…… is probably the best way to describe how I am feeling today, the day that marks the sixth year since Jim died.
It also happens to be the birthday of my sister, my brother and my step-dad.  Which totally sucked for them 6 years ago.  I hope it sucks less now.

I’m at a good point in my life, and yet ……
…… I miss him.
So very much.

I’m looking forward to Christmas, for the first time in six years, and yet ……
I’m also sad that two of my sons will be back in Texas, while the rest of us are up east.
I know that this eventually happens with most families with adult children.  And with six children, I can’t really expect that we’ll all spend every holiday together, no matter how much I’d like that.

I love living in New York and I truly feel that this is home now, and yet ……
the tears have flowed this week, and flow as I write this.
That’s because I can never, EVER say, or write/type the words, “I miss him”, without crying.
Even after 6 years.
God, how I miss him.

But I am in such a better place now, even with the tears.
Rather than feeling depressed and hopeless this week, I mostly feel wistful.
Which is so much better than how I’ve felt the past six years.
I looked up the definition of “wistful” and here’s what Merriam-Webster’s says:

  adjective ˈwist-fəl

: having or showing sad thoughts and feelings about something that you want to have or do and especially about something that made you happy in the past

Wow!  That pretty much sums it up.  I’m having sad thoughts and feelings about someone I want to have, and especially about someone who made me happy in the past.  Wistful, but not full blown grieving, because I’ve moved forward and know it isn’t possible to have him back.  And I know that focusing on my grief at this point in my life will keep me from seeing the good in my life.
It will keep me from living in my “now”, and enjoying the people and things I have now.

Hell, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t trade everything to have him back.  That will always be a “given”.  It just means that I now accept the fact that I’ll never have the chance to do that.  But I do have a chance, every day, to focus, and enjoy my “now”.  
That doesn’t mean that there won’t be more tears today, or in the future.
It doesn’t mean that things are always great, or that they will always be great.
I’m not a fool.

I’m just a woman who’s grieved very, very hard …… and is relieved to just feel ……
wistful …… on this day.
And during these holidays.

I wish that for each of you …… in your own time.

I love you, Jim.  And always will.
No matter how many December 18ths come and go.