Five months, pen to paper

 I've been struggling with my writing a lot lately. As always, I have so many things I want to do, but rarely find myself doing them. Lately, when I sit down to write, I'm too spent to really try to get anything out.

 What I have been doing, is living.

 It took a while to get to that point again. Right now, we at Five Months, and I'm realizing many things are better. The kids and I are getting to a spot I couldn't have concieved of a few months ago.

 Being ready for the future. I've been looking at houses now. It's kind of exciting, and liberating, in a way. Your old dreams are taken from you, but you still have new ones. Beginning to realize those new dreams are a welcome feeling. Meg is still trying to get me to buy a house close to some of her friends. We'll see.

 It's good starting to feel life happening again. When it happens, you realize how dead inside you'd become. The difference between living and existing are pretty incredible.

 You get to the point where you realize life is still going on, and your story is still being written. We still never know the ending till we get there.

 Some plot twists are harder to deal with then others, but we can still hope for a happy ending. I know I am.

 So I'm living. I'm putting the pen to paper and writing the next book in the series. I still don't know where it will take us, but I'm excited for my tomorrows for the first time in a while. I'm excited to see what the next page brings.


 On another note, as far as this blog goes, the story has been written. I'll have a few more entries here, specifically after we spread her ashes, and after the celebration of life. Those are technically the afterword to look at it in a literary manner.

 I'm going to focus on the story, the life that I'm writing now. So, if you want, feel free to follow it here.
 I don't know where it will go, but I have hope. Either way, it's being written.

                                                                                                                    -Aaron
Nothing is Trivial.

Three months, and healing.

 So yesterday made three months since Robin passed.

 I decided not to write yesterday. I decided to give it a little bit more thought, and really figure out how I'm doing. Lately, I'm less of a wreck than I have been, so I think that's promising.

 The kids and I have been doing things. Meg and I just started learning Japanese, and made a didgeridoo for her class.

 I still cry. I think that'll continue for a long time, but I feel like I'm waking up. I feel like I have my feet back under me, and i'm moving in a direction.

 We also started talking about the memorial service and life celebration today. As much as I hate talking about it, I think I've finally hit that point where I'm past thinking that ignoring it will make it better. It hurts, but we are pushing through it.

 I've also started thinking about the future, or, at least without feeling horrible guilt for it. Survivor's Guilt really is a bitch. It was worse right after, when any time something made me smile, I felt terrible and just wanted to lay down and die.
 These days, there are pangs, but the realization hit that I still have a lot of story left in front of me, and as much as I don't want to keep walking, the swamps of sorrow will swallow me it I let them.

 The pamphlet the hospital sent, said it would be something like this, though, it truth, I only skimmed it.

 After a lot of looking, and asking for advice, the most common answer I usually got was, "I don't know what to say," which I completely respect, because there really are enough bullshit books out there telling us what to think.

 My thoughts lean more towards this process being unique for everyone. I look at my family, and a few people internalized it, a few avoided it. Meg turned her focus towards hobbies and staying busy. Logan tried to understand it sweetly in his way, and I don't know what Morgan is doing, bless her baby heart.

 I got angry, and then sad. Then I felt guilt, anger again, and then soul rending depression. I waited to die, I wrote emo poems about it like I did in high school. I cried, and yelled at God. I pointed out that if He was listening this time, I still don't know what the hell He was doing. Going back to work, because I just had to look at people who far more deserved pain and death than my wife.

 Then, one day it was all a little better. God and I still don't talk much, but that's alright. I still believe He's out there, I just question why, and if He listens. I also accept that I don't have the answers.

 But, one day it was better than the day before. I also realize that I will grieve her forever in a part of my heart. The rest of me needs to try to live though, no matter how much I may or may not want to that day. I'm still here and I have shit to do.

 I started reaching out to my friends again, and that has helped me, though it does tend to be the gorilla in the room. I tend to push past it first. My friends are helping remember how living felt, and I that them daily for that.

 So, today, Three months and one day later, I guess I am getting back to living, a baby step at a time.



Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

  -William Earnest Henley

Two Months

 So,
 As of today, it has been two months. I realize, in my head, that she's gone, but it feel like every day my heart figures it out anew.

 I think sometimes, that the reason it goes like that is to protect our sanity. The things our brains can't process, it just kind of glosses over. When you try to think about it, your brain just kind of stops.

