It’s been almost eight months without you now. Time seems to be moving so slowly, yet I can’t seem to fathom how it’s already almost been eight months.
I still think I see you everywhere. Sometimes I catch myself forgetting that you’re gone, and then I feel a rush of excitement when I want to tell you something. And then it hits like a ton of bricks. I don’t know what’s worse, forgetting, or constantly remembering.
I got a new job. I think you would be proud. It’s weird, because I never really got to tell you about my other job either. You were gone before my first day. As rough as that job was, I would have had so much fun telling you about it. You were always so fun to tell stories to; chiming in and laughing at all the right moments.
Your best friend came to visit. It was probably one of the worst days since you’ve been gone. He misses you so much. I hope I don’t sound selfish for saying this, but it was almost a relief seeing his grief. It was as though someone understood how we felt. That even though the months seem to still be passing by, the grief is still so fresh. Nobody really seems to get that.
I tried listening to your voicemails once. Still debating if that was a bad decision or not. I think my eyes were probably puffy for two days. But I really just needed to hear your voice. Your voicemails were always so hilarious. Sometimes they would be a continuation of what we were talking about the night before, and the message would sound as though you were speaking right to me instead of leaving a message. It would sound something like, “Anyways I saved a few more of those shows about the haunted items on Discovery Channel for next time you visit. There’s a bottle of Crown waiting for ya. Remind of that show you wanted me to watch too. The one about the ninja warriors?” And then you’d end it with “love ya, Reb. Hug the kids for me.” The ‘kids’ being my pets.
It still hurts so much. This year has been full of just trying to get through everything without you for the first time. My birthday, Easter, Mothers day, Father’s day, Mom’s birthday. We still have so many to go and I don’t even want to think about them. I can’t stop thinking about how you’re supposed to be here. Not just for these moments, or holidays, but every day. You’re supposed to be at the other end of the line when I call. You’re supposed to be home when I visit. There was still so much you wanted to see and do.
Every day just feels like an uphill battle. Sometimes when I think of you I’m able to smile, but most of the time I’m still just crying. And the world is just completely back to normal. Everyone expects us to just be fine and smile and go about our lives, as though you weren’t just ripped away from us. They don’t realize that everything reminds me of you. And if it were up to me I’d still be spending my days in bed crying. I still cry most days, but it’s right before bed, or in the shower, or when I take the dogs on their morning bathroom break. I just don’t understand how anything can every actually feel normal ever again. And I don’t want to find that new normal either.
I wish I was there for you more. Maybe if I tried harder to talk to you about how you were feeling you’d still be here. I know we can’t go into the what if’s or else I’d never crawl out of bed, though. But I can’t help it if I do think about those what if’s sometimes.
Not all days are bad. Sometimes I sit and think about how proud you might of all that we’ve accomplished. I hope I’m making you proud. I know I’ve certainly made mistakes these past 8 months, but I’m trying. I promise to keep trying for you. and for our family. I miss you so much, and hope you’re flying free with everyone you lost too soon in this life.
20 Something POV 