It’s hard to believe that you’ve been gone a little over 2 weeks. A big part of me wishes I could jump ahead to it being 2 years, with the hope that this empty pain will be over or at least bearable. I had to change another household bill over to my information bringing yet another meltdown. The poor tech didn’t know what to do except hug me and say that he would not be handling it this well. All I could think is, “I’m not handling it well.” But the hug was sweet.

I think these meltdowns as I call them is that each time I make one of these changes, I just feel like I’m erasing yet another piece of you. My worse fear is that you will disappear from me, from our life. You were such a huge part of making our world run that it’s overwhelming to think of you not doing it any longer. It makes my chest tight and the tears come. Preston and I used to say, “This is your world and we just live in it.” Who’s world is it now? I can hear you saying, “It’s your world KK, it’s yours.” My head knows this, yet my heart pleads for it to still be yours.

You would be so proud of us. Preston and I took our first trip. Our first trip as a new family, our first trip without you. We both agreed that overall it didn’t turn out so bad. We kept comparing our steps to, “What would Dad have done?” or “Do you think Dad would have been ok with this?” We did set up some “rules” that we both agreed on. One was no talking about death. The other was if one of us saw the other get teary-eyed, we needed to change the subject, tell a joke or say it was time to more. Surprisingly this plan really helped. 

I did have a lot of time to reflex and try to process while on this mini trip. Here’s what I’ve come up with this far. I know you are always near and know I can still chat with you. But both Preston and I agree we really wish we could just see and physically touch you. Like a big hug, just to help get us through. I know without a shadow of a doubt that you are onto bigger things. That the new journey you are embarking on is one that makes items here seem so minor. Even the amount of time I have to go through to mourn you will seem so minor in length than it will for me. That the new things you are experiencing and learning are on a scale that I cannot even begin to comprehend until my time comes to join you. Makes me really think about some of life issues and wants that in the big picture are not going to matter or mean anything. You truly are on a different level and I can’t wait to hear the stories.

I also think the trip was a way to prove to myself that I can do it on my own, yet I will admit it wasn’t as relaxing as when you’re with us. Did you really get a kick out of organizing everything so that it not only went smooth but was packed with fun too? I giggle remembering all those spreadsheets you would do for a single trip. They would have all the reservation confirmations, addresses, numbers, dates and times on them. A travel agent really was a calling you had!

Lastly, I thought about all the people you touched. The common message of never forgetting your smile, your laugh (high pitched and all) and how you had a way of making people feel special once talking to them. And of course, your energy to live life to it’s fullest. I thought about how many people your death deeply affected and I start to wonder. Could the reason why you had to leave us so early was so that so many would get that message of laughter, love and living within their lives? If that was your destiny, I can completely see it being one that you would pick and enjoy full filling. You always said when given the choice, pick for the great good rather than for yourself 

I love you to the moon and back my love.