I’ve reached a point in my grief where I feel as though I don’t have the … right? to grieve anymore.
At least not publicly.
Or even in my home in front of other people.
Especially not my Sexxy Chef.
Except I still grieve. And I try to hide it.
6 years ago, Mark went into the hospital. At this point, 6 years ago, we had come through a surgery that was his only hope. He survived it. He was stable, but still incredibly fragile, medically speaking.
At 6 years… the grief is still there. I still hurt. I still miss him. I still think life is INCREDIBLY unfair that he is not here to be a part of everything that goes on. I still wonder what he would think, how he would feel with all the changes in our lives.
Luke is now Leah.
Andrew has had 2 girlfriends.
Katie has a son.
Kyle has 2 boys.
I’ve become a nurse.
And we live in the place I swore I’d never move to.
But after 6 years, I wonder what words to use to describe the things that hurt. How many ways can I say I miss him? How many ways can I say it’s not fair? How many ways can I say I hurt because he’s not here?
3 years ago, someone asked me why I was still grieving so hard over him.
3 years ago.
Which makes me wonder – how many people look at my life, my new love, my ability to move forward and walk through and would see me grieving hard and ask me WTF? Why are there still tears? Why are you still sad? Why are you still grieving so hard?
My only answer is that I grieve as hard as I love.
I loved him enormously. I died when he did. But I’m still here, breathing, living, growing, moving forward in my life.
So after 6 years, I don’t know if I have many new words to describe how I feel because he’s not here. But the ones I have are still very important.
I love him.
I miss him.