It’s the first day of Spring, although you wouldn’t know it here. It’s freaking cold and windy, but at least the sun is out. As is the moon. I love days where I can see both mid-day.
I haven’t written in a long time. So much has been going on and I just didn’t know how to find the words. Brian died late in the Fall. It is now Spring. I have made it through an entire season. Unimaginable. While the world goes through it’s seasons, I have been turning my own. It has been almost 4 months (impossible,) and while people say that things get better with time, it’s almost harder now than ever. Much of the shock has worn off. Now it’s just daily life and the understanding that daily life sucks ass without Brian. This is the time of year that was the best for us. Things come alive and we started to run like wild children in the wind. OH how we played! Now the playground seems all rusted and full of sharp edges and my legs have forgotten how or where to go.
I don’t even know what Spring looks like without him by my side. So much needs to be done. Last week I chopped off a 100lb tree limb that broke off during the snow and ice storm a month ago. I pounded stakes through the fence and into the ground to deter Zeus from escaping. I have fixed plumbing and electrical issues and have pulled weeds and checked gutters and made arrangements for car maintenance. I have almost caught up with the laundry for the first time since Brian died. I have changed the sheets, I have spent time in the sun, I have grilled steaks. And all of it, ALL of it, is empty because there is someone missing.
I have also done really hard things, important things. I have now gotten almost all of Brian’s property back from the state. I have gone through almost all of it. I got his wallet and his driver license this past Monday, his 39th birthday. I have taken his mother to the place where he died. Sunday, I will take his brother. I have taken our children. I have taken myself.
Some days are much harder than others. There are days when I barely do anything at all except watch countless episodes of Law & Order: SVU on Netflix all day. People ask me why I do this. I do it because, for 42 minutes at a time, I can escape and live in a world where police aren’t incompetent, where investigations are taken seriously, where there is always a big strong guy to get the truth out of the bad dudes (I will stop watching when I hit the season where Stabler leaves.) I watch it because it doesn’t always turn out pretty, the good guys don’t always win, and I watch it because I relate so much to the victims in these stories. No, I am not suffering the trauma of sexual abuse, but I do feel like I have been violated by this entire event and process and I want Benson and Stabler to put the whole damn thing back together again. And I want to see Christopher Meloni take his shirt off. Come on, I’m still human!
There are also days when I get myself up, dust myself off, and get shit done. TCB Sarah comes out and kicks ass. Those days are highly productive, but I’m not foolish enough to see them as days of healing. I see them for exactly what they are: days of escaping and coping in a different way. Go go go, run run run, do do do.
It doesn’t matter. I still go to bed alone every night, regardless of my daily actions.
When Brian and I got married, we were Ramen Noodle poor. We didn’t have two dimes to rub together, but we had an abundance of love. We were the richest people in the world. Our rings cost less than $175 combined. About a year ago, Brian told me that he wanted to get me a diamond solitaire, an actual engagement ring. I believed he was going to give it to me for Christmas or for our anniversary. He was going to use a diamond that his mother had given him – a beautiful marquis cut stone. He died before he could get it made. Brian’s mother never forgot the conversations he had with her about using that stone, however, and so a few weeks ago we met with Brian’s personal jeweler and, as I sit here typing this, I am wearing the engagement ring Brian had in mind. 12 years after we married, almost 4 months after he died. It’s stunningly beautiful, but there is a part of me that looks at it with pain in my heart because he wasn’t here to put it on my finger.
Concert season is approaching. I bought tickets to the MoonRunners Festival on November first. We were supposed to go together and have a weekend in Chicago. My heart breaks to think of a concert without him. I am blessed with the best girlfriends in the world and I will be going with 2 of them and it will be a wonderful weekend, but it will be my first show since Brian died and I will find myself looking for his hat in the crowd. I have three more concerts lined up and then it’s more festivals. How will I do this when I’m not even sure how the sun will rise?
I wake up every day. I go to bed every day. I do what is needed to be done and I carry on, but most of the time I have no idea what day it is. I just get up and go through. It is a new season. The season of painful change.