I Said YES!!

Sometimes, the world conspires to make you incredibly, irrevokably happy.

On November 5, in the early hours of the morning, my Sexxy Chef proposed to me.

Of course I said YES!!

 

 

 

The ring is being sized. I can’t wear it for a couple weeks – and that’s ok.

The date has been chosen.  Location is 95% sure – I just need to see it again and confirm that YES, I can set up the wedding the way I want in the space that’s available.

Plans… plans… and more plans.

Love happens again.  Happiness happens again.

It’s the weirdest thing, being so incredibly, amazingly happy – with that thread of sorrow going through it all.

The guilt of “how can I be this happy when he’s still dead?”

Going through so many things that I did for the first wedding.  Making plans.

I don’t even know how to explain it.

I’m ridiculously HAPPY and I want to shout it to the world.  I can’t wait to start my life with my Sexxy Chef.  I can’t wait to be Mrs. Sexxy Chef.

But I’ve been Mrs. Smith for the majority of my adult life.  It will be 19 years of being Mrs. Smith when I become Mrs. Sexxy Chef.

That’s weird to me.  Never mind the fact that I’m trying to wrap my head around what will be my new name.

New Beginnings

I’ve got an amazing new beginning ahead of me. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But man… did I have to lose so much to get what’s ahead of me?

I’m happy. I’m in love.  I’m looking forward to a long, happy, healthy future with my Sexxy Chef.

But I want to tell my Mark all about how happy I am.  He’d be happy for me.  He’d celebrate with me.

Long live love.

Changes

There have been big changes in my life recently.

I’ve got a new Love, he’s amazing, he’s incredible, we’re perfect on so many levels its scary.

He brings joy to my life.

I slow him down, he speeds me up, we complement and balance each other well.

Today… he moved in.  Fully. Completely.  All his stuff here.  And he’s here.

There’s a light sabre in my house.

A storm trooper helmet.

A whole lotta New England Patriots swag.

Clothes and stuff that aren’t mine.

It… feels weird and awesome at the same time.  Very much a “hey this is it. we’re TOGETHER” moment walking in the door and seeing his stuff.

Before, there was a transience to the relationship.  He was here, but essentially living out of a suitcase.  He was wearing the same clothes for 4 months.

It felt… however much we talked about a future, that there was an option to go back.

Now there’s not.

He’s here.  And I have a future with him.

He loves me, I love him, and he respects and honours the love I have for Mark.

I am amazed at how my life has changed…

20160807_145635

 

Is it Okay?

Is it okay to have moments, hours, days where I am so incredibly happy that I don’t think about him?

Is it okay to enjoy my life so very much that I don’t have a moment of breathlessness because he’s not here to share it with?

Is it okay to have things in my life happen that I DON’T want to share with him?

Is it okay to miss him, but be okay with him not being here?

A year or two ago, someone dear to me asked me “Why are you grieving so hard?” and I was flabbergasted that he would even consider asking me that.  After all, I lost the love of my life!  I had everything I knew turned upside down!

Today, I ask myself, “Why are you not grieving as hard?” Does this mean I didn’t love him as much as I thought I did? Does it mean that I don’t miss him as much as I said I did?

How could I spend a day, being ridiculously happy, and not want to share it with him?  How could I have moments that don’t belong to him?

The guilt, that I should have a life that I don’t want him included in all the parts, it confuses me.

How could I not want him included in all the parts of my life? How could I have pieces of me that I want just for me?

I don’t understand it.

But I’m pretty fucking happy, even if the happy is tinged with guilt.  And the only thing I want to share with him is that I AM happy.

I didn’t die with him.

A piece of me did, but that piece?  The part that is growing back?  That’s mine.

Don't Cry

This is becoming more and more real for me.  It happened.  It was beautiful. It was amazing.  It was painful and awful at times.  We weren’t perfect but we were perfectly imperfect for each other. And I’m getting to the point where I can smile… because it happened.

New Beginnings

I Just Found Out…

4+ years.

And I get a message:  I’ve been thinking about Mark a lot lately and thought I’d look him up and just found out he’d passed….

4+ years.

Shouldn’t the times of having to tell people be over by now?

Shouldn’t the moments of having to console someone while I’m crying be over?

They aren’t.  And that’s ok.

I was given a gift this morning.  A gift of someone who wanted to talk about Mark. Who remembers Mark.  Who can tell me stories I didn’t know of Mark.

That, my fellow widows, is the most amazing gift of all.

Yes, I cried.

Yes, I was sad.

But OMG…. to be able to hear someone talk about Mark and tell me the stories they remember… that is a gift.

And then I was given another gift… the gift of unconditional love.  The gift of my Sexxy Chef loving me, holding me while I cried, kissing away my tears, then making me smile because he is *that* awesome.

I’m blessed in so many ways.

I love my life.  I love the life Before … and the life After…

But thank you to whatever part of the universe that blessed me with the gift of memories of Mark… even if they weren’t mine.

The First…

There’s not too many firsts left after 4 years gone.

This past weekend was two firsts.

The first wedding I’ve attended since he died.

The first “Smith” family gathering since he died.

This was the wedding of his nephew. It’s hard to believe that he’s missing out on so much.

Kids growing up, getting married, having kids…

The ceremony was beautiful.  The bride and groom were gorgeous. The setting was amazing…

And all throughout, there was a golden thread of sadness in my heart. What he’s missing out on.

I didn’t bring my Sexxy Chef with me.  I had RSVP’d before he was on the scene, didn’t think that was the best place to introduce him and ultimately, I needed to go through the wedding without Mark on my own.

I spent a lot of time with my grandson, dancing with him while he fell asleep. He gave me an excuse to be kind of anti-social and off on my own. He allowed me to just be… to feel and allow the emotions to wash over me without affecting anyone else’s good time.

