I sit here in our home writing this letter waiting for you to arrive, possibly ( hopefully) with dinner.
The cats sit by the door, waiting for you too.
There's a movie queued up for us to watch as we have done countless summer nights in the past 8 years.
I have some music going right now as I am putting together our wedding albums to go to print. I finished your mom's as I felt that one was most important and I am now working on my mom's as well.
I met with the counselor today. He didn't tell me anything new or or unusual. I am handling things as best I can and doing better than most and worse than some. I now have membership to an exclusive club who's membership I did not want nor ask for. He told me time would help things. The Post Traumatic Stress Disorder will, in time, go away. Hard to believe right now, but that's what he said. He also did not recommend any medication changes. That was harder to believe.
You know, baby, when we aren't together, I miss you terribly. I love that you text me all day at work, silly things, funny pics of our cats, what you are making for dinner, all that stuff. You make the days bearable when we are apart.
I know we danced our first dance to "I love you" and the last line is "If ever a man had it all, it would have to be me", but I think WE have it all.
Or we did.
Because, I know you aren't coming home. Dinner, if I eat at all, is going to be whatever I can dig up. Work is just something that fills the time and our home looks like superstorm sandy went through it.
I can't wake up in the mornings and I wake up in the middle of the night hearing you scream, cry and generally be as scared as a human being can. Every night. Whether I was home in our bed, or in the hospital sleeping in a chair.
At the moment this post goes up, you will have been dead 3 weeks. To the minute. I can't believe you are gone. I can't figure out how to breathe, I can't figure out how I am supposed to live the rest of my life without you. I don't understand any of this. I am just beside myself. I cry all the time. And I mean all the time. It's spontaneous. I keep dark glasses around on purpose.
I am told by our friend who lost his wife to the same cancer you had, it's like standing on the edge of a cliff. In time you learn to take a step backward away from the edge. But the first year is the hardest. And you fight not to make that jump or step over the edge. I spend every day consciously deciding on what to do with that.
As you said to me in the hospital, we lived a lifetime. We did. I know we did but I miss you so much and I just want you home. With me.
I know that had you survived, you would not have been the same man. I know the tumors changed you and I know that the cancer was too aggressive.
My brain understands it. Now Someone needs to explain it to my heart.
Imagine a plate. Drop the plate. Look at the broken pieces. Now. Apologize to the plate. Did the plate fix itself? No.
That's how my heart feels. And I ache for you.
I love you so much more than I ever thought I was capable of. You loved me so much more than I ever thought possible. I loved the way you loved me and I fought every minute for the best care out there for you. I have my own guilt that I should have done more and everyone thinks I"m nuts. How could I know? I'm not a doctor.
I don't believe that there is a hell in the afterlife. I never did.
I'm walking through it now, in this life.
I don't blame you and I'm not angry at you. You fought like a demon, taking your last day of radiation on the same day you drew your last breath with your mom and I at your side.
I will be writing private letters to you from now on. I needed this one to be public. Our relationship was written about, dreamed about, negotiated right here on this Blog, So this letter needed to be public to those people who stood by me then and I am hoping will stand by me now.
I feel blessed that I found the poem/lyrics you wrote for me. I read them every day. I have two people attempting to set them to music for you.
"Ian's
Song"
Seated
in anticipation
I'm
nervous
Where
the hell did that come from?!
Unfinished
thoughts catapult
like
toads boinging
from
one lily pad to the next and the next
with
no water beneath to absorb the bounce.
Who
was I?
Hell,
I hardly know who I am now
Amidst
the fray of job stress
Fighting
my way to the surface
To
breathe.
I'm
thinking that way back when
I
was better at just floating
Even
if it was in the darkness
Of
the night's lake that was my home.
You.
You
were my music.
In
you I found my song.
In
your song I found my voice.
In
your notes between the lines
My
poems joined in.
With
you singing, my heart found its beat.
I
could breathe. I could breathe. I could breathe.
So
here I am seated in anticipation
Nervous
Wondering
How
the hell to breathe.
Watching
my life bouncing on lily pads
Can't
see the bottom if I miss.
No
wonder I hate swimming.
It's
not 'til you walk in
And
I lock my arms around you
And
I kiss your beautiful face
And
we hold on tight
That
I know...maybe I know
It's
okay to be
Still.
Maybe
if I am still I'll remember I'll remember.
Maybe
if I am still I'll float again I'll float.
Maybe
in the I am stillness your notes will find me waiting
Maybe
in your breath's song I will find my light.
These are my darkest days and I am marking time until we can be together some day.
Missing you always, loving you forever.
Your love, your baby.
Me
