Why him? Why us?

Disclaimer: The following words are dripping with self-pity and serve no purpose except to voice my anger and discontent with God.

Today has been okay. It's no different than any other unusually "sad" day I've had. The thing that sucks is I never know when they are going to happen. The square on my calendar is empty. This isn't the first of a specific holiday that he isn't here for. It isn't the 11th of the month. There isn't any major event coming up soon. I JUST MISS HIM. Plain and simple. It's not that I don't miss him every other day of the year. Some days it just seems easier to cope.

I've had plenty of these days in the past 8 months. I have to admit that I can handle them much better now than I could in the beginning. I've learned how to just roll with them, ride them out, and wait for a better day to come. Because it always does. It passes. I even get concerned at times that I'm feeling too good. That I'm not grieving enough. But when a day like this hits, I long for those good days again. At the same time, I'm relieved to feel sad because it gives me some false sort of "proof" that I love him as much as I keep saying I did. If I am grieving intensely, I surely must have loved him. I know it sounds crazy. I know it is crazy. It's the way my mind works these days though.

Besides being able to see that this sadness comes in waves that will subside, I've also learned how to accept them for what they are. I'm even starting to learn to embrace them. I'm learning how to allow myself to feel what I need to feel to get through them. Whether that means just staying in bed for half of the day or getting too busy to be able to stop and think about things...I am listening to my mind, my body, my heart. I am learning to tell myself that it's okay. No matter how I choose to deal with it, it's okay.

So that's why I decided to sit down tonight and write. This is how I choose to deal with these emotions tonight. I'm not trying to write something profound. I'm not trying to consider what others will think about what I write. I'm just putting it out there. Because that is what I need to do to feel a little better. Then I can go to bed and sleep (hopefully) peacefully.

My feelings today all come down to what could be compared to a 2-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. It's not pretty and I'm not proud of it. But it is honest.

I only have one question. For God, I guess. Why? Why, why, why? I'm reading a book right now about spiritual lessons we must learn and once we learn them we move on...blah, blah, blah. If that shit is true, don't you think that either one of us would have held back from learning these "spiritual lessons" until we were old? Don't you think I would have tried much harder to finish my business here to coincide with his timing? Don't you think he would have held back and waited for me? Or waited for the kids to grow up? Or waited until he had the chance to meet his future grandkids?

And, while I'm at it, why did it have to be such a painful exit? Why didn't we get more time to talk? Why didn't he get enough relief to do something...anything...to build a few more memories?

And, most importantly, why him???

Why him?

I can just hear the platitudes. "Only the good die young." "God only takes the best." "It was all a part of God's plan."

Whatever. Even if those were true, it doesn't make it any better. It doesn't comfort me when I see an 80+ year old couple holding hands while walking into a store. It definitely doesn't help me deal with the clerk at the gas station bitching about what a jerk her husband is. And I certainly can't stand reading a newspaper article about the guy who beat up his wife or got arrested for abusing his baby.

Why didn't God take those idiots instead?

We all have choices in life. Some things we choose are not healthy. They are not the things God intended us to do with our bodies. But, because we give in to temptations, does that mean we deserve to die? What about the 90-year-old woman who is overweight and smoked and drank her whole life? Why did she get 40 more years than Chuck? Does God really decide? Hell, is there even such a thing as God? Or a Divine Plan?

If I ever get answers, it will be after I'm gone. IF there is anything out there waiting for us. I sure hope there is. I've always had questions about all of this. But now? My questions and uncertainty have multiplied greatly. I know what I would like to believe. What are the chances that it will all work out exactly as I would like it to?

All I know for certain is that I don't understand it. I don't understand any of it. I never will. There is no answer good enough to satisfy my ultimate question. WHY DID THIS HAPPEN TO HIM? TO US??

Now that it's happened, I guess it doesn't matter why. It really doesn't matter. What's done is done. There is no going back.

I can't make sense of any of it. I could make a list of literally thousands of people I would have chosen to take his place.

But it doesn't matter now. He was the one who was taken from us. He enjoyed a lot in life. But he also struggled. We were nearing the finish line. We were getting close to the prize. We were almost to the point of being able to sit back and relax and enjoy what we've worked so hard for all of these years.

He will never have that satisfaction.

It's up to me now to continue working towards those goals. I would like to just forget about all of that. To not care. But then his efforts would be in vain. If he couldn't be here to bask in the glory of an honest, hard-working, long and fulfilled life...he would want at least one of us to experience that.

I will never forget all that he has contributed to my life and to so many others. I won't let anyone else forget either. That's my purpose now. His memory will live on through me and through those closest to him. That's the least I can do to honor a man who deserved so much more out of life.

I still can't help but question why, though.

Why him?

Why us?

It will never make sense. I will never have an answer that satisfies me. Maybe I'm not supposed to know the answer. But I will always ask the questions.