I’m sitting here trying to get control of the feeling of being strangled.
I’m sitting here trying desperately not to cry.
I’m sitting here looking at the time and wondering how I’m going to pull it together enough to go to practice in less than 2 hours.
Today would have been our 13th wedding anniversary. Today would have been a day where we would love each other, and he’d cook dinner for me, and we’d sit on our back deck having a romantic candlelight dinner.
And instead I’m planning his memorial.
I’m staring at the flowers my friend Chantal bought me. We share the same wedding anniversary.
I’m trying to pull myself together enough to go out in public.
My children are all away.
My husband is gone.
I have a friend here who is wonderfully, incredibly helpful but I don’t know how to lean on her.
I miss him. I miss the life we were planning on having together. I miss the promises we made to each other.
13 years… 13 years out of the 50 we promised each other.
I love you, Mark. I miss you more every day.