Last week was a heavy week for me. Thursday marked two years since Tony died by suicide, leaving behind unanswered questions and heartache.
These are the waves of grief we see coming and we can almost prepare for them.
Last Monday, I sent the kids to school, wrote my blog, and then let the sadness wash over me. I knew it was my best day to sit with my emotions. I skipped the gym, stayed in my pajamas, didn’t reply to many text messages, and let myself have more than one good cry. After I put the kids to bed that night, I took a hot bath to relax from an emotional day. As I sat there, I noticed the bathroom light flickering on and off. Tony likes to do that when I’m in the bath or the shower, he was always asking me if I needed any help when I was in the shower. This light has been flickering on and off for almost two years without burning out, it always gives me a little snicker.
Tuesday and Wednesday were busy days for me. There was no time to have a proper cry and sit with grief.
Thursday, I woke early. I was tired in grief but unable to sleep. The kids and I all took off school and work, so we had a slow start to the day. A friend came over for coffee and hugs. We had lunch with his family and my parents at one his favorite BBQ spots. I took the kids to an escape room to literally escape the permeating sadness for an hour. Our youngest had his first baseball game of the season and came out with a win. Once we were home, I realized our neighbors were gathered supporting each other and ready to support me.
That’s the thing that struck me this year. I sort of expected to be forgotten now that we have passed the one-year mark. I had low expectations of outside support for year two. However, I was anything but forgotten.
I received texts, cards, flowers, and hugs all day.
Our friends carry a heavy burden on April 20th. Not only are they lifting me up and helping me carry the weight of grief, but they are also holding their own grief. Tony was everyone’s best friend. That’s just the kind of guy he was. When we were younger and in the wedding season of our lives, he was quite literally everyone’s best man. I lost track of how many tuxedos he rented. So, I know I’m not the only one who lost their best friend that day. And that makes me love my friends even more. None of us will forget Tony and we’ll never stop missing him. We don’t have to compete on who is the saddest or lost the most that day. We can just hug each other and know how much we love Tony.
