I really have.
My daughter's Sweet 16 birthday, for example. With a lot of help from my besties, I threw her a luau themed party (on a cloudy Puget Sound day). Throwing parties is not something I do often (or well), but she loved it and had a great time, which was all that mattered to me.
I remember telling Mark when I first started thinking about having a big to-do for her, that it would happen no matter what, like if he was in the hospital or something. He asked why he'd be in the hospital and I replied, "because you just are sometimes, duh!" He asserted that he wouldn't be in the hospital.
I suppose he was right.
I did miss him very much that day; the kinds of days he should be here to experience with us. There will be many more, I know.
Another big thing I could have shared was the 2 1/2 week California vacation we got to go on. My mom and step-dad flew us down to spend time with them, and then we got to see friends too. I did share photos via Instagram along the way....
Highlights include my kids getting to see Santa Cruz, Monterey and Yosemite for the first time. Going to Santa Cruz was the very first trip Mark and I ever took together way back in 1994, and I spent my 18th wedding anniversary there this year.
That was really special.
Or, how while we were away, I had family coming and going from my house getting a plumbing leak repaired, my dented garage door replaced and my shabby (not chic) exterior trim repainted.
|New garage door and first story green trim repainted.|
So yeah, I could have sat down and written about things we did or that happened that didn't (directly) have anything to do with Mark's death.
A dizzying amount of things have happened or changed.
The thing is, it seems, no matter what is going on, and despite moments of distraction from our loss, my thoughts constantly return to Mark and that he's gone.
Like, I wouldn't have been on that trip were it not for Mark's passing. I would have sent my kids and stayed home with him. I occasionally found myself thinking he was at home waiting for us to return. Some guilt crept in, even though I know it's silly.
I've had a lot of (often unsettling) dreams about Mark, so I'm not free from my thoughts of him even while asleep.
I finally got around to finishing the HBO series True Blood. The very last song played at the very end of the final episode was "Thank You" by Led Zeppelin, which was our song. I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't have cried, or even thought much of it, had I watched before Mark died; probably would have merely thought, "oh that's a cool song choice".
"If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me."
Three months into the grieving process I continue to have moments of disbelief that Mark is actually gone. Still! And then I can't believe that I still can't believe it.
I suppose my obtuse-ness goes to show that no amount of forethought and/or knowledge of someone's fate makes accepting it any easier.
I most definitely miss my husband. I'm feeling his absence more and more.