It is unimaginable that it has been eight years. As Harper and I were scrolling back through Instagram to find a baby picture for her teachers, I don’t only miss Brian, but I miss Harper even though she’s still alive and with me. I miss her as a baby. I miss her as a little who couldn’t say her Rs. I miss Brian as an adoring dad. I hate that I have to scroll so far to find a memory of all three of us together to share with Harper. I hate that there aren’t more of them to make together. I miss the one person who would enjoy her as much as I do. I miss them both and eight years feels like forever.
January my brain floods with Brian. Whether it’s the anticipation to Harper’s birthday that also paralleled with the anticipation of the end of the cancer/Hospice journey or some crazy way your body internalizes the heavy times, I don’t know. But I notice more things that remind me of him. Harper was picking pink paint for the walls of her room makeover. She picked a color and later realized it was called “elephant pink”. Brian has painted elephants on Harper’s pink nursery walls and she made the connection. Or Harper’s teacher emailed me and said, “She cracks me up all the time!” Brian would be so proud of the humor and I can’t help but to think that she got it from him. Or his friends gifting us their annual donation to Harper’s college fund at the end of their fantasy football season and thinking how damn special it is that they still take care of his girls and fulfill their promises even eight years later.or driving in the car and hearing our first dance song which he picked because duh, he loved music. But honestly the song isn’t that pretty, or easy to listen to, and doesn’t normally make me want to listen to the whole thing yet I really pay attention to the lyrics this time.
I want somebody to share
Share the rest of my life
Share my innermost thoughts
Know my intimate details
Someone who’ll stand by my side
And give me support
And in return
She’ll get my support
We had that! I got Brian and his support for the rest of his life. And how can I not be grateful that it was us and he was mine! The song goes on to say,
I want somebody who cares
For me passionately
With every thought and every breath
We also had that! And for that I am lucky!
Being flooded with memories and emotions is such a good way to remember him. What I wouldn’t give to ride around with him and for him to pause the song and tell me the meaning of the lyrics and all of the background story. I’d love to see what random prize he’d bring home for Harper from a work trip. I’d love to discuss the daily happenings at FSDB and get his take. I’d love to still know the details of his best friends’ lives because of their ongoing group text. I’d love to watch a Redskins game (because let’s be real he’d refuse to call them the Commanders) and have him lose his mind over all the last minute Jayden Daniels wins. I’d love for him to hack my Facebook and post something ridiculous yet have people still believing it was me who had posted. I’d love to see him harass Harper’s friends at her birthday party or be her biggest cheerleader at her gymnastics meet.
What the eight years have taught me though is to live. And gosh if my life isn’t pretty damn fantastic right now. Cherish those friendships because you never know when the last funny text or real hug comes. Do the adventures. Feel the feelings. And love super duper big. Also say the words. I’m so thankful that I screenshotted every text and post from eight years ago. Reading the amazing word and kind things people said about Brian and our family still touches me deeply. Those words still mean so much eight years later. Don’t hold back. Love you all.
Happy 11th birthday, Harper Newton, my best gift and his best legacy!
