I wish that I could ignore tomorrow… pretend it is just any other day like pretty much everyone I know will do. With the passing of every day, month, year, you would think that this day wouldn’t loom so much on the horizon. And while it is definitely true that my thoughts are not consumed by Mark in the same way they used to be, he’s always there, especially in the dreaded month of November. I HATE that this month sucks for our family. HATE it. Because it’s the month that I became a mother… my beautiful baby girl was born in November. I try SO hard to make it special for her because I know she recognizes the difficulty that comes with November.
And so here it is… tomorrow it will be 4 years from the time my life changed forever. To some that may sound dramatic, but that is what happened. I could never accurately put into words just how Mark’s death impacted me and our family. E said something to me the other night about how it’s different for me (meaning her losing a dad vs. me losing a husband) which is totally true. But she followed up with “you can get another husband” as if somehow it is possible to just switch out Mark for someone new. A replacement. And if/when I ever find another love in this lifetime, he will not replace Mark. Because nobody could ever push him out of the space he is still occupying in my heart.
I wish people could know the impact they have on others while they are here on Earth. Mark and I grew into adulthood together. We shaped one another. And even with him gone, I know that he is still there, like that little angel/devil sitting on my shoulder: warning me, guiding me, loving me. It is no replacement for the real deal… God, what I wouldn’t give to have him back. To have my old life back. The one where my kids had a dad, where we didn’t have conversations about “dying on purpose” and wondering how to tell new friends about your dad’s death. Mark’s death has had ripples that will continue for the rest. of. ours. lives.
So four years ago I thought I was waking up to just another morning… just like I will do tomorrow morning, and have done just about every other morning of my ENTIRE LIFE. Except that morning was anything but “just another morning”… and that perspective, understanding just how precious “just another morning” is… appreciating every little bit of joy because I have seen the very bottom of despair… is the one good thing I am able to walk away with after life dealt me a devastating blow. CHOOSING to see the good; deciding to find joy again.
If anyone is still out there, reading this, I’d love to hear some Mark stories. As the years (God, years) pass, people talk less and less about Mark. Hearing that people still think of him and remember his goofiness with love brings me such joy. As always, prayers are appreciated… we are knee deep in what I refer to as “hell week” and knowing others are rooting for us brings some comfort. ❤