 It think it is a lot like what Lovecraft described. That some things, the human mind can't deal with, so it either breaks, or shuts the idea out.

 As far as the day to day things, life has fallen back into a more 'normal' rhythm. I'm working out again, the kids are all back to their routines.

 I just keep thinking eventually it will get better.

 I keep hoping for a text from beyond the veil. Or a voice.

 I'm not holding my breath though.

 I miss you honey.

A New Year

 2011...

 What to say about this year.

 This was the hardest year of my life so far. We started it out full of hope, and by the end, all that hope was gone.
 We started it as a family of five, a dog and three cats. Now, it's just me, the kids and the cats.

 Losing Robin, and losing Lily right before that was a huge soulcrushing blow.

 Now, the pieces are mostly picked up, and things are starting to get back to normal. I have to say I'm glad the holidays are over now. Thanksgiving was a wash. Christmas was good, but tough emotionally.

 Last night was more difficult than I expected it to be.

 Meg wanted to stay up until midnight, and she did well there. She was, surprisingly, in a good mood the whole evening. Logan passed out in a chair around 10, and Morgan went to bed at 8:30 like she usually does.
 After the kids were all in bed, the realization crept in that I was starting this new year alone. Not alone alone, but without Robin. When I talk to her pictures, and meditate deep in my memories, it's almost like she isn't gone, just not here presently.

 Last night I felt alone. Facing a brand new year as a single father is intimidating. We had been a team for so long, and it's shitty to think about a whole year of good and bad that I don't get to share with her. I thought about everything we shared this past year. The parts where we really lived, where we took hold of live with both hands and lived it hard were really good. Those memories overshadow the sickness. I wish we had done the whole year like that, but when you are holding on to hope, you expect it will end well.

So we have a new year, fresh off of the bad end of last year. All I can do is try as hard as I can to make it not suck. It's already starting out better than last year, because we have already hit that low point. Every day since then has been steadily better.

 So, with that in mind, I kissed all my children. I said my prayers over them, and went to bed.

 I don't know what this year will bring. But life is going to get what i'm going to give it this year, no matter what it does bring.

'Tis the Season

 So,
Christmas, and the upcoming new year have been tougher than I'd expected. I'm not sure what I expected, but it was good, and I thin it sucked because it was good.

 Robin always loved Christmas, I think because she enjoyed giving things to others so much. She really loved it after we had kids. When we were poor(er) we always made it a point to get stuff for the kids, usually at the cost of something for each other.
 When we were doing better, we did the same thing. Her delight in giving rubbed off on me too. It's just something she enjoyed. Even towards the end, as sick as she was, she wanted me to load up a visa shopping card so she could buy me a present, and I wouldn't see the receipt.

 Just another in the long list of things we never got to do.

 But I focused on the kids this Christmas. I got them the things they asked for. Through the generosity of a lot of people I work with, presents from a mysterious Santa arrived at the house. So the Christmas for the kids was pretty big this year.

 We talked a lot about the real meanings of Christmas, and Christ's Sacrifice. We also talked a lot about feelings and enjoying the Holidays, even without Robin around.

 I've been focusing on trying to be patient with the kids. I don't know how I could possibly do it without my Mother-in-law. I feel bad that we are such a burden, but she has been a real blessing.

 The biggest change I've noticed in myself lately, is that I'm praying less. I start to, and then the feelings creep in. Bitterness, anger, sadness, disbelief, others. The feelings wash over me. Sometimes I yell. Usually I cry. Then it's over. I tried to pray, but didn't get very far.

 What I do find myself doing is talking to Robin. She doesn't answer, but I imagine her there, listening to me. I tell her about the things the kids did, I tell her about the things I did at work. I tell her about the things I want to accomplish.

 Then I feel like an ass. All we wanted to do was grow old together, and be those cute, in love old people.

 But you can't always get what you want. All you can do is move on. I think once the Holidays are over, it will be easier to deal with it again. It hurts now though.

 Soon it will be a new year though, and it can't come soon enough.

Merry Christmas

What a change from last year.

 Last year we were still figuring out her surgery, chemo schedule.

 This year, she's looking down on us from Heaven.

 I'm not sure how emotional it will be tomorrow, because Christmas was always Robin's favorite Holiday. We always managed to do it up pretty well, so I decided to carry that on this year.

 I focused on my children, because I wanted to show them we can still go on and enjoy it, and give to each other, even with it being so different. It will be rough, and I've been pretty depressed lately, but we are gonna make it through.

