15 Weeks

I’m 15 weeks out. Arg. Ya know, today started off good, and then I just started feeling the whole sad, sorry for myself widow grief thing, and I don’t like it! Then I try and think about why it is that today is sad, and not really yesterday, and I go, oh yeah, it’s a Tuesday, it’s 15 weeks. When do I let myself stop counting the weeks since I’ve seen him? I hate it. But then again…it just keep things in persective for me.

I like this sunshine, but this cold needs to LEAVE. I don’t care that my a/c is broken in the beat Jeep, I WANT WARMTH. Gimme 70 degree sunny days with the windows rolled down blaring my annoying country music and singing at the top of the lungs in my cute sunglasses darnit.

Really? Is it too much to ask for it to be gorgeous in February? Really? Hm….now I KNOW Kevin is still within me. Because this sounds like him last year at this time when he was just itching for the first opportunity to hit the beach surf fishing, and we went in April and froze to death, but it was still pretty fun. Because we were together, at the beach.

I’m concerned with how my first beach trip is going to go. I kind of want to go when it’s quiet-before the big summer crowds come in. I want to go down and just sort of envelop myself in the beach again. To release Kevin there in a sense. Not only that, to release myself from the burden of feeling pain while I’m there, because it’s bound to happen.

Hmmmmm…..maybe a beach trip will need to happen..soon!

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Comments 1

  1. I had forgotten how I counted the days and weeks right after my dad died (now over 17 years ago!). It’s like a testament to your survival. If you got through yesterday, there’s hope you can get through today. If you got through the last four months, you can probably get through four more.

    Your writing is really, really wonderful. Thank you so much for sharing.

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