23 Months

So weird.  23 Months.  It sounds even more now like I am talking about the nearing of an upcoming  birthday of a toddler than it did a few months ago.  23 months.  Where have they all gone??  I have been trying harder than normal to make sense out of things.  It is such a  long time to not be able to understand the how or the why.  How and why is it that I am the person that has had to endure all of this?  One day I am blaming myself…maybe if I didn’t make so many mistakes along the way God wouldn’t have “punished” me with this burden.  The next day I am blaming Michael….if he had just chosen to be an instructor instead of trying his hand with MARSOC!!!  I lay blame in many places really.  I hate the ever-present platitudes that have become my life more and more every day.  You would think that by now I would get on the band wagon and accept the significantly insignificant things that people have managed to say to me over the past 23 month (UGH!!!), but I can’t.  Their explanations are just ridiculous to me.  “Everything happens for a reason” my butt.  Things just happen, with no rhyme or reason, they just happen.  “Time heals all wounds” bull crap!!!  If so then I really, really, really, really do not know how to bandage myself up properly.  I could go on and on but then this would just turn into a rant.  SO, I won’t.

In an attempt to make sense of things for MYSELF I have turned to music and reading.  Most of the music has managed to downright depress the hell out of me.  So, reading it is.  Imagine how unsurprised I was when I ran into yet another platitude while reading about C.S. Lewis’s grief process after his dear wife died.  Many people told him what many people have told me…that our loved ones are in a better place because they are “with God”.  I won’t argue that it is entirely possible Michael is with God and within my beliefs as well, but in reality we can’t be completely sure.  And, coming from others in a smooth the situation over, half-hearted manner, it is no comfort.  Beyond that, what remains true is something that Lewis acknowledged himself…their death has turned them into these beings that we cannot imagine, comprehend, or even get to.  So yes, Michael is with God, but that doesn’t really make it better that he is not with me.  That doesn’t make each “8th-iversary” any better.  In fact, it makes them terrible.  It is an ugly reminder that the man who I knew and loved is gone and he will not return.  Not ever.  I wonder why God didn’t give us a chance to be something more than what we were…or to put it more clearly, why didn’t I get 50 years with my husband over someone else?  Did he feel as though we had taken our relationship as far as it may go??  Or did he even have a reason??  In the end my reading has seemed to turn up more questions.  But it is “nice” to process the fact that grief is confusing and uprooting for everyone.  Even someone as intellectual as C.S. Lewis.  I have looked at “people like me” and sometimes wondered if they are even struggling in the way that I do.  Do they hide in their closets and cry?  Do they kick their walls in frustration like a child??  Do they feel guilty for loving again?  Do they think as obsessively as I do about their missing mate?  If they do, they hide it so well…it occurs to me that people probably look at me and ask the same questions.

23 months.  With that two years nearing so close I have a continuous feeling of anxiety.  I know that it will remain well into August.  It will be Michael’s 3rd birthday  gone from this world.  It is hard to comprehend that sometimes.  How could it be so many already??  How could he be missing his 28th birthday??  Why did he only make it to 25 years and 11 months?  It might be time to accept that I will never fully understand the how and the why.  Agonizing over it allows me to keep suffering…to keep feeling the pain of losing Mike.  That is just the truth, whether anyone agrees with it or not.  I am afraid to let go.  I am afraid the pain will go away.  If I let the pain go away I might also have to accept that Michael  really is ashes, pictures, and memories now.  I can’t do that….I need him to be more…

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