Number 19

Nineteen years ago today in front of our family and friends Hubs and I said I do.

As usual when you get married in September you never have the opportunity to celebrate your anniversary until sometime in November after all of the back to school activities have died down and high school football season is almost over.  

This year is no different and we will be celebrating in style as I bring Hubs lunch at school from Subway and we watch R1 play baseball later in the evening.

Happy 19th anniversary Hubs. I love you more today than I did all those years ago when we said I do. 

Time Changes Nothing

Grief, it's a funny thing. Some days it feels all most non-existent and other days, well it feels like it is strangling me and it won't ever let go. 

Those are what I call the bad days. 

When the pain of losing my dad grabs hold so strong and pulls me under. I can not describe how it feels other than to say this, when you are out on a boat and standing on the edge, looking down and you jump in and sink down into the water and open your eyes expecting to see some sort of light but you only see darkness. It is quiet and lonely and you are the only one there. 

Those are the days that I feel as if the pain of losing him will never end. The deep deep sorrow that grips my heart and pulls me in farther away from my life. It keeps me from being a good wife, mother, and friend. Probably just a good person in general. 

When those days come I just want to close the blinds, crawl into bed, and pull the covers up and not feel. And if I'm being truthful, which I am, I have done this a time or two. I hear this is normal. I hear it's normal to be so deep in grief that you don't want to feel anything. But I don't know what is normal when dealing with grief. How can anyone say what is normal when each of our journeys are different. 

I'm thankful that my God is loving and merciful and everyday on this grief journey he provides me with grace. I know it is how I make it through the days when the ache of missing my daddy is kept to the outer edge and not allowed to creep in. 

However, it's been ten months since I've talked to my dad. 304 days since I've heard his voice. Dad and I were extremely close. We never went more than three days without talking, even if we were upset with one another, we still called. I still miss the sound of his voice and being in his presence.


I would like to say that I've made peace with the pain of losing him but I haven't. It's always there just below the surface ready to burst out at any given moment. I still miss him just as much today, if not more, than the day he died. 

For me, time has changed nothing. Death changed everything but time has not. 

September 11, 2001

2977, we must never forget. I will never forget.