Just Another Day

Sean,

So, I thought I was passed the part of grief where I was in disbelief about what has happened, but I find myself sometimes, like this evening for example, reacting to things or doing things as if I'm expecting you to respond or something. I'll think of something to say, and then I'll turn my head as if you're standing next to me like I'm going to say something to you, and then I'll stop because you're not there. Or I'll hear something in conversation and I'll say something, and I'll pause for a split-second waiting for your response to whatever it was I said. It's just the little things like that that I'm so used to with you that aren't there anymore. I've stopped looking up whenever I hear someone else walking in the room thinking that it's you coming in. But I still notice myself not completely habitualized to your absence.

I missed you a lot today. It was pretty stressful. I was doing some things and taking care of some things that I could have really used your opinion and support on. I was very aware that you weren't there during that time today, and I hated every minute of it. I don't know what I'm going to do when the babies are born and I have to make decisions for them without you. I'm sure I'll do what's best for them, but I know that you would have bettered me by helping me to reach those conclusions in a better way. You had this quality about you that made me so reliant on you. I've always been independent but I find myself without you and it feels like I can't do anything on my own anymore.

Chemo misses you. Whenever I walk in the door and she's waiting for me, I'll come in and she'll be happy to see me, but then she looks at me like there's something missing and like she's waiting for you to come in right behind me. She's warmed up to me a lot in the last few weeks though. She'll even come and walk onto my lap while I'm sitting on the couch with the laptop. She still likes the keyboard--for whatever reason. Stupid cat. She sleeps in her little bed still at the foot of our bed, and won't shut up about how hungry she is as soon as the sun comes up at 6:30 in the morning. My mom has really spoiled her by feeding her as soon as she wakes up, so on the days that I manage to sleep in, I find her crawling on my back or legs, and especially on my head. You know how I mean.

I could go on and on and on about the things about you that I miss on a daily basis and how all of those little things pile up together into the one giant hole that is consuming me. I want you to know all of it though because I want you to know how I never took you for granted and even all of the little things that no one else noticed or knew about you are the biggest part of me that's missing right now. I love you so much honey, and I love everything that you were and still are to me. In case you're wondering, sweetheart, I'm eating a little bit better than I was the past few weeks (more on a schedule) but I'm still not sleeping well at all. I'm still having nightmares about you every night, and I don't go to bed until I'm completely exhausted so that I can fall right asleep and so that I won't just lie in bed thinking about everything. I'll get there though, and hopefully after the babies are born and my hormones normalize again I'll stop having the nightmares and I'll be able to sleep peacefully again (you know, until Olivia starts screaming and wakes up Sophie who starts screaming...). I wish you were here so that I could tell you all of these things and so that I could just be with you. I wish I was old and that our life had already gone by so that I didn't feel like I had to wait so long to see you again. Maybe time will go by fast? It's definitely something I look forward to. I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of going through this entire life without you. We'll be together again someday, and until that day comes, I'll just keep reminding myself.

I know you're doing well. I'm glad that I don't have to ask you and wonder because I already know the answer. At least that's a good thing. See, I'm taking after you--trying to see the positive in an impossible situation. Alright, it's a start at least. But for now, I'll just say goodnight, and that I love you and miss you, and I love you.