On the first of February, I lost my husband. So many people have been there for me in the best way they know how, but I’ve felt many of them are not helpful at all. I’ve spent a great deal of time avoiding people and avoiding thinking about my loss. So many emotions are running through my mind…devastation, anger, sadness, guilt…happy memories of good times, forgiveness for any grudges I held. It’s been a roller coaster of feelings, but mostly I am heartbroken.
My heart is breaking because I will never see or talk to him again, I will never again hear his laugh, I will never again make him smile, I will no longer see him toil for hours at one of the many creative ways he was an artist (painting, sketching, bonsai, woodworking, decorating, designing..both clothes and home decor, and much more), I no longer get to experience the sheer joy he felt watching fireworks. There are numerous things I am going to miss. I merely have my memories, and I am sad that I feel that isn’t enough.
Throughout the writing of this blog, since starting it long ago, I have not really shared an abundance of personal information about my husband. I respected his privacy, and I knew he read everything I wrote. Today, I have decided to break that tradition. Writing (and reading) has always been my safety net, my escape from reality. So in order to help myself heal, I’m going to write about him. Probably a lot, as a warning. Memories I have, both good and bad, need to be recorded. They need to live on.
Last night, I got to spend time with family. Tim’s dad, step mom, two brothers, sisters in law, nephew, niece, grandmother, Tim’s best friend, her daughter and mother. It was nice to be together. I was hesitant to go initially, I felt like having me at a family gathering would be awkward. They are not my blood, I married into that family and I felt having me there would be a constant reminder of a loss we are all sharing. I didn’t want to be the reason for tears or sadness. Stacee (Tim’s best friend) talked me into it and I’m glad she did. I had a nice time, it was great to be around others that understand my pain, my loss, and my grief. His younger brother and sister-in-law gave me a framed photo of Tim and I dancing at their wedding. I don’t really remember the picture being taken, but it means the world to me to have it.
After spending time with them, I know that I AM family, regardless of whether I was born into or married into it. We shared a lot of memories about Tim. He touched all of us in ways that are hard to express in writing, and I can only speak for myself, but he is missed and will not be forgotten.