July 25, 2016

Stigma #3. Well, it’s been over a year..she should be over her husband’s death by now. I think about Brett every day..Today would have been our 8th anniversary. It’s eerie to be at home, alone…not traveling with Brett. I didn’t think anything could possibly get any worse than the first year…but I was wrong. The second year is a different kind of worse. The smoke has cleared and I’m no longer in denial of Brett’s death. I now struggle on a daily basis knowing that I can’t see, hear, touch, taste, and smell my husband. I still cry out for him, but there is nothing. Everyone’s life seems to go on and mine seems stuck most days. I’m trying to figure out who I am, what I’m doing, and where am I going. I’m not writing today to get your hugs, likes, or prayers. I want to show people what a final decision looks like to the ones you leave behind. Time does not heal all wounds…Time can nurture your wounds, but there will always be a scar. I think I’m done now…I’m going to skip working out today and buy myself a pancake.Brett 10

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