 I feel for all my friends deployed over Christmas, and all my friends who are going in to work tomorrow, instead of being with their families.

 The suck is still the suck, even if you are stateside.

 I'm sitting down to a little bit of Christmas cheer, and eventually sleep will come.
Tomorrow I'll enjoy my family, and I'll see what the future brings.

 2012 is going to be a better year, even if the world ends, or we have a zombie apocalypse.

16 years. (1m10d)

 Today is the anniversary of my first date with Robin. It was in 1996. I don't think either of us knew what we were getting into. I certainly didn't

 Sixteen years later, after almost 12 years of Marriage, 3 beautiful children. After joy, pain, frustration, fear and sadness, I still love her.

 You never know what you are in for when you open your heart to someone. I found the love of my life.

 Too bad true happiness can never be in this world. True passion burns so hot that the gods become jealous and take it from us.

 That's the writer in me saying that, but it's true.

 Shakespeare agrees with me.

 I miss you honey. One hundred years wouldn't have been enough, so I can only be thankful for what we had.

 I'm sorry I took you to see Beavis and Butthead, but I was am, and will probably always be, a jackass.

Thank You (1m5d)

 I have gotten to the point where I'm ready to sit down and start on my thank-you cards. I had started them several times before, but I never got very far. The emotions they brought up were just a little too much for me to sit there and go through them.

 Now, though, I think I'm ready. I'm at the point now where I am having a much easier time discussing things with people, and just talking about things, especially the Holidays is coming a lot easier.

 I think the scar tissue is growing, and I'm thankful for it. I still have moments. pretty much daily, but I accept them, let them happen and then move on.

 It's still the little things I miss most. The conversations, holding hands when we watch television, random hugs throughout the day. The little stuff like that. The one that usually gets the tears flowing is when something the kids do makes me laugh, and I want to tell her about it. Then I remember.

 All in all though, I think I'm doing well. I think the whole family is doing better. I've realized that I'm having a hard time reconciling things with God, mostly because it hurts that she had to suffer so much. I accepted that she was dying, so instead I prayed that she wouldn't suffer.

 But she did. It was the hardest thing I ever did to watch that and hold her hand and try to comfort her through it. In the end, I almost feel betrayed.

 I realize it's because I'm heartbroken. I wish she could have talked to me at the end. But that last day, all she could manage was: "I love you", "Amen", and a laugh. That still hurts, especially sine I miss talking with her pretty much more than anything.

 I'll get through it though. I still pray. I pray a lot. I'm not expecting answers, I'm just voicing my opinions and feelings. This too shall pass.

 The biggest thing I wanted to say today, hence the title, was thank you. I want to send out my heartfelt thanks for all the prayers and contributions and kind words of support. The biggest blessing through all this was the love that was shown to Robin, my family and I through all of this. That was the biggest impact.

 It is amazing, and humbling to have the amount of love poured out on us that we had. No thank you notes I can write will ever capture that, or even reach everyone who gave of themselves.

 So I figured saying thank you here, where so many of you discovered our struggle, is as good a start as any.

 Thank you all.

One Month Out

 So far I have been doing well with slowing down on posting. I ended up taking a bit of a break from my writing to focus on Christmas and whatnot with the holidays coming up. That has worked out pretty well. I feel like I decompressed a bit, and I think I'm ready to start work on some of my bigger projects.

 A month out. I can hardly believe it.

 As much as we think, in those moments of pain and loss, that we will never move past it, we do. We might not actively move forward for some time, but time keeps moving on. The wheel continues to grind forward, pushed ever on by enseen hands, and those sharp seeds are crumbled down as it passes over and over in it's travel.

 You wake up one day and find that you can start taking steps again. I've been back to work a little over a week now, and that's going well. It is restoring that sense of normalcy I'd been looking for for so long. It's funny, but the hardest part of my day is when I walk out to the car and check my phone.

 I find that I'm expecting to see a message from Robin, but it isn't there, it won't be there. It usually take a moment for everything to register, and it does. There is that pang of sadness, like the one I'm having while I write this, but I usually just take a deep breath, and finish what I was doing.

 I keep getting asked at work why I'm back so soon. I look at the calendar, and it was almost a month before I came back. I had been off almost a month before she died as well. I guess what I'm saying, is to me, it felt like a much longer time. Add to that the sense of guilty relief that comes when someone who has been sick for a while passes on, and to me it felt like a lot longer stretch of time. It felt as if months passed.

