On October 7th, he would have been 55. I always tried to make the birthdays special but have trouble remembering what we did last year. Two years ago, we did a cruise, which I hated, but now I would do it in a minute just to share another day with him. Every year was a blessing and certain birthdays were hard for him. When he was in his 30's, he looked back on the age that his Dad died and held his breath as he survived the year (34, 35, 36? I do not remember). When he turned 45, he looked back on the death of his Mom. The next big year was 62, the year his grandfather died.
I am still in shock, although the numbness has worn off. I cry more easily now-but only for a few moments. I hold on to the strangest things-his toothbrush still in the holder as he left it on the 20th of February. I cannot seem to erase the shows that we TIVO'ed before he died. His robe hangs on the hook outside the shower. Am I waiting for him to come back, do these things offer me comfort? Maybe I still believe that the presence of these things mean that he isn't gone for good. And if I discard his toothbrush and robe and erase the TV shows-that will mean he did not exist.
I feel very alone. My special person, the person that was for me, and made me feel loved and included and important is no longer here. So I feel that I do not belong anywhere, there is no one that I exist for uniquely. At the end of the day, there is no one to share the trivia with. It is not that anything that I say was so important, in fact, there were times when he did not want to engage in a conversation about all the details of my day. But he was there, and I could sit down and complain and joke and babble. And he would listen and comment, and share his own stuff. We existed in our own world and it was the world that I needed to be in and I felt like there was a place where I belonged and was wanted and needed. I do not just want to fill the space with someone. I only want him.