I’ll be dealing with this for the rest of my life, in some way, but I feel like I’m ready to move on.

I’ve grieved, I’ve accepted it, and I’ve made peace with how this turned out. And I’ve got hope for the future.. 8 months ago

In the last three weeks, my life has been pretty much turned upside dowm, and I’m a bit at a loss with how to come to terms with it and start healing.

It could be much, much worse (can’t it always though?), but it’s bad enough as it is, and each day has been a struggle to get through.

I had forgotten how bad things can hurt.. physically, mentally, and emotionally. 10 months ago

Four years today. It’s hard to believe. I had a good long-distance talk with his mom yesterday, she’s hanging in, her big goal is to make it to her golden anniversary next year, and I’m dearly hoping she does. She sounded in good spirits; making the utmost of her days.

I still feel like I’m breaking inside when I think about our phone call back then, the mistake with the police and me having to tell her because she was already on the other end of the phone wanting to know if everything was okay and wanting to drop the receiver and run away because it so, so wasn’t okay and how do you tell anyone that? How do you ever find acceptable words for something so unacceptable? I imagine myself in her position and it’s too painful to think about.

I wish he was here to see what an amazing little boy Isak’s grown into. I wish he’d been at the hospital to again welcome new life into the world – last time he was dancing around proudly passing out chocolate cigars; nearly as excited as we were.

Today I faced the pile of his boxes (still sitting there smelling of cigarettes and such in the back of the storage room) and got through several. I even filled a box with old books of his for donation – that felt like a big step forward. As I said in another post this morning, I need to let as much as possible go; accept that I don’t need to micromanage every tiny thing he owned and find it a new sacred home, I can just… let it go. I’m allowed, I just need to give myself permission.

I think that bears repeating, because I seem to feel extraordinarily guilty about releasing his things, but every time I actually do it, whether it’s something given to the right person at the right time, or a box of papers sent to be cremated at Burning Man, or something randomly donated to a stranger, the whole feeling around his death gets lighter, not just freedom of tangible space, but an unwedging of congested grief that had previously been sort of ignored, packed away into dark corners, unreleased.

I’m going to sort the boxes of his books into ones I’d actually like to read (and there are quite a few), and ones I’m hanging on to just because. I’ll try to drop off the first just because box this week.

Thoughts go out to you, old friend. Again, you are remembered and you are missed. 1 year ago