All day I felt relatively numb at work. It was like I was in a dream. It might be because George finally made an appearance in my dream. But his presences was so unsettling. He was there with me as we were getting ready for his memorial, and I couldn’t stop crying. But my crying felt like extreme drunkeness. And when I awoke, he was gone and I was laying on my side that would usually be facing him. I miss him more and more each morning. I know so many people have reached out saying to be strong and if I need anything just reach out. But one of my friends didn’t say that to me today. She said, and I’m paraphrasing, breaking down is part of the process before you can be strong again. I really resonated with me. I’m trying so hard to keep it together, but when I’m alone I just crumble. My soul, my heart, my well being just aches. I think when he was cremated last Wednesday, a part of me was too.
I’m getting the ashes this Saturday at the memorial. My love, best friend, confidant, my life for the last 5 years will be handed to me in a tube. I cannot believe he is no longer here, but turned to dust. What’s the saying?: “For you are dust and to dust you shall return.” I cannot stop thinking about receiving my husband in a tube. It’s what he wanted though, and I shouldn’t burden myself whether or not it was the right decision. I have enough to worry about. In less than 3 months, I planned a wedding and now I’m planning a funeral. This is torture. The only thing saving my sanity is continuing to plan the charity I chose on behalf of George. The outpouring of support from all angles is absolutely incredible. George was so loved by many, and I’m happy that so many want to donate and help out with remembering him the way he would see fit. Why are the best ones always taken too early?
I hope he makes another visit tonight as I sleep. This time I hope we’re just holding hands while we walk Bodie in the park.