After a death, there are many points in the calendar that will speak of the passage of time. Birthdays are one of them.
Last year, there were many of these milestones that came and went, it was five years since their death, and Bella would have been ten. You have seen over the years my struggle with Jesse. You have seen me come to as much peace as I will ever have, with the vascilation of mourning just him, having understanding and compassion of the brain disease that he realistically fought from a young age, to hating him for taking my beautiful innocent sweet girl with him.
I don’t talk of him often, it’s a hard balance. It is not that I don’t think of him, I do, I just don’t share it. I am happily remarried. I am focusing on working at that everyday, as one must do in a marraige, and working on the things that I need to keep myself in balance in my life and marraige. It is not fair to talk about Jesse too much. I do occasionally, and F understands and supports to the best of his ability. But it is not kosher to talk about the things you miss about your dead husband who happened to kill your daughter then himself, leaving a train wreck of lives left behind.
After they died, every “should”, “would”, and “what if” scenario entered my brain. Through the years, everyday, I wonder what Bella would be like. Everyday, there is a moment, or several of the heart wrenching and stomach dropping that happens with the loss of her. With Jesse, it has been a much different journey. After he died, I missed and hated him every single minute of the day, vascilating between the two. As time has passed, as I said above, I am at as much peace as I will ever get. I don’t often ruminate on the endless possibilities of the “what if’s” and “what would it be’s”. There are so many unknown factors that play into those. Plus, I am focusing on the life I have now, while managing that train wreck.
Jesse had so many amazing qualities. He was a great friend, a loving family member, a doting and loving parent, and mostly an amazing husband. Mostly, well, because his brain disease caused him to do some pretty dumb things (putting it lightly). He loved birthdays, and I still remember the party we had at the house for his 30th. He was in his glory for things like that. Today, I am allowing space for all the memories that I cherish, and for a day, boxing the memories that make it so heart breaking, hard and complicated. I am focusing on the memories that made me fall in love and marry him. The memories of us as a family. The memories of him as a father. The memories that make me miss him.
When we lose those we love, we don’t just mourn the person they were, we mourn all the possibilities of who they would have been, as an individual, and in relation to ourselves. We mourn a path whose possibility has been erased.
Today, I especially am wishing for the peace and happiness that he struggled with so much in his life, that is my birthday wish for him.
