This week was the first anniversary of Tony’s death. Despite the strange time warp of grief, I have pulled us along into the second year. One hour, one day, one week, one month at a time. I imagine the road ahead is counted in years instead of the grains of time, but time will tell.
The kids and I spent the day at the indoor waterpark as planned. They swam, played, and rode the water slides for six whole hours.
I had a little time to myself in the middle of the day as I held down our base camp. I took that time to write something of a poem that I’d like to share with you.
When the sound of someone’s laugh can make you smile and cry.
The heaviness your heart holds on the hardest days.
Waking up with tears in your eyes for the love lost.
Drifting to sleep, begging for them to show up in your dreams.
Hugging an urn when no one is watching.
Finding a way to smile through the holidays and birthdays for your children.
Forgiving the unimaginable because love is stronger than anger.
Keeping that one beer in the fridge where he left it.
Feelings of profound loss watching other dads play with their children.
Staying up too late to avoid going to bed alone.
Sending yourself flowers on Valentine’s Day.
Spending holidays on vacation to avoid the emptiness of home.
The expressions of love that can never be shown in the physical form again.
All encompassing. The sand that fills every nook and cranny of your life.
Besides Tony, over the last year I have lost hair and weight, friends, our future plans, and innocence to true grief. I have also built stronger friendships, a sense of community and this, a place to find my voice and express myself through the written word.
As I enter year two, I will continue to do my best to live my mantra.
Stay Strong, Be Brave. Love Hard.