18 Months

Today marks 18 months since our Joe died. I can’t lie. It has been a very hard day. I have spilled a lot of tears and my body has been tied up in knots for the last couple of days because my momma’s heart just knew….knew there was a big day coming. In one breath it seems like it has been forever since Joe died….in the next, there is total denial that it ever happened.

Moving to Montana has been bittersweet. I think the only kid excited about us moving here was Joe and he never got to come here…never set foot in Montana. We have moved to a beautiful spot which we both enjoy the quiet and the natural beauty which is all around us. But we don’t know anyone here yet. It isn’t for lack of trying. Rich is playing hockey now and I am volunteering at the church. We both volunteered at a raptor rehab center for three hours on Monday. It is kind of a no-go for me, and maybe not even for Rich, who loves these birds. These things take time. I always have said in all my moves it takes a good year to really start to feel like you belong. Without kids at home to pull us into sports and school stuff, that makes it a bit harder. Living 10 minutes outside of a town of 5,000 people is also not helpful…but we are trying. Grief really isolates you in general, then to add to just general isolation, well, it made today just a bit harder.

Joe used to call me about every other day or two. He was definitely the most talkative of our three kids. He wanted to stay connected, and I never took that for granted. I loved every one of those phone calls…most of them videocalls because he just liked to interact face to face. He was calling me more before he died because he loved cooking for his crew at the fire department. I think he wanted to be known as the good cook on duty. At first it was kind of a hazing thing for the new guy…but he loved it. I even sent him a fireman’s cookbook at one point for him to use. He would call me and ask for a recipe of something I made. I have so many texts of recipes being swapped back and forth between us. I miss those calls. I guess I miss feeling needed in some way by one of my kids. I always felt like I had a purpose with him, and that is a blessing. I write letters to Joe a lot. Not always every day, but more often than not. I finished my first journal of letters to him yesterday. Today I started my second journal. When I originally started writing to Joe, I picked a pink journal (there weren’t a lot of choices). He was so often in a pink tie or a pink shirt in high school. He would always tell me that “real men wear pink” and that he could really “rock pink.” I thought about going back to read some of the first few pages of this pink journal but the feelings on the pages were so raw….I just couldn’t. I have come a long way in 18 months. My grief will never leave but I am growing around it…trying to live a life for the both of us. So I am tucking away my pink journal filled with letters to Joe in the last 18 months and starting a new journal with a tree on the front of it. We are in the process of finding a tree to plant in our yard for Joe. I had some awesome friends who sent us a tree when Joe died, but it is in the backyard of our house in Omaha, which is now for sale. We are looking to probably get an aspen. Joe loved them….loved Colorado, who makes them famous. To all of you out there with kids…young and old….hug them tight. Tell them you are proud of them and that you love them. Text them if they live far away. You never know the last time you will see them. I certainly didn’t.