Tomorrow is the anniversary of Rob’s death. Every year, I write him a letter. Writing helps me to process my feelings, and it also helps me to heal. I share my journey of grief in hope of helping others.
It’s been seven years since you left me. I want you back every day, and I miss you in ways that words could never describe. This past year, I have learned more about life, love and pain in ways that have taught me a deeper understanding of what is, and what is not.
The journey of finding purpose, meaning and truth. Seven years ago, I thought my life had ended. In an instant, I went from making lunch to running upstairs and finding you lifeless on your bed; the very place where you should have been the safest. Seven years later, I am living to share my story of unimaginable pain that has turned into the most beautiful journey of life after death.
Perfectly imperfect. It has no boundaries or conditions and is often times very complicated. It gives us our highest of highs, our lowest of lows and it has the ability to distract us from our deepest pain. In grief, love protects, heals and gives hope when there is nothing left.
The direct result of love. It is the emotion that propels action, and is the driving force in finding meaning and understanding. It has to be excruciating in order for it to be productive. Without pain, there would be no reason.
Seven years ago, you took your last breath, here on earth. Seven years ago, you were called to fulfill your purpose. You are still everywhere for me, and life stopped in so many ways, the day that you left me. More importantly, life began, in so many ways, the day that you left me.
For You, Because of You and in Memory of You