 You might ask what I mean by guilty relief, but I can't think of a better way to put it. Robin was sick for a year, and I had to watch her slowly die. At the end, she had lost so much, and I knew it was a relief for her. It was a relief for us as well. But you feel guilty. You feel guilty for feeling glad that it's over. But in the end, you start to get rid of that guilt, when you realize that it's alright to have that sense of relief. It was a long, hard, painful road, but you are at the end of it. Your loved one isn't with you at the finish line, as they have moved off to the winner's circle, so you don't have them to share those feelings with.

 I think you have to embrace that feeling, and it's hard to do that. We can embrace it because of Hope. We can rest on that Hope, because we know are loved ones are waiting for us with God, and someday we will join them.

 Any of you who know me, know that I feel that faith is a very personal thing. It is between you and God, however you feel about Him. He is on the other side of the equation waiting on you to make a choice. No one can do it for you. That is your personal Faith. My Faith, and my inner strength, and the strength from Robin and my family and friends is what has carried me through this. Emotionally, it has been, and will be a rollercoaster. My Faith has stayed strong, though. I may have had questions, and anger, and hurt; I still do, and I'm sure I will for some time. But I still have my faith.

 If I didn't, I know I wouldn't be here now, writing still. I'd rather be with her, away from the pain, but like one of my friends told me: "Your story isn't done yet. You still have shit to do."

 So here we are, a month out. How do I feel about it? I'm still sad, but the wounds are beginning to scar over. I have a life to continue with, and a story to keep writing.

 I have a Christmas to make spectacular for my children. And their smiles and hugs and "I love you's" make it easier to keep going.

Day 20. Working through it, thoughts, etc.

 You might have noticed that I've been slowing down a little bit with this blog. I guess it's because I'm speeding up back in life now. I've been working on sorting through our room, sorting her clothes, and going through pictures and stuff.

 I've started to feel that writing this blog daily is causing me to dwell on things more. So, I think I'll move to a freer updating schedule on this, and get back to updating my other blog. If I could find a way to condense everything into one blog, that would probably solve the problem.

 I have a hard time not compartmentalizing things.

 I think it's the natural evolution of things. I am moving through my grief. Not that you ever move through it completely. It's open ended and there is no time frame. You learn how to live with it. Live in spite of it. It's a part of you, but instead of indulging it, you let the flare ups pass like smoke in a breeze.

 Like the rest of life, it is a dynamic process. It changes.

 So, I'm not sure where the road heads, but I have to look forward. I'll still always look back to remember, but the way lies ahead.

Day 17. Where to go from here.

 So yesterday was one of those days. Most of the day was decent, but like one of my friends told me a few weeks ago, it gets easier, but you have those moments that ambush you. I had a few of those, and they mostly come when I think about the future and everything we strove for.

 I'm glad we didn't put off a lot of things. I'm especially glad we took that day and went to the beach. I was looking at the pictures from that day again and remembering. It was one of the last really good days.

 Now, I'm looking at the good days that will come in the future. I don't know what it holds. What I do know is that I have my kids, and we will forge the path together.

 I'm gonna get my bike this spring. No sense putting it off. The kids and I are going to see more movies and do more cool things whenever we get the chance.

 This week I'm going to start going through Robin's clothes. That will be tough, but she was never one to hold on to things. We watched too many episodes of Hoarders. The things have memories attached to them, but the things aren't what is special. The memories are special. The memories will remain.

 When my new computer gets here, I'll have enough memory to put all the pictures back onto it, so I can start working through all of them. That will be an open ended process. Luckily, we took a lot of pictures during our life, so I will have a lot of things to save for the kids.

 So the memories will always be there. Now we start making some new memories.

Day 16. Metal Therapy

 So last night, I went with my buddy Jon to the Five Finger Death Punch show. Which is also why I'm posting it this morning as opposed to last night. I wan't sure if I was going to go to the show after Robin died. That took a lot of internal struggle for me to decide what I was going to do. In the end, i obviously decided to go, and I'm glad I did.

 Robin always liked concerts, and whenever I commented that there was a band I liked coming by, she always told me to get tickets. I wish we had gone to more concerts together. So I decided to go to the concert. I don't think that not doing things because of grief helps us move through it. I think it's ok to avoid certain things that might cause you too much grief to enjoy, or you might ruin it for everyone.

