I had started a blog post earlier…. Happy Thanksgiving… happy joyous occasion… blah blah blah.
And it was. It really was. We got time with the boys we hadn’t yet had – time at our house.
We had Mom’s here.
We had a day relatively free of conflict and fighting.
We had smiles and love and laughter.
I have an amazing family.
Yet here I am… 11pm on Thanksgiving Sunday… wanting, needing to cry.
I’m hurting. I’m sad.
And I’m stuck again.
There is so much GOOD in my life, so much AMAZING stuff and people and new family that there’s a part of me that says “What the FUCK do you have to be sad about??”
I miss him. I miss Mark.
There was nothing in today to suggest remembrance… other than its a holiday and he wasn’t here to help celebrate it.
He wasn’t there to help cook.
He wasn’t there to take pictures.
He wasn’t there.
And in the middle of the night, with everyone else sleeping, I’m trying to make myself cry, trying to incite the tears so that I can have that release…
Because I miss him. And he is worth my tears.
And I’m stuck.