September 12, 2016


I had it on my heart all week that I'd need to write something Saturday.

I had a million thoughts about it, cried a lot, wondered how I would fit five years of my life, three years of a date having significance, and a year and a half of difficult separation into words.

In the end, as you can see ... I just let it go. No special post, no essay of deep thoughts and reflections on life and love and loss.

Part of it was that I can't say what I'd really love to finally unburden my heart with, because I know he's still reading this, though I'm not quite sure why - my ever-hopeful heart wants to believe that even though he never knew how to express it, there's some part of him that always cared how I'm doing (and that still does) ... but my experienced and logical brain tells me it's more likely been surveillance to make a report to a lawyer. Either way, I'm forced to keep quiet about the biggest things I've struggled with over the course of my relationship with him - the things I recall and grieve anew on anniversaries and holidays.

And part of it was just not wanting to subject myself to the emotional mess I become when I rehash this stuff. I wanted it to be Just A Day, not a special one, just a normal, average, boring day, like it had always been before.

My son and I woke up early, had a good breakfast, and headed to the park. We walked 2K, then I let him run around on the playground for a while. He was very curious about the kids playing soccer on an adjacent field, which is good - he starts soccer in our town this upcoming weekend. We went grocery shopping - just needed fresh produce, really - then went home and cooked up a nice healthy frittata for lunch. After, we went in the pool for a while, had chicken and veggies for dinner, and read a few of his favorite books and magazines. A few video calls from family (but none from his father, not surprised), then early to bed - after my issues with insomnia all throughout the previous week, I'm amazed that I fell asleep so quickly.

Or maybe not amazed, really. Dreading the anniversary kept me up at night; once it was all over, once I succeeded at making it Just A Day and not a source of anxiety or sadness, sleep came easily.

And that was it. Everything was normal - our new normal, like it or not. And the next day, I woke up again, and continued to make good choices - not triggered or upset by the ghost of those painful memories. It's the first time in a while I've made consistently good choices over a weekend, which is really saying something. My recovery is not linear, but there is definitely progress happening. This is the proof.