Entry 42: Eight Months

As I was riding in the car with my besties yesterday on the way to the incredible Hiss Golden Messenger and Mumford & Sons show, a song came on, and I said this reminds me so much of Brian. My friend said, I'm sorry I will turn it off.  I was like NO WAY! Obviously my best friend was trying to be empathetic and kind by turning it off, but it made me realize how much I LOVE and appreciate being reminded of Brian.

Today marks 8 months. It still feel unimaginable that he was here and now he isn't. Yet, all the time I am reminded on him.  I love TimeHop and that fact that I take a million pictures. I love that daily I can see his face and a picture of a little moment that wasn't significant but now means so much. I am also thankful for my line a day journal that has all the minor details written down for the past 6 years. We rejoiced last year around this time because scans looked stable.

Tori stayed with us during the hurricane and she was looking at her TimeHop and from the backseat Harper yelled, "Hey! That's my Daddy!"  I just love the excitement and joy she shines when talking about him.  Today when I picked her up from school, her teacher pulled me aside and said that she had something to tell me. She said that she was discussing something and without thinking asked Harper about her Mommy and Daddy to which Harper replied something blunt and innocent like"My Daddy is dead". Just like my friend in the car, I told her teacher to please not feel bad. This is part of Harper's life. She will forever experience having to talk about her daddy even though he isn't living anymore. But it's also great because she will get those reminders too. She will get chances to say my Daddy is dead but he always made funny faces....or whatever other memory she likes to share.

The craziest part of today was sitting with Mom and Harper at Cracker Barrel and looking up and realizing at the table behind us was one of his Hospice nurses. Although that time was insanely difficult and I can remember details like it was yesterday, I couldn't recall this woman's name, but I was insanely thankful of the reminder of the amazing care, the peace that filled that room for so many days, and the sign that even if I am not trying I will always think about Brian.

Every time I see a roach I am reminded. Anything related to football and I am reminded.  Stories from the people who knew him the most and I am reminded. Harper's crazy antics when trying to avoid bed and all I can see his him, I am reminded. Harper yells randomly...A LIGHTNING BOLT FOR MY DADDY and I look over at a random scooter parked at the gym and I am reminded.

So at 8 months, my grief seems back under control. We are all settled into the new house. And most of all, I am thankful for the times I get to say...oh that reminds me of him.

Entry 41: Happy Birthday

 As I walked down stairs this morning there was a half dead cockroach on his back in the kitchen. As in the middle of thinking...ugh! Why do I have roaches....I started laughing! If you remember from a previous blog Brian always sent dead roaches as a delivery to my classroom with students when we both taught in the middle school. I was not the only receiver of roaches. Others were blessed with these special gifts. So on the day of his birth, it is only appropriate that a roach gave me a reminder of my silly husband.

And although it feels like crazytown right now and the hurricane has made my "singleness" very apparent when I am the sole person making very important decisions for my family, I am happy to celebrate Brian today.   I read this great article that was circulating recently on grief [https://www.thriveglobal.com/stories/12245-grief-isn-t-something-to-get-over?utm_source=Arianna&utm_medium=Facebook].  I love how it makes me feel about my grief. I remember vividly one night as Pastor Larry was leaving Hospice he said to me, "You will never get over this, but you will get through it." He is so right.  The article says, "One of the reasons that grief happens to be triggered by external reminders, such as in anniversary reactions, is because grief is an emotion that sends a vague alert to help you to remember, rather than to forget." Yes! This! This is why I celebrate Brian today. I don't want to forget. I want to always remember his wildly inappropriate, fun, loving, generous, hilarious soul. I don't ever want to get over him.

The day started with waking up and crying happy tears reading others happy birthday posts to Brian. Next, Harper went to her room to get dressed. This is a common occurrence and she normally comes out with the craziest of outfits. Not today! She came out wearing a bolt shirt and matching pants. A birthday miracle!  After breakfast and hurricane prep with the fram, I got a gift on Brian's birthday! My talented friend Trey brought over tables that he handcrafted for our family room. I love that I will be able to look at the tables and remember they were given to us on Brian's birthday. Also both Trey and Suzy showed up in lightning bolt shirts.
Then after a great counseling session, we all met at Brian's grave for cupcakes and singing of the happy birthday song, followed by pizza at our house.  It was such a great way to smile and celebrate our man, Brian surrounded by people who love him.  It was also an incredible to get texts and love from new friends that never knew Brian but say things like, "I didn't know him, but I am sad that I didn't! I feel like I missed out majorly." How amazing is that to have new friends in our lives that send that kind of love.

So although I feel in a pretty stable place today emotionally on an anniversary, I know I am nowhere near out of the waters of grief.  As my friend Sarah shared with me from this article,  [https://www.good.is/articles/best-comment-ever]:

"You can see them (the waves of grief) coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.
Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves."

 

 So I'll ride the wave where it takes me.