Soul Rehab

A year ago today, on January 13th, I lost the love of my life, my best friend and partner.  My very soul was ripped in half.  Over the last 12 months, I've focused on surviving this hole in my world.  It doesn't get any easier, but I've grown accustomed to the pain.

I've learned what my limits are, I've figured out how to ride through the unpredictable waves of grief, and I've worked out how to function in a world that feels like a shadow of what once was. I've gotten good at surviving.  I spent this last year with one sole focus... get through it.  Make it through all of the firsts without Daniel.

I have made it through, but I realize I didn't plan well for what happens on day 366. I know now that there is something harder than losing my sweet boy.  What comes next is living without him... and that scares the hell out of me.

I don't know how to "do life" without him with me.  I feel like I've had my legs cut off at the knees and now I must start over.  It's like learning to walk again on artificial limbs.  I don't feel ready or prepared to stand yet, but I also know that it won't be any easier if I wait.

I think how unfair it is that Daniel only got to live on this Earth for less than 37 years.  There was so much left that he wanted to do.  I can't just hid away in this safe cocoon I've built, feeling sorry for myself and wasting my days when he had so few.  And, I realize, this is a place for me to start.

We spent so many nights sharing our dreams.  I know that he loved being up in the mountains in Colorado, that he wanted to visit Japan, that he aspired to one day hike the Appalachian Trail.  He wanted to learn Kendo and start Tai Chi.  He talked about taking classes on how to make sushi and about buying a classic car to fix up.  There were so many things that we were going to do together... some day.

As always, we are still a team.  I have the chance to get out there and start living for both of us until the blessed day that I get to join him again. I think the first step is to do some of the things we never got around to doing together.

This is practice run at starting to live again. Daniel might not be here in person, but I know he will be by my side every step of the way.  I don't know if I can do it, and I am sure I will fall a lot in the process.  I look at these first few steps on my own as physical therapy for the soul.

I love you Daniel.

Goodbye 2015

I initially wanted to call this New Year's post "So long 2015, you were the worst year of my life, you stink, nothing good came from you and I am so glad that I will never have to spend one more minute with  you!" However, there are three problems with this:

1.  It isn't really a catchy title
2.  It's way too long for the title field
3.  ... It isn't really all true...

While it is a fact that this has been the worst year of my life and I cannot put into words what I have lost (although Lord knows I've tried in these musings over the last 8 months) there were blessings as well.  It is during times such as these that we really understand what matters.  I know that I am so lucky to have people in my life that made it possible for me to live through my worst nightmare.

Starting the moment I lost Daniel, I have been embraced and surrounded by amazing people who held me up when I could not stand.

• The kind North Richland Hills police officer who waited with me in the ER for over an hour until my family could drive in to town and take me home just so that I would not be alone.  
• The incredible people who attended Daniel's funeral to help say goodbye and celebrate his life with me.  So many came that the chapel ran out of seating and some had to stand.  I could feel the waves of love and support hold me up that day. 
• My sisters who I can call on at any time, 24/7. Shelley, who took over and made all of the small details possible including getting me to the funeral home to plan the service and made sure the house was presentable for guests and still makes sure that I have home cooked meals and my comforting tea whenever I needed it.  Emily, who has spend more evenings than I can count this year making sure that I am not lonely and stays over with me so that I have companionship. Both of whom have been there for me every one of the 346 days since my life lost all meaning.
• My parents who flanked me at the funeral and held me up so that I wouldn't fall that day and continue to do so to this day.  My dad who whispered funny stories of Daniel while we waited so that I could laugh through the tears and remember better times during that horrible day.  My wonderful mom who worries for me, takes care of me, and makes sure I am taking care of myself.
• My brother Scott, and my niece and nephews who keep me smiling and give me the hugs and kisses that I need.
•  My CCFW family that has circled the wagons around me and given me a safe place to work during my grieving and a purpose to get up in the mornings. These wonderful people have invited me out for lunch and dinner and given me tons of love and support.  I have a place to feel whole, productive, and needed here.
• The folks I've met through the www.griefhealingdiscussiongroups.com support group who are fighting to survive similar devastating losses but still take the time to comfort and encourage each other.
• Marvelous friends and loved ones that laugh and cry with me, who call me out of the fog when I go in too deep, and who keep pulling me back to the land of the living when I want curl up and die.  Some of who traveled from across states to be there by my side as I had to say goodbye.  All of whom are just a call, text, or message away when I need to talk, laugh, or live vicariously through their antics until I feel up to rejoining the world.

2015 was without a doubt the most heartbreaking year I've ever experienced.  But I cannot say that I would't want to spend one more second living through it.  I had the gift of 12 wonderful days with Daniel in 2015.  I will never be able to say that again for any year to come.  What wouldn't I give now for even 12 minutes more?  If I could just live in those first 12 days of January 2015 forever, I would do so in a heartbeat.  

So, 2015 I bid you a conflicted adieu.  

I love you Daniel.