51 weeks

At this time a week from now I have no idea what I'll be feeling or how I'll handle it being a year down to the date and time we of lost Tim. It's going to be extremely hard but the biggest difference between the anniversary next week and that time last year is that now I have hope. A few weeks ago I hit a turning point and have been anxious about it not lasting or getting as down as I was previously but somehow my feeling of hope has persevered. I feel guilty about it a lot regardless of what my therapist says but I've also come to the conclusion that even if Tim had a miraculous turnaround and was cured of the cancer, he would be miserable right now. Completely dependent upon oxygen and a wheelchair, not able to participate in life as he would want to do and I think that has given me some form of peace in a twisted way. I still fantasize every day about what life could've been had he never gotten sick or had he never taken that turn for the worse last year. I still imagine what we'd be doing at this moment had those things never happened and would love to have that life, whatever shape it may take but at the same time I know the reality of the situation would've had us trapped inside and without visitors last winter due to how severe the flu season was. It wouldn't have had Tim disappearing every weekend to a football game with me harping on him about taking time to help me around the house this fall, it would be filled with prepping for another flu season and the constant fear of Tim catching some kind of respiratory illness and ultimately he would've been absolutely miserable.

This past week we dedicated the I TOR conference room in Tim's memory and I know he'd be so honored. I've had friends offering dinners, stopping by to say hi, hanging out, sending cards, etc. and through the time I spend with them be it on the phone, on FaceTime or in person, I feel his love. Today was my youngest nieces dedication at church with a reception here after. At one point her older sister was running around interacting and playing with everyone as I cleaned up inside (likely due to the cake and ice cream and candy corn I kept offering up). In that moment I could almost visualize she & Tim playing as he once did with Steven's oldest two. I can't begin to express how much I wish that was reality.

For now I'm doing ok, my meds are finally regulated, I have the best support system I could ever dream of between family, friends, doctors, etc. and I'm truly living in each moment and facing each day as it comes instead of worrying of what will come after. I'm scared of next Sunday and the feelings and memories that will come from that day but honestly it's the day after that scares me more as I have approached each day with the comfort of seeing what Tim and I were doing a year ago on that date which gives me a sense of comfort. Oct 5 will be the first time I can't do that. I have no doubt that I will make it though but these days really knock the wind out of me and it feels like it's hard to recover from the blows. Regardless I haven't stopped trying. It's a fight every single day to get up out of bed and I count the hours until I can climb back in. But I am fighting and fighting hard to be ok, to reclaim my life and slowly but surely to move forward, always carrying Tim right with me.