1,095 Days

July 7th and I meet again, this time on the 3rd anniversary. 1,095 days of walking this earth without my husband, my kids without their father. It’s surreal having time pass and stand still at the same time. So much has happened man. Let me light this candle, pour some wine, play the saddest playlist I ever made and rip this damn bandaid off.

Do you watch us from heaven? Can you see the real us when no one is looking? Does it break your heart listening to your daughter cry for you every night? Do you shout when Bug hits the buzzer beater game winner? Am I making you proud? Have you told my dad how crazy I grew up to be? Did he believe you lol? If he did, tell him you lie lol. I wish you would come home for one dinner to see how big these kids are, I still can’t believe you left me in charge Smarty. Shit was a terrible idea.

1,095 days ago Chickie was a vibrant 5 yr old who loved to dance, who loved to smile, attached at your hip egging on those terrible jokes you told. I miss her. This year was the scariest in her grief journey, I couldn’t get anyone to listen to me Smarty. If one more person tried to pacify me that our daughter was just a girl missing her dad, I was going to end up in jail. I’m killing myself exhausting every option possible to get her through losing you. Chick is still in our bedroom, 1,095 days later. That trauma has her frozen in complicated grief. I had her partially hospitalized in April, got her diagnosed officially and we’ve made some progress since then. Our girl is still in there, I’m going to get her back. I promise.

Bug reminds me of you the way he carries this burden with the most beautiful smile. You never let the outside world see your pain, you were the rock. Even to this day when people reminisce about you they talk about your smile and friendly disposition, that’s our son. I don’t let that be enough though, I dig deep in that boy because I know he’s devastated by losing you. You both can fool the outside world, but I know better. Chicks and I couldn’t do this without his anchor. The way he tends to his sister is one of the most incredible things you could witness as a parent. Thank you for him.

The last 3 years for me have been soul defining. Everyone has disappeared or disappointed me so bad that I removed myself from their space. One of the worst things in grief is watching people move on without you. Being mentally paralyzed and they carry on about life as if it matters none is traumatic in itself. I’m not angry though, I’m grateful. I found true peace when I became unattached from those relationships. I’m humbly moving through phase 2 focused on positivity, and living with purpose. I’m going to hold it down everyday I’m walking this earth.

I got us always.

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