1 Month

Dear Sean,

Today it's been a month since you died. At least, I'm counting today as that mark since there was no June 31st. It's been a truly terrible month without you. I don't know if this makes sense, but I can handle the being alone, and the not being married anymore, but I can't handle the you not being here part. I just mean that my need doesn't lie in being with a companion or being a "wife" to someone. It lies completely and solitarily with You. I always told you that it wouldn't have mattered to me if we had to live in a cardboard refrigerator box on the side of the road, I just wanted to be with you. Not to sound too Tom Cruise, but you really did complete me. And I have been completely incomplete for the last month.

I missed June entirely. It was like, I could watch the whole month go passed as if I were looking through a screen to the other side. I don't feel like I participated in the month whatsoever, and somehow, here I am in July already. I thought these summer months would fly by swiftly because of the pregnancy and the anticipation of the babies being born, but really it's because I'm trapped in some sort of time-warp where the world moves around me and I stay put, just watching all of it go by.

I go to your grave pretty often, and I've even noticed how much it has changed already. The grass is starting to take root and settle, and there have been several decoration changes over the weeks. I've noticed my belly getting bigger and bigger and think to myself, where did it even come from? You'd love it right now, sweetheart. I'm well on my way to becoming the blueberry you always said I'd be like. I haven't had to roll around yet, but it is getting harder to walk and move places.

I've learned some things about myself in this past month too. Like that I have a very real weak side. People always tell me how strong I am, but I haven't felt strong at all since you died. I feel like the wind could come and blow me away and I wouldn't even be able to put up the slightest fight. I haven't been able to be strong for myself, or for the babies. I make sure to eat and drink and all of the "required" things, but anything extra is so much work, it's so overwhelming. I've also learned that even though I could be tough with other people when it came to you and your care, I'm not as tough as I thought, and everything gets to me now. I'm just not the same person, and I think that a huge part of me died right along with you, and I don't think it will ever come back.

This month has been so gray, and lifeless. It has definitely been the most emotional month of my entire life. All of the dreams/nightmares, flashbacks, memories, thoughts, and prayers of everything to do with you. It's like my brain is overloaded with this information...a month's worth, really, and it doesn't process itself at the same rate as everything piles up. I've thought about you literally in every situation I've found myself in, from needing to pee every 5 minutes to going back to work, and I picture what you'd be doing if you were here with me, or what you'd say to me, or what you'd say about what was happening. I've remembered you a lot and sometimes I remember you how you looked on our first date, and sometime I remember you how you looked on Saturday before you died. Sometimes it's you around the time we got married. I don't usually picture you while you were sick, although I'm constantly thinking about when you were sick and how everything has played out. Sometimes memories will just pop into my head out of nowhere, and sometimes they're triggered by things I'll see or hear or touch or smell. All of my senses are working overtime to try to send messages to my brain saying, "remember this! Do not forget this!".

Not much has changed around the house in the past month, though. I haven't moved anything yet. Your clothes are exactly where you left them. Your medications are still in the coffee table where you left them. Your phone charger is still plugged into the outlet. Your towel is still in the bathroom. Your xbox is still in the entertainment unit. I've set aside a specific box to place things in of yours that I want to keep, or things that remind me of you or have something to do with you. I have your birth, marriage, and death certificates in there, your wedding ring, and your livestrong band. I have the letter you wrote to me for our first anniversary, a journal I've been writing of memories of you, a program from your funeral, and notes that people wrote about their thoughts and memories of you. There's more in there as well, and I'm not finished adding to it, but you know how I am about being sentimental and nostalgic, so this could go on for a little while. There will come a day when I can go through your things and decide what to leave out for me to enjoy and what to box up, but I do know that I'm no where near ready for that.

This month hasn't been a good one, I'm not going to lie to you. It's been the hardest of my life, the worst really. And I don't even know if the worst is over. Maybe I'd have a better answer for that if I was doing better than I was a month ago. I'm not doing better, I'm doing differently. I don't cry every morning as soon as I wake up and remember you're gone, but there are times when I'll break down out of no where, and it doesn't even matter where I'm at. I wake up from having terrible nightmares about you into a reality where my first conscious thought is, "Sean isn't here". I hate it. I can't decide which is worse. My reality, or my nightmares.

I don't know how this next month is going to go, but if it's anything like this first month, I won't be surprised. If it's exactly the same, I'll have expected it. I miss you so much it physically hurts. It makes my breath get shorter, my heart rate to go up, my eyes to well up with tears, and my heart to feel like it's tearing in two. And I still love you so much, and that's probably the only thing that gets me from one day to the next right now too. I love you and I know what you'd want me to do and what you'd say to me, and even the thought of those things is too much for me to ignore. You've made your lasting impression on my heart forever, and I'm definitely not sorry about that, but I'd rather have you here with me instead of being forced to simply remember.

I remember you, honey, and I hope that whatever you're doing in Heaven right now, you're still able to remember me. I love you so so much, and I miss you terribly and awfully. I wish this month had never happened and that everything was how it should be, but nothing is that way. Everything is wrong still, and it's only been a month.



I think I'm in for a long set of months....



I miss you sweetheart, but I love you.