Speechless

By no stretch of the imagination, I am unabashedly verbose. And yet, just after midnight on the 17th of December, I sit speechless.

I have found the one who my soul loves.

Happy one year anniversary to my sweet E.

13 years, 48 days.

Nine years ago today, I lost the most important person in the world.

To say that I miss her seems inadequate; to say that I loved her seems to be a vast understatement.

They say that time heals all wounds but I have found this to be untrue. How can time heal the pain of death, when every second that passes is a second that is farther from the last hug, the last, "I love you," or the last smile? No, time does not heal all wounds.

Time is a tricky thing that tries to make you forget the hurt by blurring, ever so slightly, the memories of the past. But it also works against you. Time forces you to work harder to remember their voices and their touch, their laughter and their stories.

The most beautiful woman I have ever known held me in her arms the day I was born and loved me unconditionally until the day that she died.

I have to watch myself, even nine years later, when I see people my age or older with their grandparents. It's a twinge of jealousy, a moment of anger and a knife that twists itself in my spine as I watch the Lucky Ones have what I will never again experience. It is beautiful and it is broken, but it is the way my eyes so jadedly see the world.

-

Thirteen years and forty eight days I had you in my life. I truly had no idea what I had until far too many years later when I realized what had escaped me. I will never let time steal you away from me. As painful as the image of the cancer breaking your body but never your spirit, I will embrace the worst of times so that I may never lose sight of the days when you were hugging me tightly, laughing so freely and always loving, unconditionally. The most beautiful woman I have ever known, the most precious memory I will ever hold.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you.

You were like my mother

You were my best friend

You were everything I want to be

And all the good inside of me

That there's ever been

There's never been another

Who loved me like you did

My grandmother, my angel

What's It Like Not To Count?

I don't think I'm being sensational when I say I can't remember a time when I wasn't counting down to something huge and life-changing. As a teenager, I was always counting down the days until I could drive, graduate, buy a lottery ticket and eventually a beer. During college, I counted down the days until finals, summer vacations and eventually graduation. Perhaps the toughest parts of the count down game come from "real life." Marking off the days until Ethan would get home from basic training, counting down until the day I got married and moved out of my childhood home and now, what might be the hardest thing I've ever had to "wait" for, my husband to come home from Afghanistan.

And I have to wonder... what comes next? When Ethan is home, things will be so different for me. I have no idea how to live without waiting for something. When most people look at the calendar, they see a set of dates that help them organize their lives. When I see a calendar, I see an X being marked off slowly but surely, counting down until The Day. When I see a clock, I don't just see minute and hour hands, I see grief and fear ticking away. And I have no clue what's going to happen when that isn't the case anymore.

I sometimes imagine what it will be like when Ethan comes home and it's just us. Already married, the thought of another deployment is so far out of mind, and all the things we've been waiting for just surrounding us as if to proudly say, "look at what you did! It's here, it's here!" Just a home with our dog and and then whatever we want. And I know that sounds childish to say that I'm looking forward to just doing whatever the hell we want but it isn't at all. Lately, someone dictates when we can talk on the phone, when we can see each other, how long we can chat online, etc. etc. And you know what? I can't wait for the day that we look at each other and say, "What do you want to do today?" And neither of us will know. We'll sleep too late, eat breakfast at lunch, fill our tank of gas all the way to the brim and just drive until we forget where we are. And it will be perfect.

I have no idea what it's like not to count the days "until". And I am so excited to find out what it's like, that I can hardly stand it some days.

But for now, we're 131 days down, and over 150 to go...

So About Last Night

I really need to refrain from blogging when I'm at the peak of an emotional meltdown.

Last night was pretty terrible, I can't lie. Something just washed over me as I was trying to put together Ethan's care package for Christmas. Today is the deadline for shipping to an APO in order for it to arrive by Christmas, so I was rushing last night to put together his box. It's not the worst box I've ever done, but it's not wonderful either. I couldn't get it together. Nothing was fitting inside there correctly, the box doesn't look as pretty as I would have liked and I still can't figure out if I did enough. I don't really think I did, but what can I do at this point but move on?

Putting this box together was sort of like Veteran's day. I had no clue how emotional it would make me or why, if there even has to be a reason, that it got to me so much. I think maybe knowing that he won't be home for the holidays is something I've accepted but didn't quite realize what it meant. Being around his family, watching other couples celebrate together... it just adds up to a very depressing season.

I had heard from other wives that the middle of the deployment is always the worst part. I thought they were crazy! How in the world could the middle point be tougher than those first, terrifying nights? Well, I've completely figured out just how horrible the middle part can be.

For the most part, it's exciting to see the number decrease in terms of how many days are left until he's back in the US, but there are moments when I think about how long it's been since I've seen him and then realize how many more days will pass before he comes home and I'm just overwhelmed. It can make something as simple as wrapping a Christmas present torture, or something as normal as carrying on a conversation via text message excruciatingly painful. It sometimes makes absolutely no sense, and maybe that's okay. I haven't figured it out yet.

I'm still lucky to have people around me who put up with me when I'm going through rough days... I do my very best to be there and support other people, so sometimes I set my expectations really high when it's my turn to need someone, and rarely have I been disappointed in the past few months.

As a side note, I learned not to listen to Mariah Carey's greatest hits when I'm sad because 1) they will make cry harder and 2) they will not help lift me into a better mood.

But on a positive note...

Yesterday marked the end of nine weeks worth of dieting and working out and I'm really, really, REALLY excited about it. I've still got 235923453 a whole lot of pounds to lose and a shit ton of work ahead of me, but I've lost about 25 pounds, give or take a few ounces, and it feels really, really good. This week I'm getting re-trained on all the machines at my gym because it's been about three years since someone showed me how to work everything and I'm going to start working with weights at least twice a week. I still love my elliptical but I need to start toning up as well...

Once I get down another size in jeans, I'll post a progress picture... I'm thinking I probably have about twenty pounds to go but that's completely doable... Most likely by mid January I should be there.

So here's to an intense week of working out and trying to keep my head above water... it'll be a battle but I'm ready.

Today Sucks.

You know what I would love right about now? I would love to not be crying over a freaking Christmas present. I'd love to think that anything I did for E would be great but the truth is that he probably won't even act excited about a fucking thing I do.

I'd also like to go back and not eat breakfast or lunch because I'm absolutely sick over it. Literally sick and I don't even want to think about food for the next two days because it makes me want to knock myself out. Seriously, wtf was I thinking? I've been busting my ass for 9 weeks and I blow it in a 6 hour span of time. At least the gym is open tomorrow.

I'd also love just love to think that time changes some people but honestly, it may not.

WHATEVER.


So. Over. It.


I need wine. No I don't. Too many calories. Fuck it.