It's funny. Not in the laugh until you cry way but more of the "hmmm, interesting" way. When you were still here with us there were so many things that you did each day. So many little touches that demonstrated your love for me, for our boys and for this life we created. Some were noticed and some weren't.
Until you didn't walk back through our front door.
Things like putting gas in my car because you knew my aversion to something as disgusting as a gas pump handle. Or taking the garbage to the curb on trash days. Or finding a treasure during spring clean up and bringing it home to fix up with the boys. Or bringing a vision to life from power wheel go karts to a garden you would have to tend because your wife only has the gene that kills plants. Changing the oil in the vehicles, replacing the filter on the water system, knowing which wires go where on a VW Rabbit or a Toyota pickup and on and on.
There were other things - less tasky, checklist things too. Like a hug that could literally reverse a bad mood as it stopped the incessant noise in my head. Driving to town to get coffee because you knew it was my love language. Watching car shows with the boys and dreaming about cross country road trips to find old gems to restore. Building tables or desks or trim. Being able to fix anything, seriously.
Family walks or boat rides. Catching sunsets because they brought me joy. Low tide beach combing and salmon fishing. You told Dad jokes galore. God I miss your laugh and your smile. You were the best splinter puller and bandaid applier. You were our calm when the world seemed to be spinning too fast. You smelled like home.
Talking in past tense hurts so much because a part of my brain and my heart and my soul really, really want this to be a horrible bad dream. You know those ones where you are sure you are falling and falling until you snap awake right before you hit the ground. The other parts of me know that the 78 days since you left are real and fucking unfair. So some days I speak in past tense with tears rolling down my face and others when it is just too much I don't. I let myself pretend you ran to town for that coffee we loved.
I miss you so much. In big, heart is breaking ways. In, it wasn't supposed to be this way, ways. In, why did this happen ways. In, we weren't done with our life, ways. In, our boys have been robbed of life with their dad, ways.
I miss you in all the little ways too. The forehead kisses. The eye rolls. The "we've got to get there first"s. The WTF mutters under your breath. The hand holds and dreaming. The stern looks and pep talks. The pride and happiness of being a Dad. The way you cared about "that damn dog" whom you secretly loved deeply.
Being grateful is a hard task in this season but one thing that keeps playing over and over in my head is that I'm so freaking glad I went to that bonfire so long ago and met a boy who would become the man who made me whole. I am fortunate to be able to say that we were committed to working at making our marriage and our family the forever kind of love. I am so thankful for the time we did have and for the life we created and for the boys/young men we are raising. I will not ever stop saying your name or making sure you live on in our hearts and memories.
Until we meet again. xoxoxoxo Sarah
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