I'm not sure what I was expecting with this "angelversary." I know others were expecting a major meltdown from me, an epiphany of some sorts, some major life change. But it wasn't major, for me anyway. I mean...it's not like I don't think about this every minute of every day. The one-year mark is just another day on the calendar without him. It isn't some benchmark of the grieving process or some goal that says, "hey...time to move on!" It's just another day. And that's what I made it for me and the girls. Just another Saturday watching their cousins play soccer, some grocery shopping and our Saturday evening movie.
I think for Laura, though, it meant more. My little three year-old is very intuitive and in the days leading up to the angelversary, started asking some really hard questions with information I've never given her. I don't know where she came up with it...but she knows more than she probably realizes. And she is S.T.R.U.G.G.L.I.N.G.
Why couldn't the doctors fix him?
Why did Daddy like the ice?
He needed a boat to help him Mama!
How many owies did he have?
He just needed a band-aid...a really big band-aid!
Why did the ice break?
Why can't he come back?
Why can't we go to Heaven? Will you take me someday Mama?
I miss my Daddy. I just want to give him a super big hug.
And this conversation happens every night, as we're going to bed. (Yes, we're co-sleeping...all 3 of us. No advice needed.) I want to shield her from the pain, but refuse to hide the truth. So I answer as simply and best I can...and a lot of times, my answer is "I don't know, punkin." And we both have a breakdown, a release of tears and emotion and fall asleep in each other's arms. I know the questions will keep coming, with more detail each time...until she can somehow find resolution and peace in her little heart.
People still ask how we're doing. The answer is still "ok...fine...hanging in there" or some other variation that slides out of my mouth. The truth? See above. It's a daily struggle. Often times, it's like standing outside a window watching everyone's lives go on while mine is at a standstill. The world is one big blur moving around me, no decision is ever easy and it's lonely. So very lonely. And until you are wearing these shoes, you don't understand how there can be people surrounding you...and it's still lonely.
But when we lost Will, I promised Sam that I wouldn't give up...give up on me, us, our plans, our future. And I'm doing my best to hold true to that promise.