It was a day of joy.  They don’t get the sorrow.  They don’t get how the sadness is always there like the sunburn that hasn’t yet healed and you go to scratch an itch and it suddenly flares up and HOLY FUCK THAT STILL HURTS.

That’s what the wedding did… it was the scratch on the burn. The joy of seeing Austin and Maddie get married scratched the pain of missing Mark.  And holy fuck does it still hurt.

Maddie and Austin

I’m so very happy for them. They are so beautifully in love, so incredibly happy. And I’m glad I was able to be there to share in their day.  I know Mark was there in spirit.

A Myriad of Emotions

I’m happy.  Ridiculously happy. And I feel like crying.

I said to the Sexy Chef when we were shopping for groceries… “I don’t like always being the sad one you know.”

It’s exhausting. I’m sad.  I’m happy. Every damn thing is tinged with sadness. Everything.

At this moment, I want to take my Sexy Chef to bed.  I want to rock his world.  And I want to bawl.  I feel broken and brittle and like I’m going to fall apart at the slightest thing.

I don’t like feeling like this.  The joys of widowhood are that I am forever fighting with the sadness.  I LOVE my sexy chef. He brings such joy to my life.  He’s kind and considerate and loves me for exactly who I am. I want to revel in that. I want to lose myself in him.

Fuck widowhood. Fuck having to forever have that golden thread of grief running through every damn thing I do.

I want to feel joy with the blissful ignorance of someone who hasn’t known loss.

I want to lose myself in a moment without the knowledge that life can change in just one moment.

And in the kitchen, he pulls me around, makes me look him in the eye and says to me… “You’re ok.”

And for one second, I can, I do, lose myself in the moment and forget that it might change when I blink.

For one second… I am lost in the love of a man who loves me for me.  The good, the bad, and the broken.

One DayTurn On the LightIt's Going to be Ok SomedayKintsugi

I Miss You

It has been 4 years since you took your last breath.

It has been 4 years since we gathered around you, held your hand, and allowed you to move on to another place with love and laughter surrounding you.

It has been 4 years since the grey Vancouver sky opened up for one moment, and sunlight streamed in your window as you left us.

It has been 4 years since I crawled up on you to snuggle you one more time, because I knew it wouldn’t hurt you and I hadn’t been able to do that in 6 months.

It has been 4 years since I broke down on you, and finally realized… it wasn’t you anymore.

It has been 4 years since I kissed your cold forehead one last time and walked away from the hospital one last time.

It has been 4 years since our lives changed.

It has been 4 years.

And I love you as much today as I did that day.

I miss you.  Your children miss you. Our lives are not the same without you.

4 years.  4 fucking years without you and I want to reach out and touch you and talk to you and hold you again.

This song.  Every. Fucking. Time. 

That Moment When…

You have a meltdown because it’s the day before your husband died.

You fall apart completely because it was the day that your husband decided he wanted to turn off the machines.

You sob uncontrollably because you can’t shut the memories off and they just keep hitting you over and over like you’re in an angry ocean that keeps slamming wave after wave into you.

You are a snotty, teary mess because it’s 4 years since he died.

And you’re doing it all in the arms of someone who is new in your life, and he’s perfectly ok with it.

That moment when you think… just for a moment, that the person holding you might actually be perfect (he’s not, not really but for that moment it felt like it)

And after, when you’re blowing your nose and apologizing for turning a lovely sexy romantic morning into a grief storm, he tells you that it’s ok, that you need to go through the emotions, feel them, express them because if you don’t you can’t heal.

It’s that moment when you feel, for the first time since your husband’s death, that you have solid footing under you again.

Turn On the Light

Juxtaposition of Past & Present

How is it possible to feel such joy and such pain and sorrow at the same time?

How is it possible to look into the eyes of my present and possible future and melt with love then be devastated by a memory of the past that is no longer?

How is it possible to be so very happy and so devastatingly sad at the same time?

I have found love again. He makes my heart sing. He’s understanding, kind, caring, considerate, and he is willing to do whatever it takes to be there for me while I grieve intensely at this time of year. And when he was talking about me to someone he works with, his word were “I can be her next chapter, she already had a great chapter before me… I get to be next” (or something along those lines.  I was so shocked and so much more instantly in love with him when he said that that I don’t remember his exact words)

And… I want to tell Mark.  I want to tell him all about this new guy. I want to tell Mark how the new guy makes me feel. I want to snuggle up and see him and tell him all about the things that make my new guy so amazing. Because Mark would understand.  He’d be happy for me.  He’d want to hear all the details. He’d want to meet the new guy.  Because he was that awesome.

How do I reconcile the absolute joy I have found in my new love with the devastation of not having my husband?

It’s a strange juxtaposition. One I never expected to be feeling or working my way through 3 days before the 4th anniversary of his death.

I’m devastated and sad and grieving.

I’m happy and in love and enjoying life.

What. The. Everloving. Fuck?

Stages-of-Grief

Father’s Day

I made it through Father’s Day.  I made it through the day mostly because I had been riding on a derby high from 3 bouts in 24 hours.

I got home, emotionally crashed, and slept.

The missing him, it’s visceral. Every day that goes by is another day further from him being on this Earth, from him being at my side, from him getting to see his children and grandchildren.

How do I explain to his grandsons who he was and how amazing he was? How can I get them to understand?

Short answer… I can’t.  They’ll never know.

The countdown of days is on. I had a breakdown on the way to school yesterday. The weight of the day of his death gets heavier with each day. I know… or at least I hope… from past years, that it will lighten up again after the 26th, but for now, I’m simply walking through my days, hoping I don’t crash and burn.

I miss him.