10 Months In.

I’m not sure where I left off with my writing.

Right now I feel uncertain and cautious.

I know the next 2 months will suck. I’m already reliving the times I texted Derek and saw him leading up to November 13. I remember being on maternity leave through mid-October and seeing him twice at Mom and Dad’s for lunch. He got to see Shea and Ari. I got to talk to him. It was so nice. He was so ALIVE and so seemingly HEALTHY. Even that nagging cough he had for weeks wasn’t really even present. We didn’t even talk about it. This is what makes it all so much more difficult to accept. That he was staring death in the face and he didn’t even know it.

Last year, celebrating Mom and Dad’s 70’s birthdays was so important to us. The
“70 things” list we created for them was so special. I’m so glad Derek was able to partake in that by telling Mom and Dad what he loved most about them. It’s not everyday you say those things to people. He was able to tell them before he died. Truly, how God works in mysterious ways.

This year, going to Horse Thief for lunch was something I felt I had to do in order to sort of honor Derek in a weird way. And being sat at the same exact table as we were last year for Mom’s birthday was a sign that Derek was there with us. Chatting about football. Enjoying the drinks. Having a good time. We miss him so much.

In a way, I can’t wait for the first year to pass. I hope it passes quickly. I still can’t believe it’s been 10 months. Feels like 10 years. I can’t believe the fall is right around the corner, and then winter. The months WITHOUT him will start…..and that’s when it’ll hurt even more.

One thing I’ll miss about it not being the first few months is my perspective. My perspective after Derek died in the months that followed was the way I want my perspective to be for the rest of my life. It was about family, about love, about peace, about caring for one another, no jealousy, no comparisons, no animosity, no judgements, no pettiness, no pride, no arguments. How quickly that changes when you go back to life as you know it. But the reality is that life isn’t the way I knew it. My life has changed so drastically over the last 10 months. I need to live the life I was handed. And that means I mustn’t give in to the life that leads me to those things I mentioned.

I’ve always prayed to God so that I may do His will for me. Thy Will Be Done (Our Father). To present His will to me. Please dear Lord, show me what you want me to do with my life. I’d pray that over and over again.

We know the trees but God knows the forest.

God knew Derek was going to die. God knew our lives would be forever changed. Now that 10 months have passed, I’m wondering if I’m doing God’s will by sharing Derek’s story. It could be part of it. I do know that loving my children unceasingly is absolutely God’s will for me. I need them just as much as they need me right now.

My head is all over the place. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. Trying to keep busy with tasks. Being “normal” again for what it’s worth. But I’ll never be normal. I’ll never be able to do anything without thinking of Derek. Every single day I think about him down to every hour almost. Still thinking about his condition and how he was essentially dying last year those handful of times I saw him. I would text him pictures of Shea and he would always respond with, “how cute” or “is she sleeping through the night yet?” He was dying inside and still supportive of me. His body was shutting down and he still responded to my many texts about MY children. How selfless he was toward me.

I hate those phrases people use after someone close has died. This “life lesson” has “humbled” me to “do good” and “live out his legacy.” It all sounds great in theory, but it takes a long time to get to that point. It’s not something that just switches in your head to do overnight. Even if it does and then switches back, that’s how grief operates.

I still can’t tell Derek’s story without crying. I’m still trying to make sense of it all. He was here and then he vanished. It’s the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. And it’s only been 10 months. Feeling like 10 years, what will 10 years feel like? 20 years? 30 years? 40 years? 50 years? I was just telling Mike the other day how he could’ve lived another FIFTY (50) years. That’s a really, really long time. For those years to be taken from him is purely unfathomable. For him to be gone like this is even more unfathomable.

I sometimes feel guilty feeling this way. Selfish feeling. But the logical side of me knows that’s totally false, and given the circumstances, I’m pretty darn good for it only being 10 months in. Tomorrow is September 11. I remember exactly what I was doing on this date in 2001. Same with November 13. I’ll never forget those details until the day I die. Survivors of 9/11 have to feel the same way. I can now completely understand how they feel on this day. I can understand how people feel on Memorial Day. I’ve never felt the amount of empathy as I do now. I will mourn on those days for those people who suddenly lost their family members just like I lost Derek on November 13. I wonder what 17 years really feels like to them?