Today has been three weeks since I last spoke with my husband. Three week since I last heard his voice, felt his touch or enjoyed his calm presence. Every day there are new challenges and frustrations. I hit new depths of sadness and new levels of irritation that I never thought were possible. My thoughts race with what if's, fears and memories. With the ambush of unwanted thoughts and emotions I thought starting a blog would be a way to let some of those feelings out. Put them somewhere to stop them from invading every part of me, from taking over my life. On February 5th my husband and I had a very normal day. I wonder now, if we had known it would be our last day together, would we have done anything differently? We had a last day. There was nothing spectacular about that day, nothing that made it special, other than it was the last day.
My husband died from what the doctors called a "devastating stroke". The stroke was secondary to a carotid artery dissection. I think about everything that happened that week and it feels like a bad dream, a surreal nightmare that I am not capable of wrapping my head around. I think I moved through his time in the hospital in a fog. It happened so fast. On February 5th Brian went to the medi clinic because we thought he might have an ear infection. He had a cold for a few days prior and was just a bit clumsy during the day. There wasn't anything really significant other than he seemed a bit more withdrawn, not his usual self, but in the past Brian was always like that when he didn't feel well. It wasn't really out of the ordinary. In retrospect there were things we could have been more concerned about, but in the moment, who really thinks there is something fatal happening inside their spouses body? The clinic trip turned into an emergency room trip and the final moments of me being able to look into Brian's eyes and share that very special connection we had.
The past three weeks have been the most difficult time of my life. I miss him with every part of me, every second of every day. Every moment is just another moment that takes me further away from my time with him. Every day is filled with firsts that I never wanted to have. And every day I have to push sadness down because sometimes it is so powerful I don't even know how to feel it without it crushing my will to get through just one more day. I'm hoping the sadness will become manageable. I hear it gets "easier" with time. So right now I live moment to moment, trying to focus on our beautiful 11 mth old daughter and his devoted step children who he loved unconditionally.
I hope this blog will provide some comfort to myself, to my children, maybe to others who have to say goodbye far too soon. I don't know how long it will take for our story to unfold, but this blog will be a holding spot for me. For when I'm ready to share those final moments, the difficulty with the decisions I had to make, the grief that consumes our world and the time that keeps going by.