Firsts…

It was a year ago. I remember it clearly. The short, rapid breathing that would last most of the day. People coming and going. The anticipation. And then it happened. He took his final breaths and the life left his body. He was gone.
Today is the first year anniversary of his death. The first 365 days without him in our lives. A year of many firsts.The first week…difficult…a blur…friends…tears…regaining composure. I remember Melayna had hundreds day in Kindergarten. I remember going through the garage and purging some things. I remember conversations with Dani and Jenny.
First Valentine’s Day…girls night out…Fifty Shades of Grey…drinks at Back East Bar & Grill…Flowers and a love bug from friends…still difficult…still in shock…still in pain.
First month…disbelief…doubt…guilt…a mask to hide the pain…hurting…aching…moving on…life was starting to find a new normal. A new status quo. His absense was definitely noticed.
First birthday…worked and worked out…nothing special…just another day. Scott would have wanted to go out. He would have gotten me something geeky I’m sure. But my friends had other thoughts. Painting with a Twist with some of the best people I know. And that was special. I even received geeky things from them. Definitely not just another day.
First geek conventions, first Mother’s Day, first Father’s Day, first family camping trip, first time Tristan mows the lawn, first concert as a family, first anniversary, first summer break, first braces, first kids’ birthdays, first 14er, first Halloween, first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first New Year, his first birthday, first year. And I’m sure this isn’t the half of it.


This past year has been filled with so many memories, emotions, mistakes, regrets, accomplishments, and joy. All without him. These past few weeks, my grief has really caught up with me. I was so busy living life and filling up my time, that my grief has only manifested sporadically. Moments of breakdown, often because I was reminded of him in some way. But something has been building up. I’ve become more distant. I’ve become more quick to anger. I’ve become resentful. I’ve had bouts of hopelessness. I’ve had the feeling of wanting to finally give up. After all I’ve been through. All that I’ve seen and done. All that I’ve put up with. I am just now feeling like I cannot move on any longer. And frankly, that scares the living daylights out of me. Smiles don’t come as easily anymore. I was convinced this is normal. This is what grieving is. But recently, I was made aware that it could be something much more than just grief. So, I am going to set up counseling. For me and for my kids. I hate feeling this way. I hate how I am. And there is still a spark in me to not give up just yet. I just don’t know how much longer that spark will remain. Until it withers away into nothing.


I can look back on the last 365 days and say that we have done a lot. Our family has made many memories together. I know that Scott would have been happy to see us doing so much. I still think of him. I know that he and I had our differences at times and I have many regrets on how those times were handled. But I cannot change what is past. I can only learn from those mistakes and move forward. I do have many fond memories of him. The moments we shared. The children we began to raise together. So many things I need to cherish and hold on to for my children.
I need to focus on the good and not the bad. I thought I had it all figured out. But now I am not so sure. I only hope that I can move forward from this. I started to move forward in my life. Many good things have happened. But somehow, I was blindsided by my grief and caught off guard. I am hoping that this is only temporary and life can resume. Sometimes you have to fight like hell to make sure you are still alive. Sometimes you fill up your time to keep yourself from falling apart. Life is filled with pain. With sorrow and sadness. It is something we all experience to some degree or another. I seem fine on the outside, but there are some days I don't know how I put one foot in front of the other. I may seem strong to many, but I feel so damned weak inside. The truth of it all: I hurt. My children hurt. And it sucks. But that's what it is to grieve. Some days are better than others. I just hope the better days outweigh the not so good days. I am grateful, though, to have some very understanding people in my life. People willing to hold me in their arms and let me cry. People willing to listen to me. People who have been patiently waiting for me to see what they have been seeing all along. I see it now. And I am going to do something about it.