The 1 095th day spent fishing on the side of that heavenly lake.
This blog was kind of started as a way for me to cope with your death. Three years on and the thought of it still sits so uncomfortably in my stomach that it's all I can do not to rip my insides out.
Three years on and I still find my hands shaking while I try and verbalise and punctuate what I'm thinking about you. Unfortunately, due to certain circumstances, I was robbed of the day that I had planned for you. I had planned to remember you- in every single detail. I had planned to hear your laugh in my head and see your face when you smiled. I had planned to imagine what life would be like if I could have picked up the phone and laughed with you at how silly this whole thing really is.
I had planned to convince myself that time really does heal all wounds.
Instead, with the turmoil that the other circumstances brought, I found myself fighting to remember what you looked like. I found myself fighting to hear your voice or remember your stories. I couldn't block out all of the other noise just to sit quietly with you in my head.
At the end of the day, slumped over on the couch without appetite for either food or vivacity, I felt so ashamed that I didn't get the chance to honour you in the way that I had wanted.
It all went wrong. Even the date on this post will be wrong... yet another thing I can't change about this whole situation.
The messed up thing about this is I have another whole year to plan and wait for the next anniversary of your death. Maybe next year I will succeed at - and this is where I really have no words to describe what we are meant to do on the day that you died- 'celebrating' in the right way.
T, no matter how many days go by, or what the date is, there isn't a day where you aren't in my thoughts. I know you're here, and I know you stick with all of us through whatever is going on in our lives.
I love you, and I miss you.
And I'm sorry about yesterday.
Pru x
PS: Thanks for the way you said 'hi' by contrasting the weather on the 30th and 31st. Very subtle. :) x
Three years on and I still find my hands shaking while I try and verbalise and punctuate what I'm thinking about you. Unfortunately, due to certain circumstances, I was robbed of the day that I had planned for you. I had planned to remember you- in every single detail. I had planned to hear your laugh in my head and see your face when you smiled. I had planned to imagine what life would be like if I could have picked up the phone and laughed with you at how silly this whole thing really is.
I had planned to convince myself that time really does heal all wounds.
Instead, with the turmoil that the other circumstances brought, I found myself fighting to remember what you looked like. I found myself fighting to hear your voice or remember your stories. I couldn't block out all of the other noise just to sit quietly with you in my head.
At the end of the day, slumped over on the couch without appetite for either food or vivacity, I felt so ashamed that I didn't get the chance to honour you in the way that I had wanted.
It all went wrong. Even the date on this post will be wrong... yet another thing I can't change about this whole situation.
The messed up thing about this is I have another whole year to plan and wait for the next anniversary of your death. Maybe next year I will succeed at - and this is where I really have no words to describe what we are meant to do on the day that you died- 'celebrating' in the right way.
T, no matter how many days go by, or what the date is, there isn't a day where you aren't in my thoughts. I know you're here, and I know you stick with all of us through whatever is going on in our lives.
I love you, and I miss you.
And I'm sorry about yesterday.
Pru x
PS: Thanks for the way you said 'hi' by contrasting the weather on the 30th and 31st. Very subtle. :) x
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