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We expect to lose grandparents
and even our parents as we get older. Death, after all, is an inevitable part
of our human existence. But the unexpected death of a young loved one is always
hard to comprehend. Our human nature makes us ask why. We question God. We
shake our fists at the sky and scream out at the unfairness of it all.
The last thing I would have
expected is that I would become a widow at the age of forty. Julian and I made
so many plans. We talked about our future. We laughed about growing old and
what kind of senior citizens we would both become. But we never talked about
what it would be like if one of us died unexpectedly and so young.
Looking back now, I feel that
I was selfish to think that death couldn’t affect our little family. I took so
many things for granted. I had that “I can tell him tomorrow” attitude. My last
text to Julian simply said “Ok”, because I thought, I can tell him I love him
later. I didn’t say “good-bye”, because I didn’t know it was good-bye.
I wrestled with so many could haves, would haves and should haves
after Julian died. I struggled to understand how he could have deserved to die. I wanted to slam my fist into something
solid when I thought of how he should
have waited one more day to come home. I thought of different scenarios of
our life today if he would have
survived the accident.
Over the past several years
since Julian died, I've gone from acceptance, back to bargaining, to anger and
come full circle to feel all the emotional stages of grief again and again.
Sometimes, they can all hit me in the same day – like a merciless tidal wave
that knocks me to my knees. Guilt creeps up from my stomach into my throat and
nearly chokes me to death some days. On other days, I share happy moments with
my children and only happy memories of Julian cross my mind.
If I can only learn to live
with this grief, then I can learn to live. It’s so crippling some days that I
just don’t want to go on another day without him. It’s so unbelievable on other
days that I’m sure I am stuck in a horrible nightmare that surely has to end
soon.
Julian had an incredibly
upbeat, loving spirit. He lived each day as if it were his last. He forgave
easily. He spoke kind words about everyone – even his enemies. He always told
the children and me just how much he loved us. He wasn’t a “glass half full”
kind of person. He was the kind of person to say “Even if it’s only a drop, I
have something in my glass to work with.”
Julian was a beautiful person
and I want to share the beauty of who he was with the world. His story is
simple, but he deserves to be remembered.
(©)Copyright Stephanie Gomez 2014
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