 I feel we all get to a point where you have to make the choice to actively live again. Going back to work, doing those things you enjoy doing. Doing those things you enjoyed together. Don't let grief become your excuse not to live.

 I missed Robin during the show, I know she would have thought it was too loud anyway, but I still missed her being there. It was an awesome show, and I'm glad I went.

Day 15. Figuring out the new normal

 So today I took the kids out to the movies. With Morgan being so little, it's always up in the air how it will go, but Muppets do a good job of keeping children entertained. And adults for that matter.

 We had a great time. It is still strange realizing that it is just the four of us now, but we enjoyed having the time together. I made me sad Robin wasn't there for Morgan's first movie, though I think she was watching us.

 I guess that is the thing about healing. You have to start living again, doing the things you like to do and trying your best to enjoy it again. It makes it easier for me, since I have my kids, and they were the real joy of our life together, so when I'm spending time with them, I see Robin in all of them.

 I know time won't heal it, but at least it will all scar over. The little ambushes of grief, I can really compare to moving too much with a fresh wound, and it opens up again. Eventually, it'll get better, but it'll hurt for a long time. It won't ever be perfect again, but the scar will be tougher and thicker than your old skin.

 So there's that.

Day 14. Thanksgiving Makes Two Weeks

 So, for the first holiday without Robin, and the two week mark at the same time, it wasn't terrible, all things considered.
 We opted for a smaller, immediate family meal instead of the huge meal her family usually does, and it was nice. It was quiet. Her absence was noted though. I found myself doing all the talking, and I missed her complimenting her mom and dad on how wonderful the food was.
 I took up some of the slack there, as did everyone else, but it wasn't the same. She was always so quick with a compliment, or words of encouragement. That's just how her spirit was.
 All in all, though, we enjoyed the day. We shared a good meal, had good memories, and enjoyed what we had. We still have much to be thankful for, and it is important to remember that.

 What I'm most thankful for, as I said yesterday, is that Robin is not in pain anymore. That in the reality, and the true horror of cancer. Watching your loved on suffer, waste away and then die.

 She had said toward the end that she was just so tired of the pain. That is the true joy of my heart that that part is over.

 Now I just have to start gearing up for Christmas, which was always her favorite holiday. She always loved giving gifts, and making people happy, so I think I'll enjoy carrying that on. I have to do all the shopping myself, but hey, I have to do a lot of things myself now.

 I'll figure it out as I go. It got me this far.

Day 13. The Holidays

 I think the holidays are going to be rough this year. This will be our first holiday without her. I'm still not quite sure how to feel about it. I'm sad that she's gone, and I'm going to miss her. At the same time, the kids love the holidays, and I'm sure that will take some of the edge off.

 I'm not sure how Thanksgiving will effect me. I'm not looking at it like I have nothing to be thankful for this year. I still have so much to be thankful for. I have my three amazing children, I have the rest of my family, I have my job. I have my friends. And I have every memory Robin and I had together.

 I'm thankful that she has no pain any more. I'm thankful for the good days we had in spite of sickness. I'm thankful for every day we had. Which, as I just discovered come out to:

5438 days from when we started dating in 1996 or
130512 Hours, spent together, thinking of being together. or
7830720 minutes. That seems like a lot of small moments that became something wonderful. Or,
469843200 Seconds, even though it will never seem like enough.


The total of our time as a couple was 14 years, 10 months and 21 days. We were married for 11 years, 5 months and 14 days. So the way I see it, just looking at the raw numbers, I have a lot to be thankful for. 


 And I have 3 really good things to be thankful for.


 I think Thanksgiving will be better than I thought.


 In retrospect, we were pretty upbeat last Thanksgiving too. 


"You have to enjoy every day, or you will wake up and find you don't have many left."
                                                                                                                       -SF

Day 12. A Gray Day

 Today was nothing but rain and gloom. That doesn't do much for your mood. Today wasn't bad though.

 I think is everyone is starting to get over their colds, and that is good. We got some of the normal cleaning done today.

 Logan had a good day at school, and Meg decided she will sign up to play trumpet in the band. Morgan, well, Morgan took 2 hours to put to bed tonight, but that was really a first for her, so I can let it go.

 Meg had a good night at the Dojo, and I'm glad to see her back in class. I think it's a good way for her to move through things, that and all the other good things it imparts on a person.

