Tomorrow will be 6 years since Jared died.
6 long years.
Yesterday.
And forever.
Typically for me the day before is the hardest day. The day before his borthday The grief hits like a tsunami. Sucker punches me in the gut and knocks me to my knees.
But today is different.
I’m missing Jared. Wishing he was here. Wondering what he would think of our lives today. But it’s not deep gut wrenching grief of years past.
And that makes me feel guilty.
Guilty that I’m not missing him enough. Guilty that I am here and he is not. Guilty that my life has moved forward.
Guilt is a powerful emotion. One most widows know all too well. One that often causes me much angst.
Guilt that I rebuilt my life after Jared’s death. Guilt that I found new love. Guilt that I get to spend each day with our son and he doesn’t.
Instead of focusing on the guilt, I’m trying to focus on the amazing man Jared was. Remember all the wonderful we experienced together.
Today I am trying to focus on the happiest memories. His laugh, his smile, his blue eyes. The love we share. The way he made me feel. The amazing dad he was to our son. The way he looked at Steven with such pride, love, and adoration. The amazing adventures we shared. The priceless memories we made.
The 16 years I spent with Jared were some of the best of my life. Gave me the most joy. Showed me how to really live. Taught me how to love without ceasing. Time will never erase that.
And that is something to be proud of, not feel guilty about.
And yet I feel guilty.
And beat myself up for not being more upset. More grief stricken. More lost today.
Instead of focusing on the happy, here I am beating myself up and feeling guilty. Jared would tell me to stop. Stop and focus on the good. The positive. Embrace the life we had and not feel guilty for the life I have now.
Tomorrow will be 6 years since Jared died.
Yesterday.
And forever.
I am going to do my best to honor the life we shared together. Focus on all the joy we shared. Never forget the love we will always share. With as little guilt as possible.