Saturday will mark three years since Jared went home. Three years since I last heard his voice. Three years since my world changed. Three years since I held Jared in my arms as he took his last breath. Three years since I watched his face as he realized the angels were there to carry him home. Three years since I kissed him as he left his earthly home to join Our Father in heaven. I have never felt so helpless. So lost. So empty. My world forever changed at 7:50 pm on September 16, 2014. Life immediately became before and after. I couldn't imagine surviving that night. Or the next day. Or the next week. Or the next month. And definitely not the next year. And yet, somehow, I have survived three years.
I will never forget the gut wrenching pain I felt that night and for many nights to come. I will never be able to erase Steven's sobs of heartache from my memory. I will never again be the person I was before that night. That girl died with Jared. Now words like widow and late husband are part of my daily vocabulary. Hearing my son say “I wish my dad was here” or “my dad lives in heaven” is part of our everyday life. Jared's death forced me to create a new normal. Figure out who I was and who I wanted to be. Be both mom and dad to a grieving child. Always be the disciplinarian and still try to be the fun one. And more often than not, feel like I was screwing it up. But one thing I never did, I never gave up. I never quit. Somehow, somewhere, deep in my soul I knew I was going to be ok.
I drew strength from my son, my friends, my family, and my faith. And I survived. And in this last year I have learned to live again. I have opened my life to new adventures. My heart to new love. And my soul to be restored. And I know Jared would be so proud. Proud that I kept my promise. Proud that I am honoring him by living my best life. Proud of the young man Steven is becoming. Proud of how we are keeping his memory alive. Proud that I once again laugh and dance in the rain.
Yes, my heart has a permanent scar, a scar that reminds me of my love story with an amazing man. A scar that reminds me that love was worth the pain. A scar that says live because he can't. Three years ago I wanted to die. Couldn't imagine life without Jared. Was pissed that the world didn't stop for my grief. But today, my scars from grief remind me just how far I have come.
Three years ago I was forever changed. Jared's death changed me in ways I could never describe. But it also forced me to grow and adapt. His love gave me the strength to move forward. And it has taken a while, a lot of hard days and harder nights, but I’m beginning to like the person I am now. And as I continue to move forward and build a new life, Jared's love will always inspire me.
Three years feels like forever and yesterday all at the same time. Not a day goes by that I don't love and miss Jared. That I don't wish he was here. What I wouldn't give to have him here by my side. But I am comforted knowing he is sitting in heaven, holding my spot. And someday, I will see him again.
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