July is a tough month for me. It’s the anniversary of our independence day in America. It is my son Austin’s birthday month, but I don’t know where he is. Haven’t heard from him in almost 4 years now and that’s hard…but that’s subject of another post someday. July is also the month when Mike was born. July is also the month when Mike was first diagnosed—with death, aka pancreatic cancer.
Our wedding anniversary is in July and my mother’s birthday is was in July.
It’s a curious thing that this month has so much weight, so much importance to me yet no one outside of ME knows it. I wonder if it shows…how this month hurts. I wonder if it shows that this month is significant but I keep it to myself because it seems to me that its only significant to me so why bring it up? If I mention it at all, its with disconnection…I tick off the days one after the other as if they happened to someone else and I’m merely relaying a story that belongs to someone else. No emotion, no feeling, no thoughts about the dates because they are only significant to me. Besides, no one really cares about what used to be my life.
When August begins I breathe a sigh of relief and give thanks that I got through what I know is a tough month. I also think, all I have to get through in August is the day of my dad’s death which was two days before his birthday. I can handle that!
I’m finding myself thinking about Mike a lot more often these days. I wonder if he’s looking down on me from Heaven and just shaking his head and the stupid things I’ve done since he died. I wonder where my son is and I wonder if he’ll ever come back. I think about my mother too but not much as she had a tendency to be mean. I understand what may have caused that meanness…her parents sending her to boarding school when she was young and never letting her come home, her parents caring more about her brother than her…she was misunderstood and it turned to anger and bitterness. But I get that, I guess. I wonder if she’s found peace and quiet and acceptance in Heaven where I know she is today.
I have found myself talking to Mike…in my head…more now than I have ever done before. I still miss him very much to this very day. I miss that one person that knew me so well–maybe even better than I knew myself. I miss that person that loved me completely, faults and all, and loved me in spite of them or because of them.
I miss my best friend. I miss my champion. I miss my husband. I miss him, still. Even now I miss him. But its been too long to talk about anymore. Its been too long for it to be a matter of fact of my life. Its been too long for most people. But it feels like yesterday some days.
Its been long enough that it is a private affair now, between me, God and Mike. No one knows what I mean unless they’ve been through it, are in it and that’s alright with me, sort of. But it does give me a sense of extreme loneliness sometimes that I live in a world of what could have been, what should have been and what isn’t…and that hurts.