What 2 years without you has taught me

My Memory loves you, it asks about you all the time….

2 Years ago today since I saw his beautiful face, heard his voice, touched him.  

Two years since they said those forever haunting words “we’re sorry he didn’t make it.” 

These last two years have felt like a lifetime, like a whole new life, a whole new me.  

So many things I never knew about myself have come to the surface.  

Grief has a way of revealing all that you are, forcing you to look deeply at yourself through pain, loneliness and vulnerability.

In two years, I have become more compassionate, more aware, more loving, more accepting, more free, more me. 

I have grieved, cried, been more lonely than I thought possible, built a business, started a couple books, made new friendships, strengthened existing ones, managed home renovations, traveled many places, overcome many roadblocks, parented 4 grieving children, gotten tattoos and even explored the world of dating, all without him.

How could I not be different? 

Everything has changed, my map of the world with new lines and horizons.  

I don’t like how I got here, but I like who I am today more than ever before in my life.  My worth is strong, resilient, and I am more aware of me than I thought possible.

I don’t need to wonder what he would think of the new me, because I already know, his beautiful qualities are what inspire me to be the best version of me, knowing he would be smiling with immense pride at his wife and children.

This journey never ends, but what I know now more than ever is that when we feel that deep pain, and really experience it, we give ourselves the gift of feeling incredible feelings of deep beauty and love.  

I have learned you cannot have one without the other.

I feel now more deeply than I could have thought possible, awakened through tragedy to something so beautiful, the realization that this life is a gift, and that beauty is everywhere if we just look, especially within us.  

Today doesn’t feel as painful as a year ago, it feels like a day to reflect, to talk about him, to feel him close, but a day none the less to keep forward focused, to reflect on the journey, the accomplishments of my children, of myself, and to practice self compassion through that, to celebrate not just surviving, but thriving even through our pain.

He is missed, everyday, he is a part of us in everything we do, today we prefer to quietly acknowledge, but forge ahead feeling the magic in life and knowing that no matter how long it’s been he is always right beside us, nudging, cheering, encouraging, and loving us gently along. 

Missing him today and everyday forever.  ❌⭕️