It’s been 2 weeks and 4 days since my husband passed, unexpectedly.
I feel like I am vibrating from within.
I have moved from the house we rented, together, and have gotten an apartment, in the same school district, so there isn’t so much more change for my 12 year old. She went back to school this past Monday, and I am going back to work on February 20th.
So much has happened in the last 2.5 weeks. I feel like he is still here, but, he’s not.
I feel like every day I rebuild my heart, only to have it shatter, each night.
I have 2 closets in my new apartment. One is Mine, and one has his things in it. I can’t bear to pull his things from his dresser, and put it in a box. I have a special tote and very large ziplock bags for the items that still smell like him, and other special things.
I see my hands when I am talking with people, and they’re shaking. They are always shaking. I feel scared. I’ve never been alone before. Now I am a mother of a gorgeous 12 year old girl, without her father. My heart aches for her. My heart aches for me.
Atherosclerotic Coronary Vascular Disease is what took my husband, best friend, and Megan’s daddy, too soon.
If you didn’t know us, personally, it’s important to know that my husband left his mark on everyone he met, even those he only knew through Internet groups.
When we held his Life Celebration, I had to get a building that would fit at least 400 people. Everyone kept asking me “Are you sure? Really sure? Nowhere else?” I said “Yes! It has to be there!”
We held his Celebration of Life in a huge venue space called Mission Theatre. We were wanting to renew our vows there. The place was packed. Elbow to elbow, standing, wall-to-wall. I walked up the stairs, to get an overhead view, and it was beautiful! Not an empty space in the building!
Mitch always said not to have a funeral, because he hated funerals. He also didn’t want anyone to see him after he passed, because that was not the memory he wanted in the minds of his loved ones. His body wasn’t even there. We had a cash bar. We had his playlist playing. So many friends and family in one place. We even had “open mic” where people got up, and shared their memories of Mitch. It was beautiful.
His wishes were met. He never wanted anything. He was perfectly happy, with Meg and me. That’s what he always said. But we talked about death and what we would want the other to fo, and we talked about it, possibly more often than any normal people do.
Many people told me, that evening, that it was the best life celebration they had ever witnessed, and hope they can have something similar when they pass.
He was a very loved man, and Megan and I are feeling the love from all of OUR people, now.
Thank you for being here.
It’s going to be a bumpy ride now, but we’ve got each other. Family, friends, and even cyber-pals.