What a great title to follow the Thanksgiving post! But I assure you that this will not be all about the food I ate on Thanksgiving. Instead, it is about the seconds of everything as time inches ever so closely to that second year mark without my husband.
It is hard to believe that it was two years ago this time of year when I started to notice that things were just not right with him, with us. Things were just so off. Looking back, his mental health had been on a decline, but for some reason it was at this time two years ago that it began to take a more drastic and noticable dive. Hindsight is 20-20 they say though, and with good reason. He was so good at hiding his deep troubles that all I was able to see was his coping mechanisms that were far from positive or healthy. These coping mechanisms, that were established and engrained at an early age, were detrimental to not only his health, but to our relationship. As with everything else, it is hard to believe that it has been already two years since things started to slowly come undone. At the same time, it seems as if it has been forever... forever since I have seen him.
Seconds... We made it through our second Father's Day, Anniversary, Birthday (his and my son's), Halloween... various other smaller holidays, vacations, and now Thanksgiving. In the 8 years of our marriage, we spend 7 of those Thanksgiving together. Out of those 7, we spent 4 by ourselves. Whether it was just the two of us, or a small family gathering, he always made the feast. He loved to make pies. He made the turkey. He made homemade apple sauce. Thanksgiving was his thing and he was very good at it. Last year, I spent Thanksgiving at home with my son and two aunts. I made the Thanksgiving dinner and as I did, I thought of my husband and tried to make everything like him. Although extremely sad and difficult, it made me feel like he was still with us. This year, I spent Thanksgiving with my parents and everything was done. I traveled 8 hours on Thanksgiving morning, so I wasn't able to help out with the dinner. Those 8 hours though provided time for many thoughts to pass through. I had a few moments of tears and sadness. But, spending the holiday with so many other people made for a big destraction. I was actually thankful for that quiet time in the car.
I have to admit though that the holidays do not strike a painstaking chord like it does for so many others who have lost a loved one. To me, a holiday is just a day, one day. It is all the time in between that I find to be so much harder. It's all the little things that happen either on a day to day basis or spontaneously that I miss sharing with him. Yes, the birthdays and holidays are difficult, but I think that's just because memories are more prominent. I would trade all those days to get back the "regular" ones. That is not how life works though, does it? Instead, my son and I will continue on our journey of seconds.
It is hard to believe that it was two years ago this time of year when I started to notice that things were just not right with him, with us. Things were just so off. Looking back, his mental health had been on a decline, but for some reason it was at this time two years ago that it began to take a more drastic and noticable dive. Hindsight is 20-20 they say though, and with good reason. He was so good at hiding his deep troubles that all I was able to see was his coping mechanisms that were far from positive or healthy. These coping mechanisms, that were established and engrained at an early age, were detrimental to not only his health, but to our relationship. As with everything else, it is hard to believe that it has been already two years since things started to slowly come undone. At the same time, it seems as if it has been forever... forever since I have seen him.
Seconds... We made it through our second Father's Day, Anniversary, Birthday (his and my son's), Halloween... various other smaller holidays, vacations, and now Thanksgiving. In the 8 years of our marriage, we spend 7 of those Thanksgiving together. Out of those 7, we spent 4 by ourselves. Whether it was just the two of us, or a small family gathering, he always made the feast. He loved to make pies. He made the turkey. He made homemade apple sauce. Thanksgiving was his thing and he was very good at it. Last year, I spent Thanksgiving at home with my son and two aunts. I made the Thanksgiving dinner and as I did, I thought of my husband and tried to make everything like him. Although extremely sad and difficult, it made me feel like he was still with us. This year, I spent Thanksgiving with my parents and everything was done. I traveled 8 hours on Thanksgiving morning, so I wasn't able to help out with the dinner. Those 8 hours though provided time for many thoughts to pass through. I had a few moments of tears and sadness. But, spending the holiday with so many other people made for a big destraction. I was actually thankful for that quiet time in the car.
I have to admit though that the holidays do not strike a painstaking chord like it does for so many others who have lost a loved one. To me, a holiday is just a day, one day. It is all the time in between that I find to be so much harder. It's all the little things that happen either on a day to day basis or spontaneously that I miss sharing with him. Yes, the birthdays and holidays are difficult, but I think that's just because memories are more prominent. I would trade all those days to get back the "regular" ones. That is not how life works though, does it? Instead, my son and I will continue on our journey of seconds.
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