I made it.
The year of firsts is finally over, and I got through it. The night of the 12th was the hardest, although yesterday was rough too. I cried a lot, lit a candle, and wished all the voice mails I’d saved hadn’t been lost when I got a new phone last weekend. I heard from all of the kids except my oldest son, who hasn’t adjusted well to the loss of his father and is doubtless deep in his own funk. Neither did I hear from my sister. But otherwise, I feel very much loved, and my mood has remained steady throughout…thank God for good drugs.
What a relief it is to be done with this year. It doesn’t mean that future anniversaries won’t be difficult—I’ve got our wedding anniversary coming up and I know it will be a difficult day—but maybe it’ll be just a little less difficult than the first one was. Or not. The key is, I’ve proven to myself that I can make it through these tough times and come out stronger. It’s what Will would have wanted, and I comfort myself with the idea that he’s watching over me and is proud of me.
I miss him so much. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I half-expect him to come in with a nice strong cup of coffee and a loving smile. He was an early-morning person and was always cheerful because he’d been up for hours; this caused some friction in the early days of our marriage because I am definitely NOT a morning person. But over the years I came to appreciate his sunny outlook and tried to emulate it (with very little success, I might add). This was only one of the countless ways he loved me, and he made me a better person. I will always be grateful to him for that.