I sat in the dark last night, with my computer on my lap, looking at your picture. It was your eyes that kept me drawn in. I felt perhaps if I looked in them long enough and hard enough, I would see you smile at me, that perhaps you wouldn't be gone.
I do that sometimes honey. I guess its self preservation, or something. I think in my mind "He's not really dead. He's just at home." And then the reality shines through and I know you're not home; not in Alaska anyway. With that realization comes the pain and when it strikes, I pick up my Kindle and I start to read. A few nights ago, I read an entire book throughout the night to ward off the hurt. So I read, and while I read my mind doesn't let me remember you and your dad are gone. Then, it all builds up, like a pressure cooker that has reached the point where if steam isn't released, it will blow apart. The tears start, and my heart breaks.
"Get hold of yourself," I tell myself. "Do you think you're the only one who's lost ones they love? It happens everyday. It has happened since the beginning of time and it will happen until time as we know it ends. You shouldn't be causing your children to worry about you. That's not right for you to do."
"I know," I tell myself. "That's why I wait until it's dark; when they are all asleep."
"You really think they don't know? You think they don't see the difference? You're an adult, Susie. You need to pull yourself together. You know what Danny would say 'Get up and get busy. It will make you feel better'. Do what you need to do for yourself to pull yourself together."
So I listen to myself be chastised by myself then reach over and pick up my Kindle.
I know I'll make it through this. I will for your sons and for your siblings. I don't know how long it's going to take. I need to stop being wrapped up in me, for I know if someone is wrapped up in themselves, they make a very small package.
So I sit down at my computer and I write. I write letters to you or to your dad, for right now, I can't seem to write anything else, and for me, writing is my coping mechanism.
I love you honey. I miss you so much. I miss your dad so much. Life seems so long today.