One month ago, on January 25th, I was up, bustling around the house, getting ready for a mandatory staff meeting. Before I left, I tripped over a dog, in our bedroom, and ended up kissing Mitch, a quick “I love you” peck, and left. 

Off I went. He got up, got dressed, and headed to work, on his way out, he told Megan, “I hope you have a good day. I love you. See ya later.” 

Last words. 

I am so happy that we always said “I love you.” There was never any question as to if he loved me, or if I loved him. He made sure, if there were complete silence, he would say “I love you!” And our responses came immediately. “Love you too!”

Someone told another that while you grieve, people will start to avoid you. In my case, I don’t feel people avoiding me. I get many people telling me they “don’t know what to say.” That’s okay! Since I have lost Mitch, I’ve had a friend lose her sister, a cousin and his wife lose their pregnancy, and a friend lose the people she considered close enough to call “mom and dad”. I HAVE NO WORDS! I don’t know what to say to them! I love them, and pray for them to have comfort in this time. I am here for them, as they are here for me. 

As a grieving widow, knowing that you are there, is enough. Even if it’s a quick shoulder bump, to say “I’m thinking about ya.” 

The pain doesn’t stop, but you also cannot make it worse or better. AND THATS OKAY! 

As people grieve, we learn to live with the pain. We learn to keep putting one foot in front of the other, with this awful, horrible pain, and emptiness. 

We learn to fill the emptiness with love and memories, because that’s what we CAN do. 

We learn that we HAVE to keep going, or others will suffer. Especially mothers or fathers who lose a spouse at a young age. As unfair as this is, for us, imagine how much more unfair it is for the child/children who have lost a parent. 

Life. Isn’t. Fair. 

I am still trying to figure out which one of us, Mitch or I, were dealt the crappiest hand in life. Then I remember, our childhoods shaped us into the people we are today. Without all the horrible things that happened to us, we would NEVER be the caring, loving, loyal people we are/were. Mitch and I may have had it rough, as kids, but, as a whole, our family and friends are AMAZING! Mitch’s parents were young, so, them being “children” was to be expected. He held no grudges!

 He was proud of both of his dads for overcoming addiction. For becoming the men they became. He was proud of his siblings for every single accomplishment they made. He loved with his whole heart, and he loved everyone. (Except that ONE PERSON, who will not be named, 😜 And no, family, none of you are that person.) 

So, if you see one of us, it’s okay to talk about something else. It’s okay to talk about Mitch. It’s okay to ask about him. It’s okay to have no words. It’s okay to stand there silently, and just BE there. It’s NOT okay to avoid us. Avoiding someone because they are grieving is unacceptable, and no real friend would do it. Period. 

I hope to make today a fun day, for my daughter and I. Maybe we will go to the mall. Maybe a movie. Maybe both. Maybe we will rent movies and lounge around the apartment all day in our PJs. Whatever it is we do, we will be doing it together. 
We love you, always, Mitchell. 

We will never forget. 

One thought on “It’s Been One Month, Since I Last Kissed My Husband. 

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