Thursday, June 15, 2017

Inability to Dream

One of the harshest realities I've had lately is that I don't have the ability to dream. It's been 20 months since my wonderful husband passed. And in many ways, he's still that. My husband. He's where my dreams are. 

With this realization, I've also taken a look at all the ways in which I'm still very much tied to Matt. There's a long, long list of ways I still hold onto him. I wear his ring around my neck. I wear my wedding ring. I wear one of his tshirts every night to bed. His phone numbers are still listed as my favorites in my phone. During football season I drink out of his Seahawks mug on game days just like he would do. If you come to my house, you'll always find Rainier and Total Domination beer in my fridge-his favorites. He had a bell on his motorcycle that I gave him for one of our anniversaries and it now hangs in my car. Our picture is on my nightstand. And at night, while I sleep, i hold one of his favorite sweatshirts like a security blanket. There's tangible and visual evidence all over that Matt is still very much part of my life. This isn't something I want to change. I want my kids, our families, our friends, and myself to never let go of him. 

It's amazing to me how after 20 months, the newness hasn't gone away. When I visited Matt today, I cried remembering that day. I cried remembering the feeling of leaving the hospital. It was sunny. It shouldn't have been sunny. The weather didn't match my mood. 

When I talk about my future, I have hope. I have hope because I know I will continue to be blessed as I have been. I haven't just blessed since losing Matt, but all throughout my life. I see the ways in which I'm fortunate. At the same time, when I talk about my future, it's very hard to imagine or dream. What I mean by this is that everything I've ever dreamed of includes Matt. When I think about what life will look like in 15 years, I picture Matt next to me as we watch Olivia graduate from high school. When I think about Olivia and Rylan's weddings, I picture Matt and I dancing together and talking about how proud we are of them. When I imagine meeting our grandkids and growing old, Matt is beside me for all of it. But even the minor details of my life, Matt is still at the forefront of my mind. I recently registered Olivia for tball. As I did, I thought "what would Matt want?" Every detail of my life still includes him in it. 

I recently talked about this with my therapist. I get concerned that I'm becoming stuck or facing this in an unhealthy way. The thing about grief is there is no timeline. There isn't a book of steps saying that in order to get through this I have to follow certain rules. That's the thing about losing someone...the hurt and the loss never goes away. There isn't an expected timeline for when I have to go through all Matt's stuff or start dreaming of a life without him. Only time can make that happen. And while 20 months may seem like a long time, it really isn't.