Daddy,
‘You can be scared and brave at the same time.’
I’ve said this to our children since they could understand - to dig deep within when fear can seem paralyzing or a hill too big to climb… to make the choice to move forward is the very definition of bravery. Our boys are brave beyond words. Their little lives were forever changed on May 1, 2022. They choose brave every single day.
I’ve said this to myself every single day this past year, as well. Putting one foot in front of the other through unimaginable depths of pain in the wake of losing you has been terrifying. For our children, for you, and for me, I choose brave. To walk forward, to smile even when I’m shook on the inside, to keep going. I choose brave, too.
I read somewhere months ago from another widow that no matter where I go, and whoever I’m with, the sense of ‘home’ doesn’t feel the same without my husband, my man, my friend. It couldn’t have been a more true way to describe how out of sorts I feel without you on this Earth. I’m still trying to find my place and purpose outside of being our children’s Mom and a young widow.
I do know that whatever that is and whatever that looks like, it will be something great. This second chapter in my life is an opportunity to showcase the legacy that is you. To grow in ways I didn’t know I could. To dream different dreams. Now I’m shooting for the stars the way you always did.
The acts of kindness that have been given to us so freely and generously - the outpouring of love has been endless. The texts, the calls, emails, letters, cards… I could be having a great day, or sitting in tears, and they all matter the same. I took each message as a Matt-wink to either pick me up, or cheer me on. I knew someway, somehow, those messages were from you.
Yesterday we took your ashes to ‘our’ beach and let the waves take you to your resting place. We sobbed as if we had lost you all over again. I was worried I may have traumatized the boys, but really, it was a relief to see them release all they have been holding in. They are one year older and have a developmental understanding they didn’t possess a year ago. It was painful, yet healing. It was our sacred place before children. It was our sacred place with our children. Forevermore, it will be the place that holds our dearest memories and the largest piece of our hearts.
I miss you endlessly every minute of every day. I can also feel in my soul that for the well-being of me and our children, it’s okay to start moving forward instead of standing still. I know you want us to be happy - whatever that looks like and however we get there. We will get there.
I’ll love you always and forever, and never ever never, my man. I just know I’ll be safe in your arms again one day. Someday.
H
Comments