Nine Months

Nine months ago, I sat in this very spot on my couch. It's the same couch Adam and I vowed we were getting rid of in June (next month). Nine months ago, it was also a Tuesday night--just like tonight. He sat beside me. I'm sure we watched Biggest Loser and ate junk food--just like I'm doing tonight, just like we did every Tuesday night. I nursed Carson, instead of holding his bottle like I do tonight. Adam had his laptop out and was studying for boards. I quizzed him. Even with my medical background, I remember telling him I didn't have a clue what he was studying. He said that was why he liked radiology--radiologists have to know "everything!" Good ol' Adam. Figures he'd say that. Ha! :)

I know we had the tv off at some point. And as I remember him standing and rocking back and forth by our fireplace, I'm certain he must've been holding Carson, rocking him back and forth. That was the last night I was given audible counsel from my husband. Or at least a big chunk of it. Gosh. How I would've changed that night if I could've. It was on this couch that he sat and told me of his plans to go into work late so he could take Justin to donuts. I know it isn't healthy to live in the "if onlys" of life. But at certain points it is therapeutic and important for me to process. There is so much that happened in those first couple weeks, of which most is a blur. That bugs me. I'm sure when I've asked others of their place in this, how they found out, who they told, what they did, that it sometimes bothers them. It isn't a pretty discussion, yet it is important for me to process. The thing that bothers me today is that I don't know who Adam's last conversation was with--I've seen his cell phone statement and I know he called someone at work--probably to tell them he would be in late. My guess is that he talked with Chad, the same coworker who had to shoulder the responsibility of telling his department that Adam was dead and that I was on my way, as was our boys who were hurt. Awful enough, I'm well aware that the exact place he was at during that phone call would've been the exact place that the defendant drove off his side of the road and into Adam, only 45 minutes later. I also realized that Adam was literally 1 minute from home--from our driveway--at the place of the crash. One minute. I timed it. The boys asked why I was banging my hand on my steering wheel and growling when I made this discovery yesterday. THAT close. It literally makes my blood boil. Still. My heart races thinking about it.

Nine months ago I remember giving him a last kiss. It was a kiss that I remember very well, I can taste it. Thousands upon thousands of kisses we'd exchanged, and I remember that one the most. I suppose that's a good thing. It may very well be what gets me through the rest of this life, possibly alone. I remember our I love yous. That night. I remember our night. And just like that, it's all so unbelievable in my head again. It's incomprehensible that my sweetheart is gone. Gone.

I read of another widow story today whose spouse died roughly a week ago. It broke my heart for their children, but most of all it broke my heart for the widowed one. It's disturbing to me that others are walking this path after me--just like I am following in others' footsteps. It isn't fair, it is flat out disturbing. Ugh. How I wish I could shelter others from this journey.

I am still determined, however. I don't pretend to understand it all, but I know God has a plan for me--just as he does for each of us individually. It isn't some theoretical nonsense just to appease our mere mortal minds. He is real. His Son is real. And they both want us to return to be with them again someday. Life wasn't meant to be fair, but he does give us what we are capable of handling--even if it doesn't seem we can go on at times. Life doesn't always get smoothed over and turn all rosy--I don't believe we were ever given that promise. But I do believe it is about our attitude and how we deal with what curve balls get thrown our way, that we CAN shoulder those burdens, somehow, someway.

I will survive, one minute at a time. And, so will everyone else with his or her trials. Where much is given, much is required. I feel this. I was blessed with good people in my life, and I am daily in awe of those who buoy me up and lift my spirit. Much is required of me, but I will continue on. I have been greatly blessed. I hope I can be an instrument in His hands for whatever He needs me to accomplish.