I cried today

I cried today, but that’s nothing new. I thought about you today but that’s nothing new. I missed you today but that’s nothing new. I’m doing OK I promise but it’s hard. You were woven into the fabric of my life. We could talk about anything and everything. We could laugh together and complain together, and then laugh again about how we complain too much. We could talk about stupid things we saw or heard that day.

I took a lunch today just so that I could try to regain my focus. I’m so crabby and short tempered. Work is hard and stressful and frustrating. I need a break, but I just don’t have time for it. I know you would tell me to take the time and stop dedicating so much of my life to this job then I would tell you that people depend on me. I miss you, pushing me to take better care of myself, even though sometimes it irritated me.

This morning when I got on the scale, I realized that I have lost 50 pounds since I called you on my way home from the doctor in March in shock about how much weight I had regained. You told me that I could do this, start again, and I did, I want to celebrate this with you. I want to celebrate this victory but I just want to lay on my couch and feel sorry for myself.

I haven’t cried this hard since right after your funeral. I keep trying to figure out why it’s happening today, but really it doesn’t matter. I miss you so much. I hate this. We were supposed to be crazy old cackling cat ladies together driving Marc up a wall. I’m so mad that cancer stole that plan away from us. I miss you. I love you.