Dear Ian - Year 4
Dear Ian,
Today marks 4 years since you left us.
Somehow, this year seem to hurt more than the last couple. It might be that I was floating along, oblivious to just how much this anniversary date was affecting me. Until about Wednesday. Then it was like a punch in the the stomach and I can't seem to *stop* thinking about it. I think that I still miss your presence as least once every day.
This whole last year has been a struggle for me. I had two surgeries, one on both of my feet and then on that stupid bum knee of mine. I am still recovering from the knee surgery. It has proven to be much harder than I anticipated. I promoted at work. Jessica and I are working in the same office again. It has been going really well.
I have some really, really sad news though. Last June, I took Loki in to get her teeth cleaned and she needed a tooth pulled. They put her under anesthesia and her heart rate dropped and then stopped. I broke down at work when they told me. I didn't expect it at all. She was fine and cuddly and sweet the night before. I never imagined that she would never come home again. My boss sent me home that day. I was a complete wreck. And when I had time to really let it sick in, it was like losing the last living piece of our life together. It was like losing you all over again to some degree.
I know how much you loved her. And so did I. I cried like a little girl while typing that. It still hurts. So much still hurts.
I was driving to therapy on Friday. It is a 30 minute drive from my house. I think that I cried 3 or 4 times. I drove past Bonfyre Grill and started thinking about our Valentine's Day dinner mere days before you took your own life. I thought about the phone call from your mom and John and the words that I heard over the phone and how my body just gave out from under me when I got the news. I envisioned what you may have looked like when they found you. I thought about the look on your face that last night I saw you, after we kissed.
Part of me feels like I am so weak for still being so sad. I talked about it with my therapist Friday. He assured me that I am not. But I battle with how and feel and fear of being judged for those emotions.
Your mom and I still connect several times a year. We often talk about you for at least part of our time together. I am very grateful to have her in my life still. I feel like she is one of the few people that really understands what I am feeling and going through.
I want to remember you and smile. It's hard.
Other random things: I finally decided what to do with the money you left me. I think you would be proud and happy with my decision. I adopted a little black and white kitten. I was having trouble naming her and Brett helped come up with a name that I really loved: Glitch. Holy shit I'm going to be 40 this year. For real this time. Not like the facebook party invite that you sent out. KB got married to a really great dude. And KB and I have a really fun project that we started working on.
I wish you were still here.
I love you.
I miss you.
I hope you're at peace.
Love,
Meredith
Today marks 4 years since you left us.
Somehow, this year seem to hurt more than the last couple. It might be that I was floating along, oblivious to just how much this anniversary date was affecting me. Until about Wednesday. Then it was like a punch in the the stomach and I can't seem to *stop* thinking about it. I think that I still miss your presence as least once every day.
This whole last year has been a struggle for me. I had two surgeries, one on both of my feet and then on that stupid bum knee of mine. I am still recovering from the knee surgery. It has proven to be much harder than I anticipated. I promoted at work. Jessica and I are working in the same office again. It has been going really well.
I have some really, really sad news though. Last June, I took Loki in to get her teeth cleaned and she needed a tooth pulled. They put her under anesthesia and her heart rate dropped and then stopped. I broke down at work when they told me. I didn't expect it at all. She was fine and cuddly and sweet the night before. I never imagined that she would never come home again. My boss sent me home that day. I was a complete wreck. And when I had time to really let it sick in, it was like losing the last living piece of our life together. It was like losing you all over again to some degree.
I know how much you loved her. And so did I. I cried like a little girl while typing that. It still hurts. So much still hurts.
I was driving to therapy on Friday. It is a 30 minute drive from my house. I think that I cried 3 or 4 times. I drove past Bonfyre Grill and started thinking about our Valentine's Day dinner mere days before you took your own life. I thought about the phone call from your mom and John and the words that I heard over the phone and how my body just gave out from under me when I got the news. I envisioned what you may have looked like when they found you. I thought about the look on your face that last night I saw you, after we kissed.
Part of me feels like I am so weak for still being so sad. I talked about it with my therapist Friday. He assured me that I am not. But I battle with how and feel and fear of being judged for those emotions.
Your mom and I still connect several times a year. We often talk about you for at least part of our time together. I am very grateful to have her in my life still. I feel like she is one of the few people that really understands what I am feeling and going through.
I want to remember you and smile. It's hard.
Other random things: I finally decided what to do with the money you left me. I think you would be proud and happy with my decision. I adopted a little black and white kitten. I was having trouble naming her and Brett helped come up with a name that I really loved: Glitch. Holy shit I'm going to be 40 this year. For real this time. Not like the facebook party invite that you sent out. KB got married to a really great dude. And KB and I have a really fun project that we started working on.
I wish you were still here.
I love you.
I miss you.
I hope you're at peace.
Love,
Meredith