One morning in early Feb, I woke up sobbing. I cried and cried. It was hard to breathe. I struggled to even get out of bed. My heart felt broken.
Several hours later, tears continued to slide down my cheeks. While seated, cross-legged, on a yoga mat, I thought, “Why? It’s almost like today is the anniversary of Tris’s death.”
Then I realized. In a way, it was. It had been exactly 3 years and six months since he died. Immediately, I felt less crazy. At some deep subconscious level, my body knew of the day’s significance, although my conscious brain had struggled to figure it out.
Calendar days are arbitrary, of course. Still, I can’t seem to let them go. Calendar days provide a link to the past, to the precise time in the world when he was here.
In some ways, my grief is amazingly astute.
And in other ways, my grief is shameful. I regress. It’s not fair! I ask pointless questions, queries without answers. Why isn’t he here? Why do I have to do this without him? What’s the point of anything, anyway?
Later this year, I’m going to turn 50 years old. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to reach this milestone without him.
My 50th bday was the absolute hardest. My husband had passed away in Jan, and my 50th arrived the end of April. As my daughter sang a solo happy birthday to me, I started to cry, and she could not finish. I truly had not wanted to experience that milestone— or any of them!— without him. Yesterday was my 53rd birthday, and I am staggered by 2 things: how much I have changed, and how much is still the same. Gratefully, the emotional upheaval has evened out! And also gratefully, the spirit of my late husband still is with me and my daughter. Thank you so much for sharing your experience. I just now listened to your podcast with Christina Rasmussen, and had not heard of you prior. I am also dating a wonderful man now, and my daughter is in her 2nd year of college. What you shared resonated DEEPLY with me. Again, thank you so very, very much.