I continued the move today by sorting books. I came across a number that were about "Daddy loves me." I sat with such confusion over how to handle those. My kids need to know that Daddy loves them. I feel like that's my duty to keep in front of them. I have a duty and it seems some people in my children's circle don't feel like they share. That's another battle. He is so real and tangible to me that I feel like I must pass this along to our children. I have to keep him here.
I still relive those last days, moments, months... I can't escape them. It is all I can do to keep them out of my mind so that I don't have to feel that pain again. Things hurt badly enough, but I have to keep those memories of the unimaginable loss at bay so that I don't completely lose it. I'm not positive that's the right decision, but it's all I can handle. Part of me is completely cool with keeping this portion of me locked away. I have a husband in Heaven who loves me with all that he is. He is wonderful, faithful, funny, kind, loving, a hard worker, resourceful, thoughtful, aggravating, obsessive, inventive, smart, etc. He loved(S) me. We share one flesh. I'm getting that now. Like really getting it. I remember our honeymoon flight, realizing that oneness we shared that hadn't existed before. I suddenly depended on him and was with him for life in all of this. I remember those moments at his bedside after a diagnosis, knowing this was me too. And I feel it now. I don't want to wish away this for that, but I'm all for a rapture. My son asks me regularly to not let anything happen to me. It tears me up. God, protect me. Protect us. I plead the blood of Jesus over all of us, our household, our nation. Help, Lord.