I picked the short straw.

I don't know what to write, I fear that I may be depressing.  After all it is the holidays and I should be joyful. But  for me (and so many others) they will never be the same again. I read a quote today on grieving and  it said, "Holidays, anniversaries, and birthdays will be hard forever. They are forever tarnished in my mind and heart, but I put on a facade for the kids. I want to provide that idyllic idea of Christmas.  Where everything is warm and fuzzy and shield them from the sorrow.  My mother hated the holidays, I never understood why, I just thought she was a grinch.  But now I understand, why they are so difficult for so many people who have lost a loved one.

One year ago to the day, Andrew and I were in the Emergency room at Winchester hospital.  He was brought in the ER for severe stomach pains and waited in the hallway to be seen by a nurse.  They did a CT scan to see if it was an appendicitis.  We waiting for hours in the hallway for the results.  I remember being so annoyed and frustrated that they would not give us a room even after I begged for hours. Andrew was in so much pain it was difficult to watch, and  I was pregnant and paranoid about getting sick from the other patients. It was the height of cold season and I am a bit of a germaphob.
After waiting for forever they had the results, and finally wheeled us into a room.  I was thankful, I thought they finally listened or cared about the pregnant lady and the sick man. But little did I know it was because they had to deliver the gut wrenching news of Andrews cancer. I can remember that day so vividly, like it happened yesterday.

I know I've said it so many times, but it still doesn't feel real that he's gone.

It's been an awful week.  It started out in the doctor's office getting a cough examined.  Isla had been hacking up a lung the day before and I wanted to make sure it was just a cough. It was a nasty head cold that is still lingering. She is on the mend, but keeps a box of tissues with her. :( And of course Graeme had the same cough, but his is about a day behind Isla's.  So I've had several sleepless nights this week. It's so difficult to function without sleep.

This is when I know he's really gone.  In the middle of the night when I am tending to Graeme and there is no one else to listen to me complain.  Or share in the experience, it's just me.  I can't say that Andrew would've been extremely helpful at 2am but just knowing someone else was there.  Someone who had my back. That's when the pain is real, that when my heart hurts.

So it's been an especially painful week, the kids being sick and the reality of Andrew's death is slowly sinking in.

Thanks for reading.
Karla