Dear Bernadette,
A year ago today, I sat at the foot of your hospital bed and listened as Mike whispered a goodbye to you. We weren't prepared. I know people say you never really can be, but we just thought we had more time. You thought you had more time.
A year ago today, I sat at the foot of your hospital bed and listened as Mike whispered a goodbye to you. We weren't prepared. I know people say you never really can be, but we just thought we had more time. You thought you had more time.
Yesterday we drove out to Freeport and gathered on a boat with the rest of the family to celebrate you, to say another goodbye. After last week, the late nights and the secret crying sessions in bathroom stalls, we weren't sure how things would go. There were tears as we lowered the urn into the water, but the hours out on the ocean were beautiful, and we even managed to laugh. (Timmy was there with us, of course we laughed.)
I feel guilty sometimes for missing you as much as I do. I feel like I shouldn't be allowed to be as sad as I am since you weren't mine. I still can't really know what the past 365 days have felt like for Mike and Sam and Mary if it hurts like this for me, but maybe it's my love for them that makes things so hard.
Thank you for everything you continue to be for us. We love and miss you, but you are never far from us.
Onward full tilt we go to day 366,
Caitlin
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Thinking of you, dear.
ReplyDeleteThis: "I feel guilty sometimes for missing you as much as I do. I feel like I shouldn't be allowed to be as sad as I am since you weren't mine."
ReplyDeleteI completely understand this. Last fall someone very close to my husband's family passed away. I had known him for more than 10 years, but my grief over it feels wrong, like it doesn't belong to me. Of course it does - but I understand the feeling.
I'm so glad you had that outing all together.