Yes, this is my life

Maybe I'm searching. Maybe it's just wishful thinking but he's with me everywhere I go. I get little signs. Little reminders of us. We were in IHOP this evening waiting for our carry out order when our song came on the overhead speakers. Manda Kira and I stopped for a minute and just smiled. I looked up and a customer came to the register to pay wearing a Marines hoodie. He looked at me and winked. We are nowhere near a base. Seeing a hoodie is unusual. Not like Camp Pendleton. The nearest base is 3 hours away and it's Army. It's just little moments that keep happening. We were together 11 years so maybe I can connect anything. Maybe I'm losing my mind. I don't know.  I miss him. He was intolerable sometimes and drove me nuts but he was MY grumpy husband. For better or worse, sickness and health. Until death....maybe even after?

Kira and I were sitting on my bed playing with her new toy and she asked if tomorrow was a school day. I told her yes but it's the last day and she has the weekend off. She told me she wishes it was 6 days. I told her she had to wait til Thanksgiving. Then a spark lit in her eyes. She said after that is CHRISTMAS! I started to ask what she was going to ask Santa for.... ...I knew the answer before it came from her lips and I felt my head pound and heart rate jump.  ...she wants Santa to bring Daddy home.... I had to tell her the truth. He can't do that but I miss him too. We all do. We talked about him and what we missed. Mas came in followed by Lu. We sat here on the bed and talked about how last Christmas Daddy spent all Christmas Day building all their gifts. It wasn't sad. It was a happy moment. I think we are going to be okay after all.  

Every morning I wake up and open my eyes, roll over and realize it wasn't a nightmare. He's dead. Not deployed. Not at work or in the bathroom. He's gone forever. It takes me at least 30 minutes to come to terms with it before getting out of bed. There was a rumor going around that my inlaws suspected me if killing my husband. I know I did not pull the trigger but I do feel I killed him in not saving him. If I could have stopped him, I would have. I'm incarcerated in my own mind. Locked up for not making him better.  Doctors call it "Survivors Guilt" I call it the lowest I've ever felt in 34 years.  Every morning I wake up and mentally walk into my prison cell. I've myself now been diagnosed with PTSD. The difference is I WILL get better. I am getting grief counseling and medication to overcome or at least catch up to this. Someday once the fog burns off I feel pretty good. Somedays I just stay in bed. Everyone is worried about me. They ask what I need

Now that I'm good and buzzed I'm going to take minute to be completely honest. I don't care what anyone says or thinks. They can fuck off.  You've ruined my life. I don't care that you were sick. I tried to get you help. I begged and pleaded with you to see a doctor. You took the easy way out and literally left me here to pick up the pieces.  I gave you 11 years and two kids and you and you threw it all away. You abandoned us. The gunshot will never leave my memory. Hearing the police tell me you were deceased rings in my ears. I am so incredibly pissed and sad. We will never be the same again. We have to go on with our lives knowing you're gone. I have to hold the kids when they cry for you and hide in the shower to cry for me. I'm empty. In one shot you took it all away from us. I forgive you but I will never get over this.

I loved being married. I enjoyed all the domestic things I did everyday. I kissed Mike goodbye when he left for work. I had lunch ready when he came home everyday. I made sure the house was clean and dinner was cooking when he walked in the door after work.  I only cooked for him. The kids would be completely content with ramen or a bowl of cereal for supper if they could get away with it. I got really good at making amazing dinners for him to try. He would tell me it was amazing and thank me even if he hated it. My favorite time of night was the quiet time just after the kids went to bed. Usually we would be playing our respective phone games but we were there together.  It was a mundane routine life but I was content. Even on the days his temper was short, he was moody and just really hard to please. It was our life. All I ever wanted was to be a good mom and wife. I tried my hardest to make great memories for our family. Don't get me wrong, I had flaws. I was unorganized. Easily

At 11:17 tonight it will be a month he's been gone. I am not angry today. Sad, lonely and feeling abandoned. His death has had an effect on me in so many ways. My self confidence is at an all time low. I tried so hard to help him.  My rational brain says he was sick and it wasn't my fault but my heart says I should have been a better wife. I should have given him more of a reason to stick around. There was no goodbye. No chance for me to plead with him to stay. He left no note. No closure at all. I was married to him for almost 11 years. He and the kids were my life. I dropped everything to follow him, happily, wherever the Marines sent us. Now, there is no kiss goodbye every morning. I don't make him lunch. I have to stop myself from making purchases for him at the grocery store. I still pull a plate  out for him at dinner time.  I've never been alone. I don't know how to do it. I've never made a choice without considering his opinion. I feel empty.  The season

It's been a month since he died. I can't remember dreaming since. Last night was the first dream I can recall and it was a doozy. I dreamed that the whole experience, his death, the way he died...it was all a dream. Mike was laughing at me for being so hysterical. (Which is so him btw) he said "I didn't go anywhere. I'm right here!" I woke up rolled over and there was someone next to me. For a split second I though it was all a dream! I looked closer. It was my 14 year old son. I got out of bed made a cup of coffee and had my morning cry. I think I'd rather not dream at all. 

Read Me First On September 15th at 11:17pm my husband committed suicide. I was standing just on the other side of the garage door when it happened. The shot rings in my ears even as I type. I knew it was a close range shot. There was no echo just silence. For a moment I froze. Time stood still. My kids were asleep just ten feet away from the door. It was a great Sunday, I made a Fall wreath for the front door, baked a fabulous chicken. Just a usual Sunday, really. Except Mike seemed a bit off. Anxious. More than his usual. That evening after the kids went to bed my sister and I were doing facials in her room. Laughing and goofing around as we do. When my clay mask dried I went into the bathroom to wash it off. Mike paced in and out twice before I asked him if he needed anything. He looked at me with a stare that I didn't recognize and said "I want you and the kids to have a beautiful life." He walked across the hall into our room and closed the door. I was puzzle