Every minute of every day my children and I fight our emotions and our grief. We are breathing – We are living one moment at a time. We are doing the hardest thing a human being can do – live without the person we love more than anything. We fight a brave fight. We are grieving. We are grieving differently from each other.

We don’t have to let go to move on. My grief – Travis- they both come with me every where I go. People say you have to move on- you have to stay busy. People say you have to start over. I’m not starting over – I’m continuing. I’m trying to live. I’m trying to survive.   My children and I are trying to stay afloat .

People say you have to let go of the past. How foolish would it be to forget our past that makes us who we are?

I know that I loved someone so much and he loved me so much that his death causes me such agonizing pain.

Our love for each other was unconditional – when we were kind and funny we loved each other – and when we were rude or fighting we loved each other. Now that he has died I believe that somehow our love triumphs over that and it continues – and that our journey continues. We learned so much from each other and that learning continues. I am even grateful for our love.

My grief is a reminder of my love for him.  I am grateful that I am learning to honor my husband with not just tears but with the only joy I have right now- our three children. He never gave up even when the going was very rough and he is my role model for not giving up. I can’t give up. If I did give up he would still love me – but even if he is dead I want to make him proud. I want to be a reminder of his determination and his life. A reminder of his character and the person he was when he walked this earth.

He died way too soon for me, for our children, our families, for others!
One of the hardest things for me since Travis died is the silence. There is the obvious silence. When someone dies they don’t talk to you with their voice any more. They don’t respond to your texts or your phone calls. They don’t call you asking “what’s on the schedule for today”. You can watch videos of them or listen to recordings. You can speak to them and hear or feel a response but it’s a differnt kind of response than one from a living human being.  I miss the sound of Travis voice whispering in my ear. I miss him talking to me. I even miss him yelling at me during a fight. I even miss the sound of him disciplining the children   I even miss the sound of a burp or his snoring.

There are other sounds. I miss the sound of the water running when he was taking a shower or brushing his teeth. I miss the sound of his feet coming upstairs from his man cave. I miss the sound of the doors opening and closing. I miss the sound of the garage door opening. I miss him calling my name. I miss hearing him tell our children “you’re my #1 girl, you’re my #1 son, you’re my #favorite- I love you bud”.   I especially miss him saying, “Jewels- I love you.”

I miss the rattling of dishes if he was getting something to eat. I miss his side of the conversation. I miss his hearing what he would say when I ask his advice.   I miss his encouragement.   I miss his point of view.  I miss his laughter. I even miss the sound of his television set which I was always yelling at him to turn down. I miss the sound of the music he would play. I miss the sound of goose calls in the garage – even though I always asked to be whiter. I even miss the sound of Howard stern on his sirius radio in the vehicle.    I miss the sound of his kiss and our romantic moments.

I miss the sound of sports, cooking or nature shows on televsion. I miss him yelling at the kids and their friends to be quiet. I miss the sound of him cheering for the Chargers. I especially miss hearing him cheer for our children at their sporting events.  I miss hearing him encourage our children or guide them to be better. I miss hearing him speak to Sydney and sharing the Man’s point of view. I miss him using his words to calm samantha when she was upset. I miss hearing him open Jacobs door and say “I love you- my number one son”.

I miss the sound of him talking politics with my father or speaking of cooking with my mother. I miss hearing him tease my sister or call his parents on the phone.

I miss his snoring or the noise he made when he slept.  I still do not have the strength to sleep in our bed. I miss laying my head on his chest and hearing each individual heart beat and single breaths.

Breathing— heart beats—-

We don’t even think of it unless we are meditating or doing breath work. How strange that the sound of someone’s breathing or heartbeat should stop.

Forever.

When Travis  first died sometimes I would walk in the house and say, “Hi honey. I’m home.” I would call out his name to his office downstairs, I would ask him what he’s making for supper;  I would ask him how his day was. I knew he wouldn’t answer but I wanted to pretend. I had his old phone with his voice mail. I would call it frequently throughout the day—- how I miss hearing his voice and how he answered his phone, “this is Travis”. I especially miss hearing him say “I love you too” and hang up.

I miss him telling me I am beautiful or that I look nice.  I even miss him telling me that  I am spending too much money.

I miss him telling me the same story over and over again. It’s odd how the things that irritated me when he was alive I would give anything to have again.

I do listen for and hear his spirit.  I think he’s always with me.  I like to think his spirit watches over me but it doesn’t have his voice. I often wait for him to speak to me in any way when I am talking to him.

I first met Travis when I was only 16 years old.  We had 27 years together – married for 21 years, 2 months and 3 days.  All those words. All those sounds. Gone.

The last words I heard from him    The final 4 words my love said to me,  “I love you too”.  I miss his voice. I miss the sound.

Now. Silence.

The silence is very loud.

There are no stages of grief-grief is continual. Grief is never ending.I get so angry. Grief is not something to measure and quantify. I think people who tell you how to grieve – whether medical professionals or family – are ignorant or arrogant. I was surely ignorant before Travis died. I’d say to someone, “I’m so sorry.” We all grieve in different ways. We all love in different ways. Grief is not an illness,  you shouldn’t judge yourself for how you feel or compare yourself with other people who are grieving. I don’t try to have a “good”day–each and every day- I try to survive.

It’s hard enough relearning how to live our lives when someone we love very much has died without the added pressure of tailoring our feelings and behavior to other people’s expectations. It’s lonely to have to lie about how you feel because people want you to “move on” or be ” better”.

My husband’s dead. He was my everything I don’t want to let go.  I don’t know. I still scream and cry myself to sleep.  There has not been one day in the past 72 days that I have not cried or asked “why”. i dont have my husband, I don’t have my best friend, my lover.  He can’t come back. Living with that truth is difficult. Some days it is hard to awake and greet the new day- another day without Travis.  Every day it is hard to fall asleep. I will live but, I will not live my life with other people’s definitions.

I’m not depressed.

I’m grieving.