A little over a year ago on August 30th, I went to bed for the first time as a widow. Lost, alone, and so very afraid. I wasn’t sure I’d even make it through the night. But I did. The sun rose the next day, and the day after, and the day after. He was gone. But I was still here. The pain of those first few weeks was the most excoriating pain I have ever felt in my life. The fact that I didn’t relapse and die as well during that time, is a complete miracle. Eleven year’s together, eleven year’s worth of memories, love, fighting, making up, having babies, traveling. Gone in the blink of an eye. One decision made, one small pill, one year ago. Echoing forever in eternity’s halls. A little over a year is how long it’s been. How long it’s been since any of us have seen you, heard your voice, touched you, or smelled you. That’s how long it’s been since mercy came and decided, you would fight no more. I believe it seen how you fought, brave and ferocious, yet a little more worn out, after every round against your demons you lost, so it rescued you. Knowing you’d fight forever if allowed, but being less and less you, as addiction took from you with every battle fought. So mercy came in and did what mercy does and helped you lay down your armor, for the very last time. It wrapped you in its arms, finally allowing you rest. How I have such a love-hate relationship with mercies saving grace.
Not one day has passed since you departed this earth, that I haven’t thought of you. Not for one day has my heart not clinched, as I thought about how I wished you could have stayed, just a little longer. How you deserved so very much more, than what you were handed. Every day since you’ve left, each one of them, have come with such painful brutality. Handing me lesson’s I never intended on learning. I’ve beat my fists into this shaky ground I stand on. I’ve screamed, cursed and sobbed until my voice was all but gone, at the unfairness of it all. I’ve clawed my way out of the hell, we had so comfortably made our home. I have told our story, over and over, to anyone who would listen, in hopes of saving even one. My way of honoring you. I have battled my own soul to get and stay clean, another way I’ve chosen to honor you which has slowly turned into, me honoring myself.
You are absent but not erased. I catch a glimpse of you in the curve of our son’s jaw, in the pitch of our daughter’s laughter. Your absence is stark, your presence remains a deeply embedded internal reservoir. The shape of our love holds firm, and I continue to be forged and fortified by it. Turning to it for comfort and encouragement, as I bear my grief and navigate life. It is still the rock on which I rely and always will.
Shattered hearts do heal. Life has become good again. But only because I choose for it to be. The sun will continue to rise. And the sun will continue to set. Whether I like it or not, time marches on. I can march with it or I can let time, and life, pass me by. I’ve learned you don’t heal with time, you heal with intention. It won’t be easy, in fact, it will be the hardest thing you ever do. Difficult things are never easy, but they are so worth it. This I have come to know. I am still here, Daniels ending was not my end. Life is still, so very beautiful.
I hope heaven is treating you good wild boy. Love you always.
- Your wife
