my own grief.

My life is surreal.  My life is beyond comprehension.   He and I were supposed to have 50 years together and it stopped at 14.  I keep thinking I’m going to have to go back to the hospital and see him.  As much as I hated the hospital, as much as I hated the drive, I’d give anything to go back there again and see him fighting to come home.

I slept in my own bed last night for the first time since he died – surrounded by my boys and snuggled up with them.  I’d go back and forth between snuggling each of them – they had me in the middle…  it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.

I miss him so much.  I haven’t quite figured out how to live without him… he’s supposed to be coming home to me.

I’m hoping this blog becomes somewhat coherent.  As I move through the next weeks and months, I’ll be using this as an outlet for my feelings… a way to process.   Right now everything is a jumble of foggy mess.

I love you, Mark.  I miss you.  I hope you are at peace.