Wednesday, September 16, 2015

More Firsts...

Well, what I wrote of dreading a few weeks ago, has arrived.

Gigging season is upon us. Deer season will soon follow. Then Halloween, followed by Thanksgiving, then Christmas, then the one year mark.

All of these will be followed by the day we are supposed to be making New Year's resolutions, but our New Year's Day will mark one year since we sat at the cemetery on a very cold and windy day, watching Marines fold a flag, so that the love of my life could be lowered into the cold earth.

They are all ridiculous reminders of the worst time of our lives.

One thing that I hate about gigging and deer seasons is that I feel like Conner and I will be a burden to others.  I know it's probably ludicrous, but, here is why.  We always had Mike to take us.  We always had Mike to get everything ready from making sure the generator was full of gas, to the gigging lights being bright enough and on correctly.  He always made sure he got all of our hunting and fishing licenses and tags well in advance.  He always made gigging and hunting fun.  Now we don't have him. So, we will call someone to take us.  We will call our friends to ask if they have room in their boat for two more.  We will call someone if we harvest a deer. We will rely on someone else. As we have been doing for the past several months.

So, I literally got sick to my stomach today at some professional development when I realized gigging season has opened.

It is just the start to the huge snowball that is building to roll us into the worst two days we cannot forget.

I remember when Conner was young and how excited I was to take my baby trick-or-treating.  Mike went every year but two due to conferences.  Conner would get all dressed up and loved showing his daddy how cool his newest costume was.  I loved walking the streets of town with my husband and son. Tristan always went with his cousins on his mom's side of the family, so we never had all four of us, but we still made it the most fun we could.  Wanna know what my son wants to dress up as this year?  A Marine.  Like his dad was all those years ago and like Conner wants to be the second he is old enough.  It's a good thing I have another 7 years to wrap my mind around it!

But, can you see the happiness in both their faces?  It radiated from them both every day.


I just don't know how I'm going to make it through all of these upcoming seasons and holidays and maintain my sanity.  How am I NOT going to see Mike everywhere?  How am I NOT going to break down and cry at the drop of a hat?

I don't know if I have the strength.  I don't know how it will all unfold.  I dread every little bit of it all. Like something as simple as wearing some of Mike's hunting clothes like I do every year.  This year wearing them will be different.  It will be difficult.

Enjoying our time gigging or hunting, sharing meals for Thanksgiving, buying gifts for Christmas.  I am afraid I will find no joy in them. I am afraid my little boy will find no joy in them.

I am scared to death that December 29 will be a repeat of the day we lost him and that those memories, those tiny details that I still remember like they just happened seconds ago, will replay over and over and over again.  I cannot get them out of my mind.

I cannot un-see him laying there on that cold metal table, with his left arm uncovered so that his wife, his widow, could hold it.  I cannot un-see the old barnwood casket that I chose for him to be laid to rest it, or the farm scene that was embroidered on the interior cloth.  I cannot un-see the looks on visitors' faces when they walked into our home, most of them for the first time ever.  I cannot un-see the looks of pity and sorrow.  I cannot un-hear the words of a man on Mike's phone telling me my husband had passed away.  I cannot un-tell my little boy that his daddy is gone and I cannot un-see Conner fall to the gravel beside me, where I already was on my knees.

None of this is ever going to go away.  Ever.  And I'm so tired of reliving it every.single.day.  And fall and winter make those memories more vivid.  My heart has begun skipping beats again; my hands have begun shaking again; my sleep pattern has become more sporadic again.  All because I know the day is coming when he will have been gone for one full year and it does not seem possible. But it is.

I miss you and love you still baby, beyond measure.  I hope that Heaven is better than we ever imagined and that you cannot know the pain we feel without you.  You were our world.

But we will see you again some day and that is what keeps us going.

NFAxI... #stillhis
Love,
Veronica


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