…. our 27th anniversary.

Friday.

The 28th.

It should have been.

 

Instead, it was the day our oldest child/daughter graduated from graduate school.

And I was with her.

Just me.

 

It should have been us.

But it wasn’t.

It was just me.

Again.

I get tired of it being just me.

For everything.

Every big day.

Every “first day of ….”

Every “last day of ….”

Every birthday.

Every graduation.

Every visit.

Every holiday.

 

Every night.

 

Yes, these days/events are getting easier for me.

Yes, I cry a whole lot less now.

Yes, that horrifying pain is no longer with me every day.

 

No, he doesn’t occupy every thought now.

No, I don’t wake up every morning thinking that he’s dead.

No, I don’t wish that I were dead now.

 

Nothing has changed in the last 2 years.

And yet many things have.

He’s still dead.

But I am healing.

 

I’ll always be scarred.

I’ll never be the same.

But I will be OK.

More than OK.

 

And every single year when May 28th rolls around I will think …….

 

…. “It should have been ….”