2 Years …. Now What?

April 30, 2012

I survived.  2 years have passed since Chris died.  Even just writing that on “paper” brings up a lot of conflicting emotions and reactions.  On one hand it feels like forever ago, like another lifetime. In many ways it is a different lifetime, like it happened to a different person.  On the other hand, it feels like yesterday that we said goodbye for the last time.

Chris and I grabbing beers a few weeks after we started dating
Summer 2006

This year was a lot easier though.  Last year I made myself sick trying to mark the anniversary with a bbq and making all the special gestures.  This year, I made no special gestures other than wear clothes that reminded me of him.  I spent a quiet weekend with my parents trying to focus on the present. I can’t change the past.  I can’t bring Chris back with big, love focused gestures.  All I can do is make the most of my present. 

Today, I felt it a bit more than yesterday.  There was more anxiety and depression, distraction and dissociation.  It wasn’t like it has been.  It was just a feeling that said loudly “Holy Shit! It has been two years. What the Hell do I do now?”.  

I don’t have an answer.  I don’t think I ever will.  But maybe continually asking myself that question will take me somewhere interesting even if it isn’t very far.

Our Last Night Together

April 25, 2012

This night* two years ago, Chris and I spent our last night together. We had both had early dinner plans, I with a friend from work, he with the lacrosse team he coached.  We had talked about cancelling and just going home, but I am glad he got to see his kids one more time.

A shirtless Chris, napping on the couch

I beat him home and I remember being so impatient for him to get home.  Once he was home we did our standard cuddling on the couch watching tv, snuggled under a blanket.  I remember so vividly how we held each other and talked about how happy we were and how much we never wanted to be apart.  That we were meant to be together forever.  I asked him never to leave me and he said “Where would I go?”

We had no idea that was our last night together.  That as we lay there full of love and joy, he was dying.  He had less than 12 hours to live.  Dear God how can that be?

Even now I still cannot believe he is gone.  How could we be parted?  I know our last night together was a gift.  That God wanted us to be certain of the strength and joy of our love.  It is excrutiating to remember how happy we were and how much Chris loved me.  The loss is beyond words.


I love you.  I miss you every minute of everyday.  I can’t believe it has been two years since the last time we shared an evening and a bed.  How are you dead? I still do not understand.

All I know is that you live on in another form. That you haven’t really left me, just transformed. Energy can neither be created nor destroyed.

I will be beside you in time.

Your wife,



*The anniversary is techincally Saturday (28th), but Chris died on a Wednesday and in many ways I feel the anniversary is tomorrow


My sexy husband coaching basketball

Hi Baby,

I miss you so much.  March Madness has started and it is painful without you.  I am lonely.  I have hung out with friends, but I am lonely for you.

This was always something we looked forward to. I remember our first tournament together, when we were just friends.  We were watching

games in a bar and you could cut the sexual tension with  knife.  I wanted to be with you so badly. I loved you then.  You were handsome and smart, caring, selfless. 

I wish I could go back to that time.  I would give anything to have our relationship ahead of us instead of behind us. I wish I had pictures from that time, but I don’t.   I would relive our 5 years together over and over again until it was time for me to die too.

I love you so much baby.  You made me so happy. I knew  you did, but now that I have lost it, I can feel it so greatly.

I miss your enthusiasm for the games, filling out brackets, talking about the games, and making fun of me for yelling at refs.  Who is going to do that now?  And then take me to bed and hold me afterwards. 

I miss my best friend.  My partner in crime.

I love you. I love you. I love you.  A thousand times I love you.

When will be reunited so this wound can be healed?  Not soon enough.

Your wife,


Holidays Schmolidays

January 5, 2011

I survived. I am here.  The last few months have been so draining, starting with our anniversary October 17th, through my dad’s birthday, my niece’s birthday, Chris’s birthday, my mom’s birthday, Chris’s nephew and brothers birthday on top of Chris’s favorite holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years.  We use to call it our “busy season” now it feels like a season of doom.  I hadn’t realized until yesterday how much more stress all of these days added to my daily life, if you can call it that.  How much energy it sapped to be continually planning ways to get through these days and bear the weight of his absence. 

Waking up Saturday morning was hard.  To know that it was a year Chris will never be a part of was gut wrenching.  But I did it, the best I could and I am living to tell the tale.

Am I relieved?  Maybe. The past few days I have been feeling more fed up, tired of being miserable and in pain all the time.  The past few months have been so intense my body and soul is tired.  A different tired from how it was the first few months.  Now it is more weary than exhausted.  But yesterday between my support group and grief counselor I was feeling more inspired. I have been feeling more interested in making something of what I have.  I don’t know what it looks like, but the spark is struggling through.


It is Christmas and it is cold and dark.  I spent last night with your family and it made me so sad to know that they don’t get to have you for Christmas anymore, they don’t get to have me either, as I am not really me anymore. 

 We sat around the table that I remember from when we were first dating and I was so nervous and wanted them to like me. I kept expecting you to walk around the corner and sit next to me, kiss me and joke around with the rest of us.

I went to your grave today.  I don’t go as often as I should, or maybe I go to often.  I hate that you are there alone in the cold.  Every time I go I hate to leave you.  I know in spirit you aren’t there, but I am desperate to be close to you, and the body I loved the hands, eyes, hair, arms, back, feet are there.

I wander through my day seeking you out, but can’t find you.  I email you, I write you, I write here.  I talk to you, I listen to the old message I have that use to make me laugh but now makes me cry.  I walk around the house from room to room, touch your things, putting on your clothes, looking at pictures, avoiding pictures.  My urge to be with you is limitless, instinctual, and can never be satisfied.

How am I going to get through tomorrow and the day after.  My first Christmas without you.  We only got 4 Christmases together, two while dating, one engaged, one married. What is worse is all the Christmases we will never have.  We will never get to watch our little ones have their first Christmas and stay up late to build gifts for them.  It weighs so heavily on my heart; I don’t have the words to express it.

I wish I had something positive and uplifting to say, some wonderful Christmas message. But I don’t.  All I have is my undying love for you, my handsome husband, my sexy beast. 

I love you forever,


Chris napping with our first tree in 2008

A letter to my husband

December 1, 2010

This is a letter I started to write Chris to post on his birthday, and then I chickened out.   But emboldened by other bloggers’ courage, I am posting it. 

Hi Baby,

It is your birthday.  It has been over six months since you died.  I can’t believe you left me. 

It was one of the hardest mornings, not waking up next to you and being the first person to tell you Happy Birthday!  The house was quiet.  No sounds of your snoring, no sounds of your big feet padding across the floor (I really miss your feet, how strange, I never really thought about your feet before, but I miss them), no sounds of your coffee maker going off, no sounds of your sleepy voice telling me to stay in bed.  What a change from last year. 

I hate not being able to force you to celebrate your birthday. I hate not being able to fuss over you and give you gifts you treasure.  Last year I got you the compass watch you loved so much.  I hate living without you. It is the winter to our summer.

When I was in church today, where we had your funeral, I cried for the whole hour.  But I remembered a long ago conversation, where we talked abstractly about death.  I revealed my fear of it, the not knowing the nothingness.  You talked of your fear for leaving people behind.  As always, thinking of others above yourself.  You said that you didn’t want to leave the people you loved and wanted them to be taken care of, protected, and ok.  Well as I remembered that, I decided the best birthday gift I could give you is to be ok, or at least try to be ok.  

I love you with all my heart and just wish to be with you.

Your wife,