Two years ago

Two years ago Brian and I invited a bunch of our Jewish friends to join us for a movie and Chinese food.  We saw Les Miserables and went out for one of the worst Chinese meals ever.  We didn't imagine that it would be our last time sharing in that tradition.  We didn't know that it would be the last movie he ever saw, or that it would be the last time we went out for a meal together.  We had no idea that just a few days later he would become very sick or that just two weeks later the doctor would tell me that he was dying.

All we knew then was that we were in love, and that we were sharing a fun day with friends.  We were looking forward to 2013, and expecting to share a wonderful new year.  We were so blissfully unaware of what was about to happen, and that that day was more of an ending than a beginning.

Two years later and I'm still struggling with this new normal.  I have many good things in my life.  I have great friends, and meaningful relationships.  I have newly found strength and gratitude.  Still, I struggle with my losses.

I'm grateful for the memories.  I'm grateful for so much.  But my losses are still so real.

Today we saw Imitation Game and ate at one of Brian's favorite restaurants.  He would have loved the movie.  He would have loved sharing the day with our friends.  I loved the movie.  I loved being with people I love, but I still can't fathom how that wonderful group that I spent the day with didn't include him.  In just a few days it will be two years sine we knew he was really sick.  In just a few weeks it will be two years sine he left our home for the last time.  Two years since the doctor told me he was dying. Two years since I told Brian he was dying.  Two years since a parade of horror, bad luck, and pain.

Time doesn't heal all wounds.  Time adds new perspective.  It let's the raw edges smooth.  It let's the shock wear off.  It lets reality set in.  Time makes room for laughter and love to return.  It allows the most broken of hearts feel again.  But no amount of time can erase the loss or make the pain OK.

Today wasn't a bad day.  Today wasn't drenched in sorrow, but the loss was with me all day.  A loss that I am learning to live with despite the fact that I will never be comfortable in it.

The gift of love

Thursday should have been Brian's 50th birthday.  I expected the day to be difficult.  I didn't expect it to be as difficult and painful as it was.  It hurt.  On a day when we should have been celebrating life, I was thrown back into all sorts of memories of his death.  While it seems like it shouldn't have been so, the anniversary of his birth was even harder than the anniversary of his death.

When the pain of memory became crushing, I was rescued by friends and people that I love.  A very select few knew exactly how to reach out, and one knew exactly what to say and do to help me turn away from the pain of death and back towards the joy of life.

There are parts of me that will never recover from Brian's death.  There are memories of his dying that will always haunt me.  But I know what Brian wanted for me.  He wanted me to live, to be happy, to laugh, and to love again; and while a year ago these things seemed impossible, I know that despite the loss I can live and love.  I know now that I must love in order to live, and despite the fact that I will never stop loving Brian, I have it in me to give and accept love from someone else.  I also know that while I often feel weak and cowardly inside, it is a thing of courage to open my heart to love again when it can lead to more loss.

I loved Brian totally and completely.  Our years together were so happy.  Our relationship was such a gift.  Without love life is a compromise.  I don't want that.  I want to live life to its fullest.  I want my life to have meaning.

Thursday was an unbelievably hard day, but by Thursday night I knew that love would save me and allow me to experience happiness again.  The gift of Brian's love let me know how wonderful life can be.  It will be the gift of another that let's me experience that wonder and joy once more.