Wednesday, February 10, 2010




The five stages of grief. I learned about this while I was taking a CNA course the summer of 2008. We had to learn it because our main focus was taking care of the elderly and some day, a patient of ours might pass away. It was always made evident that once you finish with one stage, you quickly go into the other. They never tell you what it's really like. They don't include the different add-ins like the confusion and the inability to remember anything. They also don't include that you skip around. It doesn't go in a fluid progression from one into the other.

Denial... (BIG) check. Anger... check. Bargining... check. Depression... check. Acceptance......

I can't accept it. I still don't believe he is gone. I still feel like I am going to wake up from this nightmare and open my eyes to see him laying there next to me. I think about the life that we should have had. The life that was so close into grasp. We were going to be parents. We were going to have careers. Michael was going to be an Officer in the Marine Corps. We had an amazing life planned out for us. And a split second some ass hole takes it all away. Michael was HOME! He was SAFE!

I have said it hundreds of times before and I am sure I have even written it on here... When Michael was deployed, I held my breath. You always have it in the back of your head that anything is possible when they are fighting in a war. Every time my door bell rang or I had a knock on my door, I had a mini panic attack. That was the one thing you had to prepare for. But Michael came home. He came home twice. This last time was supposed to be the last time for a long time. He wasn't going to deploy with his unit at Miramar, he was going to stay home and run the shop until he was supposed to go to college. He had a guaranteed 5 years home. He was home and I was able to breathe. He was safe and nothing was supposed to happen to him.

I found myself the other day, being in the same turning situation as the man who hit Michael. I was making a left hand turn. I wasn't at a light. I found myself stairing at the traffic going in the opposite direction and I am just stairing in amazment because this man really did not care enough to pay attention. I could see all of these cars in plain view. How could he have not saw Michael?! Michael's bike was black and blue. He had a helmet on, which was also black and blue. He must have not looked. That one mistake look my husband's life and ruined mine.

I miss you Michael. My love for you is eternal.

No comments:

Post a Comment