17,520 hours. 730 days. 24 months. 2 years. It seems like an eternity. It feels like just yesterday. October is so daunting. It brings an ache to my chest that is heavier than normal. It reminds me of all my "lasts" with Matt. The last time we watched football, ate together, talked, kissed, touched...October reminds me of all that is missing. It is full of triggers and brings emotions to the surface that I so desperately try and manage the rest of the year.
For me, the pain really surfaces again starting on October 11th. That marks the day of when life as I knew it began to unravel. It was an ordinary, sunny, Sunday. A morning spent at home watching the Seahawks game. The last game we would watch together. It amazes me how life can be turned upside down without any signs or any warnings.
I think for many, this year is so much harder than last year. The shock of Matt's passing has subsided slightly, leaving us with a clearer picture of what life looks now. This leaves us with the unwanted opportunity to really miss Matt. To really grieve him. But isn't that what he deserves? Doesn't he deserve to be missed, talked about, cried over? He was an incredible person. So why wouldn't we feel like our hearts have been ripped in half? Why wouldn't we want to continue talking about him?
Since the 11th, I’ve been reliving the nightmare in my head. Every time I look at the clock I picture where I was two years ago. What I was doing. What I was hearing. I try and not let my mind go there. I try and stay positive and think about Matt’s life and how beautiful it was. But my brain knows I have to to go there. My brain knows that healing comes from tears.
My mom and I went to the grocery store the other day to get some stuff for today. We will gather with family and send balloons with messages to Matt. Afterwards, we will be together, remembering Matt and what today signifies, while eating some of his favorite foods. I was checking out at the store and thought how it must look like we were going to have a fun time this weekend. We had balloons, flowers, beer, and lots of stuff to make food Matt enjoyed. At that moment, our cashier asked “do you have any fun plans for the weekend?” After my mom explained what we were doing, and why, he had tears in his eyes. His response was so genuine. He didn’t try and sugarcoat anything. And just kept saying “that just sucks.”
I’ve heard often since Matt’s passing that “time heals all wounds” or “it gets better with time.” People desperately trying to find the right words and offer comfort. While I appreciate their attempts so very much, I don’t believe these statements. I’m not any less sad today than I was two years ago. I certainly don’t miss Matt any less. In fact, the opposite is true. I miss him more.
It seems as though there’s nothing profound on my heart today. I find that I don’t have the words or the message or the ability to articulate how I feel today. All I know is today is hard. Today is heavy. Today I’m sad and broken and missing Matt in a new way. I’m missing him in a familiar way.
Two years. The blink of an eye. An eternity. Much too long.
