On the 20th of January you were gone for three years.
It still feels so surreal to me yet I know that you’re gone. I was incredibly emotional. I just found that for some reason I was really missing you but that I was also working through some serious anger at you. It was a friend’s baby’s first birthday party and Cliff had gone for a cycle in the morning so I had a lot to do and get sorted out before we had to leave for the party on my own but I woke feeling disgruntled and “off”. I did what needed to be done and loved on my little boy, but I was disgruntled and “off”. I found myself staring at the photo of you on my wall while feeding Kade his breakfast and was surprised to be close to tears.
I couldn’t understand why. It’s been three years for gosh sakes. A LOT has happened since you passed away. Why now all of a sudden would it be hitting me so hard? I guess now that I’ve had some time to reflect on the way I was feeling that day, it boils down to the fact that there I was getting my family ready to celebrate a “new” life all the while remembering the day you died.
The rollercoaster of *that* day three years ago – being called so early in the morning to say you’d take a turn for the worst. The next call to say you’d stabilised and were joking with the nurses, followed too soon by the news that you had left us. Perhaps with time, the feelings that I’d pushed down at the time of your death are finding a way of working themselves out of my emotional well.
Know this, some days I still miss you so much it hurts, but most days I think of you with a fondness that comes from the love we shared. Some days I think of the bad times and I hate what you did with a force that rocks me, but most days the anger doesn’t have the strength to surface.
Know this. Everyday I still love you and I always will.