Over Rivers, Over Mountains, Through an Ocean of Your Fears

The last year and 9 days of my life have been the most stretching and growing period that I have ever experienced. I try to think in my head how to put how I feel about the last year into words and there are too many. Words that come to mind: awful, terrifying, hard, broken, healing, lonely, sad, raw, and those are just the first ones that come to mind. This grief business is for real. I never knew I could feel so many things while also feeling numb. I never knew sadness that real. I never knew people could be so good. 

I have done so many hard things in the last year, and 9 days. 

As a family of 4, we spent last week in Kansas with the Leighty family. This was our first trip back since my husband died there a year ago. Going out there I had so many fears. I was afraid of the drive, afraid of how it would be to be there again, in this place where he died and we buried him. I imagined terrible things of course, cause that is what anxiety does; like other people getting hurt, my kids having total breakdowns, and me losing it. Honestly, the worst thing that happened the whole time, was that I left my wallet in a gas station bathroom in Salina, KS, and even that wasn't that bad since some honest soul turned it in and didn't take a thing. Retrieving it turned into one of the best girls days I have had in a long time. 

I was worried that when we got there, to the houses in Kansas, that it would be hard to see the place I stood when Brooke told me Justin was dead. I thought it might be triggering to sit on the couch where I held Sydney after telling her that her father was dead and she sobbed and sobbed. I thought it would be difficult to the see the bedroom where I last slept beside him and then came back to that night to find it empty and his pillow there. But, you know what I saw when I got there? I saw people that love us and love him. I saw the places where we sat around the table and talked and shared food and drinks together. I saw all our kids so happy to see each other and be together again. And it was good. 

On the second day we were there, we went to accomplish the one thing that I was still needing to complete. It felt like the last terrible flight of stairs after climbing 99 flights before it. 

You see, Justin was born in Colby, Kansas and lived there till he was five and they moved to Colorado. His family owns the family farm in Kansas where his Grandma grew up. He was very into tradition, family history and family in general. I knew that he wanted to be buried in Kansas in the family plot, with his ancestors and Grandparents and eventually Parents. So, when he died while we were there, burying him there was the only easy choice I had to make. So, since he was buried 1000 miles away from where we live, I had not been to his grave since his ashes were placed in it. A year ago it was a hole that felt like it was swallowing my life. Going back to that place, wasn't what I wanted to do, but I knew it was what I needed to do. 

Also, I am not big on cemeteries or gravestones. I do not care to have one for myself and do not really even want my ashes buried, maybe planted under a tree or something. I do not feel like a grave or a stone represent the life of the person. I do not disrespect that other people grieve differently and feel differently, but I was never concerned about his stone or what it looks like. This was something that was important to Justin's Dad, and he did a beautiful job picking the stone and honoring Justin.  And there are pictures of it below. Justin's life that he created and the people that he touched are how his life is represented. He is not in the ground in Kansas, but the ashes of his remains are. I do not feel closer to him in this cemetery.  I will tell you that it was hard to see. It was very real and final. There was something therapeutic for me in going there, and on the therapist's suggestion, taking some time to "say" some things to him that I needed to say.  

There was some relief in making it through those last few stairs to get to the top of a very long, very hard year. But we made it. I don't expect that everything will be sunshine and daisies from here on out. We will still have hard days, and I will still cry at random Peter Cetera songs. However, we survived the first year, and if I do say so myself, we did it pretty well. I am not the same person I was on June 27, 2017. I have learned and grown and done hard things. I am still sad and still struggle with fears but I continue to walk in the peace of God and he still lifts me up and holds he close. 

I just want you to all remember that everyone grieves differently. There is no right way to do it, and the only wrong way is to not allow yourself to grieve. It is okay to lose it and be a hot mess, and it is okay to have it together and be happy. It is okay to cry or not. It is okay to find ways to memorialize the people you lost and it is okay to quietly remember them by yourself.