It’s been 3 months (and 3 days) since my house got a little quieter. Right now it feels like so much more time has passed than a mere 3 months. I’ve already had a lifetime of new ‘firsts’ without Eric. First time sleeping in our bed alone, first time watching our favorite tv show alone…you get the picture. Firsts of every mundane activity that you wouldn’t normally think twice about. Not to mention all the firsts with Arie. (He’s currently working on walking. He’s taken a few “steps”, but I’m a harsh critic and refuse to count them as actual walking.) I knew the three month mark was coming up, and thought about it here and there for the days leading up to it, but I forgot on the actual day! Seems like a good thing to me, so I’m claiming it as a win. The actual date doesn’t really affect (effect? I can never remember) me as much as other things do, so I don’t find myself dreading the 23rd, or anything like that. It’s more just a marker of time…which seems to simultaneously move rapidly and crawl, as with most major life events.

One of the odd firsts I’m dreading is going out to a new restaurant. Doesn’t that sound ridiculous!? I believe I may have mentioned this before, but Eric and I LOVED food. Trying new (often ethnic) restaurants, watching Food Network, making our favorite Voeden recipes, we even created our own food tour/trip of Nashville. So now thinking of going out to a new restaurant makes me both happy and sad. I’m sure I’ll cry…which won’t have been the first (or last) time that has happened at a restaurant. Sorry waitresses! Excellent tip coming your way!

I’ve also been missing all the medical teams lately. The nurses, doctors, techs, etc. from Grand Rapids and U of M. Most of them at Spectrum (Grand Rapids) became more friend than caretaker. You would think I’d dread the hospital, but it feels more like a home I haven’t visited in a while. One of my friends is getting a bone marrow/stem cell transplant at U of M next week, and texting with her this morning I told her that I wanted to come visit, but was nervous about how being back would make me feel. I’m sure it will be fine, as the anticipation often seems to be the worst part. But those pesky dual emotions keep rearing their heads again and again…missing the people, but nervous to go back… As with most things these days, I will have to try and face it head on, lest the fear overwhelm me.

Here’s my brutal honestly for the day, and then I’ll stop rambling, as this post has become fairly jumbled. My emotional stability is much like a pinball machine…bouncing all around, up and down, here and there. I’ve been thinking of Eric’s death a lot lately…like the actual physical act. (Heinous, I know.)  It’s overwhelming, thinking of holding his hand, hearing his last breath, and feeling his heart stop beating. At my best, during these memories, I never want anyone else to ever feel this pain, and at my [shouldn’t even admit it] worst, I want everyone to know this feeling. There it is – the (current) worst of me. Misery loves company is a saying for a reason, right? And if I’m not honest about it, then how will me going through this experience help anyone? So judge away, I don’t blame you. But when I do find myself in that horrible dark place, all I have to do is take a deep breath, mentally take a physical step back in my memory and picture the whole room. Not just Eric in front of me, but the entirety of the room behind us. Filled with enough love to combat a thousand broken hearts. So many people, friends and family, all walking through Hell together, waiting to one day be reunited again in Heaven.