Be Good to Yourself

I've tried many times to post about my Mitt's passing and could not.  With a heavy heart, I am forcing myself to post this now.  My beloved went home to heaven on July 23, 2012 at 10:11 pm.  I am not ready to write down here what I experienced watching my beloved die, it is much too painful. I cried so many tears, they were like acid on my face; it felt as if every tear was burning the skin on my eyes and cheeks. I tried several times to force myself to stop crying. Now it's two weeks later and when I cry the tears still burn and in some odd way it's quite fitting to how I feel.

Saying goodbye to my Mitt was worse than I could've imagined and I had braced myself for my broken heart to shatter. I could've screamed a million screams and it would not have satisfied my need to express the intense feeling of the betrayal of life.

I could not have prepared myself to feel the overwhelming sense of my own death. How is it that I am still here and breathing when I feel as if my life has ended. How is it that when my world is quiet I feel such an overwhelming crushing weight on my chest but yet I go on. When I'm swimming in our pool, why do I see a shadow of myself floating at the bottom and feel as if I am dead yet I am not.

Mitt told me all he wanted was for me to be happy. Our daughter, Cassie's baby shower was scheduled for the first weekend after he died. He told me no matter what he wanted me to have the shower. I agreed not knowing at the time he would leave on a Monday and the shower would be my first Saturday without him. This was just classic Mitt; it was his way of telling me not to just go on with life but to enjoy it. The days since his death are a fog for me and I feel I'm still in this fog, this shock, this unending abyss of waiting for him to come home.

Maybe someday I will find a little comfort knowing he picked his date. He was born on August 23, his dad, Paul was born on March 23. He told me just weeks before his death he really liked the number 23, so the fact that he died on July 23 is his way of telling me...he chose this.

Just a few days ago I had a dream. Mitt was trying to blow up a balloon and couldn't. He stopped trying, looked at me and said "I can't do it, you'll have to have the party without me."

This is so unreal to me; when the phone rings I still think it's him, my heart jumps and in a few fleeting seconds I feel tremendous joy thinking it's him calling. When I am away from the house I think he'll be home when I return only to have to remind myself over and over...he'll never call me again...physically he'll never come home.

I know he didn't die without teaching us all to appreciate each other and love each other more. When we think we have nothing left to give each other, we should all remember to dig deep and give more love.

I wouldn't wish this pain on any living thing; but someday you may find yourself in this place of grief I'm in. Or maybe you'll be the one going home to heaven leaving your loved ones behind.

I know what Mitt would say to you, he said it to me many times; he would say..."don't wait, be good to yourself and live your best life."