The title of this post was taken from the song Make It Last by Stroke 9.
I sit staring at it, the curser on the screen. One blink, two, then ten, I've lost count but I know I've been sitting here for awhile. The curser blinks at me saying "write something, type something, do something." I just stare at it. I no longer know what to say. I no longer know that I have a voice for the part of me I've lost. I don't know if I can continue to try to put into words all the crazy things that go through my head. The curser continues to blink. I pick up a pencil instead, maybe my words will flow through a different medium...no luck. All I get are little squiggles and lines. I stare at his picture instead. It's the one of him on the 4th of July a few years ago. He's sitting in a chair wearing his work hat, and his Imperial Domination shirt. What gets me about this picture is the smile on his face. It's just a small one, his lips barely curve up, but it's enough to see the sparkle in his eye, and to know that in that very moment he was happy. In that moment forever captured in time he was happy. I have this same picture on my desk at work. I can't look at it too long during the day or I'll cry. On a sticky note above that picture is a quote from someone I know who recently lost their wife, it says "It's the pain of a separation we're dealing with, and the hope of a reunion that encourages us to be obedient and faithful." I love this quote.
I find that I hate the warmer weather. I hate the thought of spring. I hate the patches of grass that are growing longer, knowing that I'll have to mow the lawn soon. I'm preparing myself for next month when it will mark one year since his passing, but I didn't expect to hate spring. I didn't expect the warm nights to make me lonely again. Once the kids go to bed all I want to do is sit on the front porch, but it brings back so many memories that it's overwhelming. I hate that I no longer find joy in so many things. I hate that I feel guilty when I am happy. I hate that nagging little voice in the back of my head that screams "You shouldn't be happy YOUR HUSBAND IS DEAD!" I hate when I look at the kids and realize all the things they will never have their dad there for. I hate how angry that makes me, and then I hate being angry.