Hi Fight Like Mike followers:) It has been a while since I posted anything. I have been writing but life has been busy. We are doing well :) And I am grateful I dream of writing and posting more consistently. But I have not made it a priority. I feel like I should post something edited and perfect, so I stall because it never gets to that point. But I am trying to let go of that. Life is not edited and perfect and so for now at this stage in my life, things are messy.
But here's to what came when I sat down today for the time I had. It is just honest messy grief. And if there is one truth I have learned, is that grief messy. For any of you living in the midst of grief. You are not alone.
It can be both so sad and full of joy. And Both are true. I am with you.
I just got to the office.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do this morning.
But I kept being pulled to come here
and sit still and write.
At the office.
And there you were.
as I sat down.
The cardinal you
Landed on the windowsill.
That has not happened yet.
I feel you today.
Your dad just sent a picture of you
On the feeder
At the camp.
It must be amazing to
To be Weightless
From pain and suffering.
To fly free.
To be close to me
To your dad,
To all of us.
at the same time.
To be free.
Man, I have missed you.
I miss you at Talladega.
I miss you on Sundays.
Especially on a Sunday drive.
I was slightly hungover.
With a margarita headache.
And being hungover
Was more fun with you.
Now I just feel guilty
I talked to Ginny about that this week.
She reminded me that in that state of mind
All things seem hard and wrong.
But all things are not all bad or hard.
And she is right.
I have so many things to be grateful for.
But man do I miss you
on a Sunday morning drive,
We shared some really good ones.
Together- me and you-
we had become,
easy like Sunday morning.
We had found that
You were that,
Sunday morning ease.
Being me was easy, with you.
I miss that ease,
like a recovering addict must miss drugs.
I am stronger.
I feel more at peace.
3 years have brought more peace
in my heart.
I won’t deny that,
Because that is true.
But it is also true.
That I am sad
And miss you.
And both are ok.
I want to snuggle into your chest at night.
I want to fall asleep with your arm around me.
And feel the comfort and peace
I miss that.
Will I ever stop missing that?
Cancer gifted our connection,
a grounded surge of power.
I also told Ginny that Sunday night
that broken connection
Shocked me again.
And the longing
for you came back
With a vengeance.
We always had only 1 or 2,
if any, throw pillows on our bed.
I still have the same two pillows.
One of them, I won’t get rid of.
Strangely after you died,
I noticed the 1929 on one of them.
It was a random pillow I bought at home goods.
No real attachment until now,
Where the 29 makes me wonder about fate.
But the pillow took me back to our nights together.
Where you would get in bed before me.
You would nicely and precisely, with thoughtfulness
take the pillows off the bed.
You would then slide them in between
the bed and the nightstand.
It was just enough space to hold them.
How did you even think to put them there?
You perfectly tucked the throw pillows.
Sunday, I was taken transported back
to this habit of yours.
One I probably took for granted
Or rolled my eyes at.
As I would throw them on the floor with no thought,
On the nights I went to bed first.
But now, I find myself tucking them in,
to the secret spot you found for them.
If I had to guess, you placed them there because
It was a spot you where would not trip over them.
Suddenly, the shock,
from a severed connection
Made me want you back,
Purposefully taking the pillows off the bed for us.
What a gift it is to know,
With such ease.
That when they are gone.
You can still imagine the ways
they went about their days.
I can still feel you and
all the things that made you,
Our love was a gift.
You were a gift
That I carry in my heart
Every where I go
And I miss you.
But I am stronger.
And I want you to know that.
I will always miss you tucking in the pillows.
I will away miss burying my head into your chest.
I will always miss Sunday morning drives.
I will always miss being hungover with you.
I will always miss the ease.
Of our connection.
But I feel that surged electrical line is repaired.
When I am still
Sitting in this chair
At grandpas desk.
And you land on the windowsill.
Our connection is not the one I dreamed of
for our lifetime of Sunday morning drives together.
But it is alive and
there is still power,
A forceful spirit,
Connecting us through
this thin veil between heaven and earth.
And I am learning to surrender
To God’s connection for us.
I love you 29, snookie.