One Year Later…….

I haven’t written in a while because, well, last month was hard. Yet as the dreaded year came up finally, we stayed home as a family. We finished our big project. A patio built in honor of Ed. It took a week to build, the week before the anniversary was the perfect time for such a large project. It kept my mind from wondering and while it was focused on him, it wasn’t all consuming. Before I knew it, the day arrived and the patio was completed though it rained most of the the day we still sat out on the patio and did exactly what we planned to. We built a fire sat around and just talked about Dad.

Now it is a few weeks later and we are still out on the patio every night. It is a good place for us and we love it out there. It is incredible what it feels like to reach the one year point. While some may see this a odd, I felt like I crossed a finish line in one way. I did something I never in a million years thought I would have to. I made it a whole year without my Ed. It wasn’t easy, but I made it and while I’m not proud of every choice I made, I feel like a stronger me on this side of things. I still struggle with being lonely, but I’m getting used to it and every day it gets easier. Or maybe that is because I started school and it has now kept me very busy.

Sometimes I just have to keep telling myself that I’m the one who didn’t die, that I am still on this planet for some reason. Some days that reason is so hard to see then something happens and that reason smacks me in the face. This morning my “adopted daughter” sent me a text. “Mom this is Millie. Pie put your number on my phone.” I reply “Okay dear! Love you!””Love you too! really would like your expert advice when you come home.””Okay dear, but I’m not much of an expert.””Well it’s more like I wanna hear it from an adult with way more experience in life than me.””Okay dear I will see you after work!”
That is why I am here and he is not. It must be. We have daughters, and even adopted daughters that need me. I am here for them and that feels really good. So I make plans to have dinner and sit around the fire pit and talk with the girls tonight. Millie is not really adopted but she lived with us most of her life. Her aunt and uncle had actual custody of her but she lived with us. She is my daughter as much as the ones that I actually gave birth to. I have no idea what she wants to talk about but I am sure whatever it is we can figure out what needs to be done and If I don’t have the answers I bet I can find someone who does. I love my children and they make this life perfect. I have to tell you about a conversation the girls had last night while I was taking my first big test. It cracked me up! I’m not putting names but it is funny.

Daughter one: “Hey say something funny.”

Daughter two: “Funny how?”

Daughter three: “Your not really siblings unless you text each other while taking a shit.”

Adopted daughter: “Yes because not having TP is a serious problem.”

Okay I’m not sure how that reads but if you would have heard it, it would have cracked you up!! Well it did me anyways. LOL It is moments like that, that remind me of their father. It is conversations like that they would all have. He would have so been in the middle of that conversation. And then I realize that he is still with us. HE is in the fabric of my being, of our being. The things we find funny, the music we love and in what I do for the family. HE is in that. I haven’t lost him or myself even, I just miss us. That is simply all and each day that missing gets a little easier. Moving on isn’t me trying to forget him, it is simply me still living. And that is what he would want. Me to live. We are talking about doing the kitchen floors next. I can do that, it’s what You Tube is for! Life is good, and nothing is as bad as things were a year ago, and every day moving forward is just another day to get better. A few weeks ago I asked what healing looked like while visiting with my counselor. What was it. I think I now know. Healing is being sad, and angry and hurt. So hurt that breathing is something hard to do. Healing is deciding every second to take the next breath. It is crying, it is ugly, and bloody, and it leaves a scar that nothing will hide. That is healing and just like an actual wound, it just takes time. Sometimes it rips open and you have to start all over again, but in the end, you do heal. The scar just says that you lived and lived a life that was full of love. So let the scars come because I want to be remembered for love above anything else.