Return
This week is like one in December.
One I’ve quite nicely entitled….Hell Week.
It basically consists of days that seem to consolidate lots of loss or the reminder of what once was, into a small period of time.
On May 21st, 2007, Michael was killed when a man in a field detonated 2,000 pounds of explosives directly underneath him.
On May 26th, 2011, our baby, Charlie, died after his battle with cancer.
On May 28th, I’ll be existing during Memorial Day…a day I live every day.
On June 1st, 2007, We had Michael’s memorial service.
On June 2nd, 2007, I spread his ashes.
On June 3rd, 2011, I thought of how much I despised living on earth without two things I loved more than myself.
Okay…that’s hell week and a half…I always sucked at math…but besides that…
These dates signify the most pivotal moments in my life.
They were the last day that they had that their last inhale….their last exhale…
These were the days were the last days I’d hear their voice or feel their wet tongue on my cheek…
These were the days that bred many ‘what ifs’…many ‘could I have done things differently’…and for each…5 years and 1 year later…I still struggle with both…
Some more than with others.
But with each I was given the gift I never will regret.
The gift to say the only things human vocabulary ever created for such beings as Charlie and Michael.
“I love you”…”I’m so in love with you.”…”I love you more than life itself.”
The pain is always there. Not to burst any bubbles. It’s a dormant ache that re-surfaces in the moments we reflect on that which we have lost.
But the ache is soothed by the love that withstands all things…even death.
Someone once said that where we invest our love is where we invest our life.
I’ve been given the greatest investment…to keep living for them..for myself.
I miss them more than I can even try to pretend to want to know. I ache for them at random moments to the point of unstoppable tears.
And yes…5 years later it is still a bit of a “Hell Week”…but I stop and I absorb, and I feel, and I release, and I feel their love.
And the investment always has the greatest return.
A Love Interrupted 
I know how all the little and big things have the power to ambush. I lost my husband February 27 to cancer. To say he was the love of my life and that we were a perfect fit and filled every place in one another’s heart is an understatement. I am still figuring out how to breathe again. I lost our 15 year old dachshund the same day. I know the pain of which you speak. Hoping you get through these days with a knowledge of his unending love for you.