This Time Last Year - Part Three

November 11th, 2008...the last sunrise he would live through.

Not that he saw it. Not that he was even aware of it.

But he was still breathing. His heart was still beating. I could look at him. I could talk to him. I could take care of him. He was alive.

November 11th is also my Grandpa's birthday. When it's my time, I hope I don't die on a family member or friend's birthday. I didn't want Chuck to die on Grandpa's birthday. (Well, I didn't want him to die AT ALL.) But if he had to, why on Grandpa's birthday?

But...

When it got to that point, I secretly hoped that he would die that day. Because the next day, November 12th, was my niece's 18th birthday. And that would have been even more awful. It's bad enough that her birthday weekend...Friday night and all day Saturday...was spent at Chuck's funeral. That kinda puts a damper on a birthday celebration. Especially one of the big years.

So, if I am forced to look at the bright side, I'm glad he chose(?) to die on the 11th instead of the 12th.

And I'm pretty sure Grandpa would agree with me.

So, this is it. Today is the day.

The anticipation and anxiety has been building for several weeks now. I've been saying all along that the days I anticipate being horrible usually pass by considerably smooth, while the ones I think will be a piece of cake are sometimes surprisingly difficult.

So far, that has held true for the last couple of days.

Today, on THE actual day, I feel relatively calm. Yesterday, especially last night, was another story. It was a little rough. I woke up in a good mood. I remained in a good mood for the first several hours of the day. I had a hair appointment at 11:00. (Why in the world did I schedule that appointment at that specific time? Around the time he declined so rapidly?) I made it through that appointment without freaking out. I came home and accomplished some things and still managed to keep my spirits up. But every now and then, totally out of the blue, I would just break down and start sobbing. Sobbing in a way I haven't since the first couple of months. It took me totally by surprise.

Then it started getting dark out...

That's when I realized that I couldn't sit in this house all night, alone except for the kids in their bedrooms, in silence. Alone with my thoughts. And those memories of what was going on in this room last year at this time. It was too much. I just couldn't stay here. So I stayed at a friend's house. I didn't need to talk. I just needed to be near someone and away from this house for those overnight hours. And I slept like a baby. (Thank you, Friend.)

My mind will go through a million and one thoughts today. But I'm doing okay. I really am. Even though it's a significant date, it's just another day that he's been gone. It's kinda like your birthday. You are not really another YEAR older on your birthday, even though the number of your age changes. You are just another day older than you were the day before.

So, today, I will think of past memories with fondness. But I will also think about the future. I'm sure I will still have some of those terrible thoughts...of sickness and dying. After all, that was the worst thing I've ever seen in my life. But that happens on "regular" days, too. I'm sure I will visit the cemetery for a few minutes. But I do that quite frequently already, too.

And at 1:25 PM, I will take a few minutes to be silent. I will remember him with love and respect. I will remember how much courage and strength he showed...right through to the very end. I will honor his memory and the memories of the life we created together.

And then I will make a conscious decision to continue on living. Never forgetting. Living a good life doesn't mean I have to forget. It means I won't let grief, sadness and pain hold me back. I intend to flip those things into something positive. Those things have made me more compassionate...but they've also made me stronger and more determined.

No, I don't have to forget. I will incorporate every aspect of the last 20 years into my future in as positive of a way as possible. Smiling because it happened...instead of crying because it's over.

His cancer isn't going to kill both of us. I won't let it. And he wouldn't have wanted it to steal the rest of my life away from me. If he would've had the choice, he would have sacrificed his life in order for me to live the rest of mine. I know that without a doubt.

So enjoying every little thing that life has to offer isn't forgetting him. It's honoring him. What a shame it would be to waste the lessons I've learned from him...from his life...and especially from his death.

I'll never forget you, Chuck. And, I know. I can hear you now. You might be a little pissed that your picture is in the paper...again! And I know you think it was a waste of money. ;) But I guess I didn't want anyone else to forget either.

I made you two promises on this day one year ago. I promised you that we would be okay. And I promised I would make you proud. I hope I've done just that so far. I've certainly been trying. And I'll never stop.

I'm going to live a (God-willing) long, full and happy life. For me. For our boys. And also for you...in your honor. I know you wouldn't want it any other way.

I'll always miss you. I'll always love you. But I think I'm gonna be okay. After all, I promised.