The “What Ifs” and “Should Haves” Will Eat Your Brain

This quote by John O'Callaghan is something I'm really trying to hold onto. There were so many signs that something was really wrong with S but we just thought he had the flu. Oh, how wrong we were.

Today, the signs that I missed keep coming back to me. Not just today, it happens quite often actually but today it has been especially haunting. Little things that I missed keep coming back to me, things he said about how he was feeling, my reactions to him. I thought he was just being a man baby about the flu. I can't tell you how much I regret that.

It's too late now. I can't go back and change the past and I never will be able to. To focus on things that could have been done or should have been done had I known does me absolutely no good. I can't save him. The fact that I had a chance to save him but didn't know he needed saving is not something that will bring him back. Focusing on this, letting it haunt me only makes me feel worse and increases my anxiety.

I have been trying to focus on all the sweet conversations we often had, on how often I told him I love him or showed him I love him. His last full day in the hospital, when we thought he was getting better and coming home soon, I gave him a very tender and loving sponge bath. He was falling asleep and saying how good it felt. That is what I should focus on. That was a beautiful experience for both of us.

I just need to keep bringing it back to the loving and tender moments and hopefully those haunting moments about what more I could have done that only hindsight can show you will become less and less. I have to stay on top of that because I can tell that it really will eat my brain if I let it. It will also eat my stomach and make me sick.

If S is still around somewhere out there, I can guarantee that he isn't concentrating on what I did wrong. I have to tell myself that so I that one day soon I won't either.

The first two weeks after losing him...

I honestly don't know how I have made it these two weeks of my new life as a widow. A life that I am very begrudgingly walking through like a zombie.

Breathe. Drink water. Breathe. One foot in front of the other. Breathe. Drink water. Breathe. Try to eat, even if it is only a bite. Breathe. Try to sleep. Breathe.

That breathing thing is very important. It's amazing how many times my breath gets taken away by the grief. I can't tell you how many times I have felt like I might faint. Taking the dog for a walk leaves me breathless at the thought of coming home to an empty apartment. Going to the store leaves me breathless because my shopping always involved both of us and I would enjoy buying him little treats. Everywhere I look, I see things he loved and surprises I loved buying for him. He would get so excited over the smallest treat. He was so easy to please. His smile brightened my world.

Breathe. Cry. Breathe. Remember. Breathe. Just.Get.To.The.Next.Moment.

The first week I was surrounded by family and friends in our little apartment. I love them all very much but it was difficult being surrounded by all that activity and hiding a good amount of my grief. Then they all left. I thought it would be easier somehow. Now I'm alone to let my grief come out and it isn't any better than being surrounded. I'm alone everywhere I go no matter how many people are there. Nothing is ever enough because I don't have my husband here with me to be my best friend and give me emotional support the way he so lovingly would. It's all I want right now.

He was amazing and kind and imperfect and flawed. I loved every single part of him. I still do. I will forever. I love you, S and I always will.

Breathe. Drink water. Breathe. Get through. Breathe. Just breathe...