 I pointed out to Meg that one thing Robin wanted to do when she got better was to come watch her at the dojo. I think she got the chance to do that today. We cried a little, and hugged, and remembered better days.

 Remembering better days seems to make the current days better. It's easier to move ahead when you are smiling in spite of everything.

Day 11. Dredging up memories

 Today was one of the better days. One of my friends gave me a gentle reminder of where strength comes in our lives. Strong people carry the light internally, and Robin expected me to be strong and live on because it is the right thing to do. Not because I promised her, or anything else. I will survive because it is what I need to do.

 So I spent time working through all our picture filed on the computer, and I moved them to my external drive. I spent a lot of time looking through the older files I had already had stored. I found a lot of pictures of old Thanksgivings and Christmases and summer days from when we lived at Fort. Meade.

 It's amazing how looking through old pictures, and living in memories for a while will send you back to the moment when they happened. Looking back and seeing Meghan as a child, playing with her mommy.

 Seeing Logan as a baby with his mommy. Seeing Morgan from a few years ago.

 The memories are what can't be taken. They are part of the light that give me strength.

 I sometimes come dangerously close to depression. That comes from letting myself indulge in grief, instead of realizing it, accepting it and moving past. Grief is a natural expression of loss, and we should grieve. It's healthy. What isn't healthy is when we hit the point we can't get past, and it consumes us.

 Just like when I almost let my anger consume me, but I moved past it; I won't let my grief consume me. I will move past it. I will be strong for the children because it is the right thing to do. I will miss her, but I will live through this.

Day 10. Day to day

 Today was the first day I went back to my martial arts class since Robin passed. I think that was a good healing time for me. It was basically the first "normal" I have had in a while. The part that I'm desperately trying to get used to is the fact that I don't have her here, physically, to tell about my day.

 That is going to be the big adjustment. Robin and I were one of those couples that did everything together. Everything. Shopping, reading, gaming. I can only think of a handful of times we didn't go to bed at the same time, and a lot of that was work. I think we went to bed angry twice.

 That isn't to say we never fought. He had our rough times, several years of them in fact. The difference was, we pulled it together, grew up and made everything work. We remembered why we got married in the first place. I can truthfully say we loved each other to the end.

 All in all, today was a better day. The kids and I are adjusting to living our life as it is now. It will be a day to day thing, but I believe we will get through it. We don't have a choice.

 I will mourn her for a long time, but I'll be strong, because I promised her I would.

Day 9. Bittersweet Recognition

 So I got a call from our local newspaper, and it appears they have come across my blog through this. They want to interview me. So, this gives me another platform to get Robin's story out to the world. I don't miss the irony that I am getting recognition for writing what I never wanted to write, and the one person I wanted to share it all with is gone. Who the hell is writing my story? I always hated tragedies.

 Her story is ultimately the story of all women suffering with breast cancer, especially metaplastic breast cancer. I just read that another one of the young women in her Facebook Group is on hospice now. That's too soon. It breaks my heart to see it happening again.

 The normal treatments just don't work for MBC. I keep praying that some new ground will be broken, because so many young women run out of options well before they run out of hope. I know Robin did.

 I still expect her to text me, or call me, or message me to let me know to come pick her up from the hospital. Then it sinks in all over again. My nights are so empty and I hate going to bed.

 I do like it when Logan crawls into bed though. He doesn't want me to be lonely. I love my children, and they are why i'm still pressing on.

Day 8: Bittersweet Blessings

 Today I filled out some paperwork for work, and realized that 5 years ago, when I started at the prison, I must have been paying attention, since I listened and bought and maxed my family life insurance option. I didn't remember doing it, but obviously I did.

 The life insurance payment will pay off all of Robin's medical bills, and we will be completely out of debt. What sucks though, and as much of a blessing as that is; it was what we were aiming for.

 Together.

 We had made so much progress before she got sick, and we kept up our progress during everything. We spent more wisely, we saved, we paid things off.

 I'm realizing all the things in life that I'd wanted to achieve in life that I am achieving are suddenly empty. We fought for these things to improve our life, and now that they are coming to fruition, it is just me.

 Victory feels empty alone.

 I woke up this morning with Logan in bed with me. He hasn't done that in a long time. He said, "I didn't want you to be all alone, so I got in bed with you."

 Robin and I have beautiful children. I miss her.