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i've started feverishly writing these memories of jim and i.  things we did, how it felt when we were together, the timeline of our romance.  there is an urgency in the knowledge that these are all i have left.  and time will continue to take from me.

how it felt when he held me and i could feel his heart through his chest.  i never felt more comfort than when i was being held, listening to the rhythm.  we were homebodies, and a lot of our afternoon when the kids napped would just be together.  he might be playing a video game or we could be in our bed with the windows open, breeze blowing in when it was nice weather.  just laying there, together, boom, boom, boom- the rhythm pounding out my life with him.  safe, boom, boom, boom. secure, boom, boom, boom.  protected, boom, boom, boom.

viewings are weird.  for me, it was important to see him one last time, for the believability aspect of everything.  the last time i had seen him before his death he was alive and fine.  i had to see him to believe it sort of thing.  but it's so hard, because everything is cold and harsh.  in the viewing everything felt different, his lips were waxy, his hands cold as ice, but when i lay my head on his chest, it felt the same.  it brought me back to everything, the safety, the comfort, the absolute serenity i felt when i would hear his heart through his shirt.  and i had to say goodbye to it.  i remember just standing there with my head on his chest, bawling, swearing that i would always love him.

the permanence of everything is setting in, deeply.  never again will his arms encircle me, protecting me from the dangers of this world.  never again will his lips brush my forehead, carrying with them all my worries and fears.  never again will my phone beep with a text telling me he misses me and the kids.  never again will i run my fingers across his stubble and relax into his embrace.  never again, never again.

why couldn't you hold on my love?  why couldn't you hold on?



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treat it.

to everyone who has never been touched by suicide,

i get it.  i used to be like you too.  here are the most common views of suicide i either heard or personally held growing up:

that person is selfish
that person is crazy
that person is a coward
they wanted to die
they were depressed for a long time and finally went through with it
there are always warning signs, so people know it's coming
that it's preventable

there is this social stigma around depression, suicide, etc.  i can't tell you what it is like to not be able to talk openly about my husband's death.  to see people either openly or privately distance themselves from my pain, search for reasons that he did it beyond the fact that he was ill and we didn't catch it in time, connect dots that aren't connected.  all so they can convince themselves that they will never know the pain, and i honestly hope they don't- but it's possible they will.  i know people whose lives…


to my love,

i hope you know how much i miss you.  the words, of course, fall short.  but there they are, just the same.  i told addy that you and elly can live in our hearts forever, but this of course is a lie.  death is permanent and there is no living to be done once the breathe leaves our bodies.  you are not living on in our hearts, minds, or souls.  there is no living to yet be done for you.  instead we are left with our memories which time will eventually dull.  numbing ourselves to the very sense of you.  it is that way for me with my mom, my memories of her are stunted and few and we had eight years together.

does it bother you to know the only real remembrance your children will have of you is seen through my eyes and my hearts?  the sharp reality of their dad is forever lost to them.

people are trying to instill hope in me in regards to my future.  i know they mean well but it is coming off condescending.  no one but my own being knows my pain.  i am not here…
Dear Cavs,

Our playoff season started the day my five week old daughter, Elly, passed away, twelve days later my husband also died suddenly.
Your road to the finals, so fraught with emotion was also the start of a very difficult, seemingly impossible journey for me.

I started watching at game five... when we were down 3-1, I thought for sure that we would lose that game- when we won, all of a sudden- I cared.  When so many lights had gone out for me there was all of a sudden very small glimmer of hope and dare I say satisfaction possibly ahead.

It would have seemed from the circumstances that I shouldn't care whether we won or lost, so many things in my life didn't hold their meaning anymore- but I did.  I couldn't help it.  The enthusiasm was infectious.  These games gave  me hope.

I watched as you won game five and game six and I'll never forget seeing Kyrie on the bench after six holding up his seven fingers.... Here we go.

I almost regretted getting invested as I …