Progress?

Wow. I didn't even realize what today is. Is this a sign of healing? Is it because I have other (more "important") things on my mind? Or is it just the result of it being a busy Saturday in July?

I may have even gone to bed tonight, only to wake up tomorrow and realize that I failed to mentally mark the date, if I hadn't read the following words of a fellow widow replying to a random post I just read on an internet bulletin board:

Hugs to u, today and always....(8 months for me today)

So out of curiosity, I checked the date. Lo and behold! It's the 11th once again.

In the beginning, I counted days. Then I began counting weeks...every Tuesday marked another week. Then you run into that strange thing where 4 weeks doesn't quite equal a calendar month so it's easier to switch to months. So that's when I began to count months and have continued to do so ever since.

This last month, I have begun to let go of the time issue a little bit. (What does it matter anyways? He's still gone and always will be...whether it's for 3 days or 7 years.) I've stopped being so exact. After June 11th, I started saying it's been "just over 7 months". Then it became 7 and a half months. For the last week or so, I've been saying it's been 8 months. Not "almost 8 months". Just 8 months.

And today I almost didn't even realize it.

8 months.

What a contrast this day is compared to exactly 8 months ago. Then it was almost winter. It was cold and cloudy and dreary outside. Our family pulled together because of a tragedy. A huge tragedy. There was no reason to feel anything but sadness and despair. Today it is hot and bright and sunny outside. Our family pulled together once again...but to celebrate the first high school graduation of our youngest generation. There was no reason to feel anything but happiness and pride.

In the past, I've written on the 11th of the month about how strange this "time" thing is when grieving such a tremendous loss. That still holds true. I can't believe 8 months have passed...almost 3/4's of a year. Yet it feels like it's been forever. All at the same time. I like to think of it as the "Twilight Zone Syndrome".

Life and time have both continued to move forward. Just as it will continue after every one of us are gone. After our children and our grandchildren are gone.

It's kind of bittersweet, this passing of time. In a very odd way that I can't explain, I want to forever remain in those ungodly painful first days and weeks. But I don't want to feel that intense, raw pain. The more time passes, the more people think that I surely must be healing and "getting over it". That's the part I don't like. Sure, it's not as close to the surface as much of the time as it used to be. But it will always be there. There is no getting over something like this. There comes a little more acceptance with each day that passes. Time also grants us the ability to deal with it a little better. But this forever changes a person. If I live another 50 years, I will never miss him any less than I do right now. I just want everyone to know and realize that.

Time does NOT heal all wounds. Well, maybe the gaping wound will heal. But the scar it leaves behind is an ugly one.

Much of the time I think I haven't made any progress on this journey. A journey that I will be on for the rest of my life. But when I go back and glance at some of my previous writings, I can see a change. Actually, I don't even have to look beyond the titles of my postings because, in the beginning, I titled everything with a number representing how many minutes had passed since he took his final breath.

Now I am rounding it up or down to the nearest half of a month.

And today...I almost forgot.

Progress? Maybe. Acceptance? Maybe a little of that too. Whatever it is...I hope it means I'm moving in the right direction.

I'm trying. I'm really trying.

Oh...and I have to edit to add this. At the graduation party, my sister had a display board of various pictures taken throughout Brittany's life. I don't know if anybody else noticed, but it didn't take me long to realize that she tried to include pictures of Brittany with as many different family members as possible. Of course, I quickly scanned the board to see if there was a picture of Chuck on it. And there it was...way up at the top. Who knows how many pictures she had to dig through to find one that included him? But my very thoughtful sister did it.

She remembered him.

Thank you! :)