"We have some more bad news..." She began.
My aunt's husband passed away this morning. It was sudden and unexpected. Keith had been battling heart problems for years and had undergone multiple surgeries, leaving the family thinking he was in good enough condition to live many more years. He collapsed this morning and never recovered.
I cried when my mom told me. She was at the hospital with my aunt and was very worried to tell me the news for many reasons. One, the sudden shock of Keith's passing is so similar to the sudden shock of Mike's passing. Two, today marks 11 months without Mike and everyone in my family knows that we struggle on every 29th. Three, visiting my aunt's house would inevitably be a terrible flashback to my own self just 11 months ago.
But it didn't matter--I was compelled to go hug my aunt, to help clean and cook and whatever else I could because she did the same for me the day Mike left. So I spent the morning trying to mentally prepare myself. Epic fail.
The first time we visited my aunt today, when she made eye contact with me, she just lost it all over again and so did I. I kept telling her how sorry I am. She kept repeating what I did that terrible day last December, "I don't know what to do."
"You're going to figure it out. You're going to find that there are going to be people coming out of the woodwork to help you. To pray for you. Who care and love you and some of them you won't even know. It's gonna suck and every day is gonna be hard. And it's never gonna get easier because Keith is always gonna be gone. But you will do it because you have to. You will suffer through it and you will fight to survive. But you will and you will surprise yourself. And even all the love you'll get from people that will bring you comfort and peace, some days just won't mean shit because it's not from Keith. But you're gonna be ok. Never the same, but ok."
I watched my Aunt Rosemary struggle to breathe through the cries. I watched family and friends come to hug her, many of whom also came to me and hugged me, asking if I was doing ok. I just shrugged and turned quickly to clean something in the kitchen.
My cousin Jessica helped me clean and prepare a turkey for the oven and she and several other cousins helped us carry things downstairs for my aunt so that there would be room for food and visitors. At one point as Jessica and I were at the sink, she looked at me and said, "I know this is hard. Today is 11 months isn't it?"
I nodded with tear filled eyes and she hugged me. We went right back to cleaning but my hands shook the entire time.
Conner and I made it through the first visit ok today and came home to decorate a Christmas tree, which was my original plan this morning. We rested a while and then this evening my sister and niece came down to bring homemade chicken and noodles so Conner and I returned to my aunt's to check on the turkey I placed in the oven earlier.
This second visit was harder on me and Conner than the first. But let me tell you something about our visit that brought both sad and proud tears all evening.
My 11 year old son stood and talked and acted like a man this evening for my aunt. I watched him do things he did for me the night his dad passed away. I was so proud of him that night and tonight was the same pride.
He got a cold wet dishcloth for my aunt. He did the same for me last December. He told her more than once that it is gonna be ok, that it will be hard but she will get stronger every day. He still tells me that. He brought over a trash can when my aunt thought she might get sick. He retrieved her Pepsi when she needed a drink. He was such a grown up.
Everyone who was there, including my sister, watched in awe of this little boy, who even though sometimes is such a brat, moved every person's soul with his kindness and love. And he is my son. He is Mike's and my legacy. And there is not one accomplishment in my life of which I will ever be more proud than being Conner's mom.
I sat at a distance and watched with tears rolling down my face. Sometimes my sister and I, or my niece and I, would make eye contact and we all just could not believe here were all are again, 11 months later to the day, watching a remake of this terrible tragedy that plays through our minds all the time. And this little boy who looks more like a man every day, was somehow holding it all together.
I couldn't take it much longer because it was all too reminiscent, so Conner and I left without even hugging anyone but my aunt. I was about to lose it so I had to get out of there. As soon as Conner and I made it into our vehicle, we both lost it. I held onto my little boy and we cried together. We drove home in silence. Just holding each other's hand.
Much of life these days is exhausting. We pray for strength to survive it every day. Today we added my aunt and her family to our prayers. I can't believe another widow has entered this crappy club.
I hope you and Keith are sharing laughs tonight baby. I love you and miss you beyond any measure of this world.
NFAxI...
#stillhis
Love,
Veronica
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