I have been trying to hold on to the good hours, moments, or even a day at a time now. I'm getting better at it, to a degree.
I made it through Hannukah, and had a really nice Shabbos this past week with my cousin cooking and singing.
As it gets closer to Christmas though, I keep thinking about the few we had together. All the ones we had imagined we would have in the future.
How much I suspected but dreaded that last year might have been his last Christmas and winter holidays with me; and how true it was.
I keep trying to remember the happy moments. How the awesome folks at ThinkGeek were to send him/us those gifts; they gave us his last Christmas.
I've been thinking about them lately, how kind they were to him, and us. My grief takes my words now sometimes, so I cannot figure out how to describe how thankful I am to them. Still.
His last one was a happy one.
I take comfort in that, though it still brings me to tears.
The house seems so much more lonely. I have been keeping the television on downstairs because just hearing a bit of extra noise makes me feel a bit better right now.
I took down the inflatable (twin) guest bed, and Leto is not happy about that. Somehow in the last few months he has outgrown the catbed I bought a bit ago for him. It is comically small compared to him even when he sleeps in the smallest ball he can. He's been sleeping on the guest bed at times over the last few weeks and I believe seems to have thought that was his new bed.
He lies down in the same spot in the room and will squeak at me.
He has been giving me a lot of comfort these past days/weeks.
He feels like a part of Wash that is still living.
The house gets emptier. Boxes to go out to be mailed to friends, or donated. Still so much more to go through. I manage so far to get through it in spurts.
It's putting me back in that state of shock I felt shortly after his passing; these holidays.
My mind hurts and numbs at the thought of waking up Christmas Eve and Christmas Day without him next to me.
No making coffee or special breakfasts. My family is suddenly so much smaller, that my mind just denies the idea of a "family" gathering without him. I keep trying, but the very act of just trying to imagine what that day will hold, what I would say, do, feel; becomes so overwhelming my brain just tells me it is not true.
I fear being around people who are happy at this time. I fear being the one to "bring them down". To be the reminder now of mortality. To have any of my true emotions come through, to still grieve, while others might be trying to celebrate. So many fears.
My brain says "Would it not be better for everyone else to just stay at home, out of sight and mind so others can have their normality?"
I do not know the answer.
I know there is something to make me smile that day; a nice surprise sent by friends. I will find out in two days.
It is a small thing, but I have a bit of Hope that after the New Year I will have the intense bereavement tide down, with less reminders of the big life events not to happen.
How has a year passed already?
How is it that it will be four months in a few weeks since he passed?
Time seems to be more bendy for me lately.
It passes fast, it creeps by, it stalls.
I've gone from living the last three years of my life in the moment, day to day; never knowing when might be his last with me. Never really being able to have any sort of long term plan; at all.
Now, I have to go back, so far back, and start again.
I am so tired.
So uncertain and scared.
I barely recall what it is like to wake up alone these days, end of December.
Full of longing.
I dislike night-time of late.