Supposed?

It's been 37.5 months since Brian died; 40 months since the doctor told me he would die. I'm supposed to be ok with this new "chapter" now. The pain is supposed to be a thing of the past.

Who made this declaration about how I'm "supposed" to be? Not me. Probably not anyone who watched their 48 year old husband die. Certainly not someone who watched their 28 year old husband die. Probably not even someone who watched their 78 year old husband die. I don't think that anyone who watched their spouse die would tell someone else how their grief is supposed to feel.

Want to piss me off? Tell me to move on. Tell me to get over it. Tell me not to live in the past.

Clearly, I'm not living in the past with Brian! Clearly I have moved on. And that's the problem! I'm living in this new reality that I hate. My happy reality ended when I was told that my husband would die of a rare cancer that we couldn't fight. I was told that without chemo he could live for nine months. I was told that with chemo he could live two or three years. Neither of those things happened. He died three and a half months later. He died without ever coming back home. He died without ever again feeling the sun on his face. He died without ever enjoying another real meal. Without ever again petting his cat or walking his dog. He died without sleeping another night in his own bed. He died without ever dancing with me again. He died without enjoying the things that he had previously enjoyed.

I have moved on. I am still alive. I held him as he took his last breath. I held our cat as he took his last breath. I held our dog as she took her last breath. I packed up our things by myself and sold our home.

I'm still here. I'm still alive. I live in my new home with my new dog. I get up in the morning and go to my new job. A home, a dog and a job that he never knew.

I live in the present, and that is the problem. This is not what I ever imagined. Brian and I imagined growing old together. We planned to be that little old couple who held hands and kissed in public. We planned to be happy together.

That was my past. None of that exists in my present. I would love to live in the past, but I can't.

We were there for each other. We took care of each other. Nothing could have kept me from him those three and a half months that we were in the hospital or in hospice house. There was so little that I could do for him, but I wanted to do anything that I could for him. I'm grateful that I could do those things for him, though even as he died he did so much for me. He still took care of me.

I survived his death. I planned a memorial service for him. I planned a burial for his cremains. I designed and provided his grave stone. I needed to do all of that. The only thing that could have been right after that was for me to go to sleep and never wake up. It is so unfair that I am still here and he isn't.

I don't live in the past. I live in the present. I'm sad and lonely, and I have tried so hard to change that but I'm not able.