7

Isn't 7 a lucky number?

I'm going to a drag show at the casino tonight, maybe i'll gamble a little?

7, 11. Those are supposed to be lucky. Well, today is 7 months and Courts birthday is 11/11. How much luckier can a person get? "11:11, make a wish." I used to see 11:11 as that. Now I don't.

I'm not sure what I'm doing. I feel like that's natural but, at the same time I wish I knew what I was doing. I'm type A. I make lists, set goals, I planned my life based on age.

College. Check.

Engaged. Check.

House. Check.

Wedding. Check.

Dog. Check.

Kids by 30. Nope.

I wasn't expecting the next chapter to be the funeral of my wife.

Today is 7 months. I can't believe it's been that long. It's weird. I do feel her with me, yet I also feel an insane emptiness. I was up at 4am today. I've been trying to "forget" about time, dates, anniversaries. I bought tickets to a drag show tonight for me and my sister in law because I wanted to do something "fun". I don't know if the trying to run away from it made it worse but, none the less the day is here. January 10th 2020.

Before waking up I was dreaming about cleaning out my house. Fucked up dreams. I'm scared to clean it out. It's so final. It's real. It needs to be done. It's "on my list" and it's driving me CRAZY that I haven't done it but I just can't. I feel like my life is at a standstill. I'm the only one who can make the next moves but, I can't. I'm not ready. I also can't afford to pay my mortgage and utilities for another 7 months...

today, I woke up crying. That hasn't happened in a while. I'm a night crier, not a morning crier. (I also just googled the correct spelling for crier, looked weird, sounds right.) ANYWAY. I'm NOT a morning crier. But, today I was. As soon as the first tear fell to my pillow Jax was wiggling his way up to my neck. He placed his head on my pillow and both paws on my chest. I started crying more. This sweet baby boy always knows. At first, I wasn't sure why I was feeling particularly sad this morning, (remember I have been trying to not dwell on time) and then it hit me like a ton of bricks as it always does. 7 months.

I stayed cuddling with Jax, letting the pain and tears come. I looked at him, I thought of my wife. I thought about how adamant she was on getting THIS DOG. I was scared of him, I will admit it. The scars and physical trauma he must have endured are a traumatic story. A story he can't share, but one he carries with him daily. His little quirks and anxiety can only be because of his past. Thinking more about it, Court saw herself in this sweet baby boy. She saw his pain, his physical scars, his internal anxieties. She got him. She understood his heart. "Everything happens for a reason." I hate that. I do but, she chose him for a reason.

So today. 7 months since I last kissed my wife, told her I loved her and held her for the last time, I'm choosing to TRY and be grateful for the gifts she did leave me. The little pieces of her heart that are still here physically. It might be in the form of our dog. But, that dog loved her. She was his person and he was hers. They share a bond through their traumas and their hearts. I'm grateful to have a piece of her heart with me every day. I'm grateful she pushed me to bring this baby boy into our house and hearts and helped me to look past the anxieties I felt due to his physical scars. That was my wife. She saw the best in people. She saw their pain, their past and she didn't judge them for it. She saw their beauty. She was beautiful. She is beautiful. She will forever be beautiful.

My love, Jax and I miss you more than words can express. Thank you for leaving pieces of your beauty and heart here on earth. We both love you more, most, more than most and even more than that.

-C