It’s a funny thing the strength that comes from family and love. Through the pain, you have snippets of joy and normalcy. The waves of emotion are constant, but the support is unwavering.
The day before his service, in August, we spent some quality time together at the hotel. There was joy, there was laughter, there was underlying of nervousness in the air.
The next morning, the reality of our visit was acknowledged head on. The tone of happy disappeared and strength and support came in. Life is hard. These moments are hard. Nothing prepares you for this, nothing. The experience of seeing Chris’ headstone for the first time was earth shattering. It broke our hearts. It’s the thing, for me, that made it real.
These days are struggles of immense emotion and relentless grief. So much sadness on this day and so much love.
We lived through it, not sure how but we did.
We celebrated his life at one of his favorite spots and the joy slowly came back. We had a great life to celebrate and pay tribute to. We kept thinking, he would have loved this party. All his favorite people around him. It was as perfect as it could be.
We miss him every day. My day begins and ends with thoughts of Chris. He’s always near. A tribute post will come, but it’ll have to wait for my heart to be ready.