Moving on

Tomorrow is the start of another year. 2010. A new decade really.

I have been wondering what this year will hold. I have many things that I would like to do, but I'm not planning really, plans are hopeless anyway. We know life can change in a moment. Its more things I wouldn't mind getting around to should I find the time.

What I most want, however, I can't have. I can't plan.

I want this grief to stop. I want to feel better and be better company. That said, I think this year in some ways is going to be harder than the last. Sure, I have learned or adapted to living this life. I now know that I am capable of far more than I ever gave myself credit for. I am far more aware of God's grace and his powerful hand carrying me through.

What is flooring me though is this need/expectation that I should move on. That given that the "firsts" are nearly over that I will wake one morning and feel better.

I don't. I don't feel any better. I feel more lonely, more scared and I ache to have Jouke back. I long to know again what it feels like to fall asleep in his arms or to hear his laugh. I long for the feeling that everything is right in my world and it kills me that I may never again. I long for my kids to have 2 parents.

So, yes I want to "move on", and shake some of this grief, but I don't want to loose him again. I don't want to cut him from my life and I don't want another in his place.

I want Jouke.

That's what I want most.

Wednesday

It was a Wednesday 8 years ago when we started our married life together. A Wednesday because he wouldn't make a decision and to get a reaction I choose that day. He didn't mind. Wednesday it was.

It was a warm day.

Busy.

I remember the people and the flowers and the hair. A hive of activity, until the moment that I saw him waiting at the end of the aisle. It all stopped. There he was, nervous, but calmly waiting. Stunningly handsome. I don't remember if we spoke to each other during the ceremony, only that he helped me hold the flowers that were getting heavy. I remember how he smelled that day. I remember how, unlike usual, his face was shaved smooth.

We were so young. He was just 25 and I not yet 21.

Babies. We were so sure we had found the perfect life partner. I still believe the same.

Wednesday 19 December 2001: Two becomes one.

Wednesday 4 March 2009: I am left ripped in half.

Weird.

I hate Wednesday.