Once again it's been a long stretch since I've written anything... actually, that's not completely true. I have been writing letters to someone recently, and they have certainly taken on a blog-like, or-my-brain-spilling-out-everything-that-comes-to-it, like. Which is sort of my writing style.
Today would have been Matthew's 51st birthday. The sense that it's easier to digest this year than last year makes it actually harder in a way. I think that's been my issue from the start - thinking that I should be obtaining a sense of letting go, but also desperately not wanting to let go. To hold on as long as possible. Because if I somehow let go of the grief, I'm letting him go. I didn't want to let go three years ago. I didn't want to let go a year ago. I don't want to let go now. I want to hold on because somewhere in the back of my mind I think that if I keep holding on to this grief, he'll come back. That he'll never have left. That it was some conspiracy out of a book where it was all fake, and all I have to do is hold that hope in my heart. If I keep holding on... and logically I know (through counseling) that there is no true letting go. I know through personal discovery that there is not point in time in which this grief will cease to exist. It will always be a part of me.
But it does get... I don't even want to say easier. I still stand by my original sentiment that this will never be easy or forgettable. I don't know the word for it. It's not easier, but I guess it is less obtrusive in my life. Ok, that's probably not the best way to look at feelings (Damn these feelings, they're getting in my way! Stupid crying, for the love of Pete stop fucking crying!). But I don't know the word. I may not cry every day. I may not think of Matthew every day anymore. But it's always there, the grief, the sense that I can never let go. The sense that if I wait long enough, he'll still be just a phone call away.
Here's the recent list of things I wish I could call him about in no specific order.
1. The Pandemic. I know everyone is sick of talking about this, and many people have moved on to their new normal, but that's not the case for me. But as a former nurse/ curious person, I think he would have found the pandemic, the vaccines, and the general response to everything incredibly fascinating. I can picture our long drawn-out conversations. We would have traded off what epidemiologists each we were following, what the treatment options were. Granted, he probably would have found the pandemic isolating, depressing. With all of his health issues, he would have had a hard time.
2. Collagen. I started taking (grass-fed, but I'm still on the fence about it, but need more joint support) collagen for my joint issues because I've been assured it helps. I'm 100% certain he would have had a lot to say, especially given the additional amino-acid makeup of the product. I'm certain he would have had a lot to say about the health benefits, and perhaps have steered me to a different product to try altogether. Or perhaps a supplement - he sure loved his supplements.
3. My kids. I love talking about my kids, it's just part of who I am now no matter how long I fought being "that parent." But Matthew was one of the people in my life who loved hearing about my kids. He was always reacting to the pictures and videos I shared with the family. I'm so sad he only got to meet Ahsoka once, and will never meet Ashla. I think Ashla's little snarkiness vibe would have tickled him. I miss his laugh so much.
4. Anything happening in my daily life in general. Really, I would just love to hear his voice again. I'm heartbroken that I don't have any videos of him or recordings of his voice.
