I have become accustomed to the roller coaster ride of grief. I've even been able to joke about it. But this weekend has been a new low I haven't seen, nor was it one I was expecting.
Last forth of July I was sick with the swine flu. And didn't get to spend it with Bryan. And the year before, I worked at the hospital. Extra shifts, because there was a sick kid in the unit, and who would take care of her if I didn't. And the year before, I worked extra shifts for the money. In all honesty, I don't know that I really ever spent Independence Day with him. Curled up in his arms, sitting on a blanket, watching the fireworks. I know it is something we always meant to do, just something we never did.
And then I let myself go even lower on the ride. I started thinking about all the regrets. The comfy underwear I wore instead of the sexy ones, the nights I feel asleep watching movies with Bryan, the times he called but I was on the other line, the times I just wanted a few minutes to myself. The little things I let annoy me. The list got too long to even remember.
And then, I went even lower. I started thinking about all the decisions we had made. That had I known how our life would have ended up, I would have made differently. I would never had worked nights for all those years, I would have encouraged him to follow his dreams and not worry about the steady paycheck, the nights we did our own thing, instead of spending them together. And that list got too long to even face.
I haven't felt that low, or that alone in a long time. And I think what made it hardest for me, was the fact there was really no one there. I have been doing so well for the last few months, that I don't think anyone wanted to hear me say how hard it has been. Nor were they really around, not only was it a weekend (family time!) but a holiday to boot! Which has made me feel like a soda bottle, shaken not opened. Ready to explode. Afraid of the mess it would make one it did get opened
But, then like I almost forgot, I made it through the low. And I am on my way back up. Knowing I am stronger then I ever gave myself credit for. Proud of my chutzpa. And at the same time, a little sad knowing I had no choice.
I miss my cheerleader, at a time when I need him the most. And it hurts. More than words can say. And I wonder, if our motto was always "together, we can make it through". How can I make it through with out him?