B.C. or before children, I had an amazing memory. In fact, the memory from those days is still intact. I just seems that the brain power has been brought down a few notches with each pregnancy. Then with the loss of John...well let's just say that I'm no longer a threat to the debate club dweebs. Anyway, there have been so many memories that will come up, and I really have to think hard to figure out if John was there or not. It's a pretty strange sensation actually.
The other day, one of these memories surfaced. It was a memory of having to put dilating eye drops into one of Averies' eyes. In my minds eye, I can clearly see John holding her while I administer the drops. She really hated those drops. They were painful, and they made it hard for her to see, so she always threw a fit when it was time for the drops. This scenario is a perfect example of how our marriage worked. One of us would hold the squirming child, while the other would work the magic of whatever treatment needed to be performed. The only problem with this particular memory is that it took place just a few months ago.
I sat back and thought to myself, "Wow, you're really losing it sister!" I realized that this wasn't a one time memory blip, but that there were several occasions that I could recall in which John was right there with us, only he couldn't have been. In fact, one of the times was up at the Alpine slides in Park City. I can clearly see him laughing with my brothers, while holding Averie's hand and calling to the boys. I swear to you that the memory is very vivid and very real, however, this outing took place before we even got his body home from Guatemala. It was a really somber occasion for all of us. We were still in shock, and just trying our hardest to run from the pain and reality of the situation. But in my memory, he was there with us. Handsome as ever.
I guess the thing that became glaringly obvious was the fact that he was there. He has always been here. I have always been able to feel him, but maybe I thought that I was pretending a bit. Funny how I can do that to myself. I can know something for sure, and still think that I made it up. I am so grateful for this little realization. I am so thankful for my sweet memories, and I am especially grateful for the knowledge that those sweet memories can continue to grow.
This is the story of one woman's navigation through grief following the loss of her true love, and husband of almost eleven years. Questions of who am I now, questions of how to raise the kids alone, and leaning how to live again will be confronted, hopefully in a positive and meaningful light.