“Who would I be if he hadn’t died?” I often ask myself.
What would I be doing today if my life was not broken into thousands of pieces 10 years ago?
A husband, a couple of kids, living this life with its normal everyday things.
What if he hadn’t died?
This parallel universe would not have been here.
July 21st (yesterday) was the ten year anniversary since his passing.
Ten whole years of a parallel universe.
Sometimes, I wonder if there is another universe with myself intact from grief, where I am lucky enough to just complain about the weather, gossip about the neighbors and worry about what to make for dinner.
I can’t lie to you. Sometimes, I was jealous of all the people living their lives in such a casual manner. They didn’t worry about the nights.
The empty bed. The single parenting.
Their kids missing their dad.
They were young like me, but so carefree.
I lost a whole decade during the cancer and death years.
Sorry to be so blunt. But that’s what it was.
And my babies were so young.
I missed out on them being toddlers.
Don’t worry I am not bitter. I am just finally able to acknowledge for myself the many invisible losses that took place within that big loss.
People write to me to tell me how much harder it is to lose someone when you are older. Honestly, I’m happy to switch places with you.
So, I don’t have to lose so much so early. So, I don’t have to tell my girls that their dad is never coming back.
So, if you are planning to write to me to tell me that I was young enough to restart my life. Don’t do it. I don’t want to read it.
Not today anyway.
If I had to choose to experience unthinkable losses when I was 30 or 70 I would choose 70. And so would you.
40 more years without tragedy. 40 more years where my kids could have their dad. So he could be here with them when they needed him. What a gift that would have been.
People ask me how is it 10 years later.
Is it better? Is it different? Here is what my experience is…
You still wish you could tell them things that happen.
You still wish you could see them even for a few moments.
You still look for them. And yes there is sadness.
But there is no torture.
There is no daily physical pain.
You just carry them with you.
Every day. You still love them.
And you will always miss them.
That won’t change.
As a matter of fact I don’t think it should.
It is not meant to.
And for those of you who want to know if I am happy again.
Yes, I am very happy, but it is a very different kind of happiness.
I had to redefine everything for myself because he was not coming back. My innocence was out the door and my heart was in a million pieces.
Who you see here is someone who is part human, part something else.
I stand between life and another dimension every single day.
And so do you. And so do you.