Archive for March 2015

Always there

Dawn’s been coming up a lot the last few days. I don’t know if she has something to say or if it’s just all coincidental, but it is nice to see. Not all of it is rosy, as those things that remind us of her inevitably make us sad and that’s really been no different this time. A few days ago I remarked online about how much the boys like dessert, which is something they got from their mom. She was always about dessert, probably because she was raised in a family who always made time for dessert, and it’s neat to see the boys ask almost every night if they can have dessert. I don’t let them have it every night, but I smile a bit every time they ask.

More than that, little things have come up that take a moment then go away. It’s a quick text with some mention of her or something she shared with a friend or a reminder of the scrapbooks she so meticulously created. I have none of her creativity and I miss the things she used to make, but it’s comforting to know that the memories she so beautifully recorded created memories just from the work she did.

I still find myself thinking how much she’d like some of the new things that show up every day. I think she’d be a fan of Sam Smith. I think she’d like the show House of Cards. I think she’d have been sad when Mrs. Wolowitz died on The Big Bang Theory. She’d be so sick of the snow right now and finding any way she could to get us away from it for a few days. She’d be nursing her dog along through the autoimmune disorder that the vet is powerless to cure.

She’d love the three new kids in my life at least as much as I do.

I even write this with sadness in my heart. I still miss her greatly but I’m such a better person because of the short time I spent with her. If there’s any silver lining from her passing for me specifically, it’s that it made me a better man and a better father. It made me more responsible and more tolerant of things I deal with every day. It made me realize that life is better than many people think it is.

I still have my hiccups and I put a lot of faith in the idea that her spirit follows us everywhere we go and in everything we do. I don’t write as much anymore but that’s probably because I started to get myself back. I’m grateful for what my life has become because it could’ve beaten me after that. It still hurts but I’m much better equipped to manage that pain and it comes much less frequently now. I want to live my life in a way that is respectful of her memory without being crippled by her loss.

I’m still learning.