Brian's boss sent me an email yesterday stating that Sept. 1, 2009 would have been Brian's 6th year anniversary at AmCad. The place he loved going to everyday was the place that helped take his life. Ok, so that is just my opinion, but I feel the stress from his job contributed to his untimely death. I know that heredity, diet and other things contributed as well, but still. They stole his sole and took advantage of a very good man. He never said no. He made whatever they wanted work.
I miss talking to him. After class yesterday I wanted to call him on my way home. I miss the hugs and kisses. I miss hearing his voice. What happens if I forget his voice? I know I have videos of the girls and him, but I'm not ready to watch them yet.
This semester I have a full load. How am I ever going to get through this without him. I depended on him for so many things. He got me through so many projects and papers. He always knew how to talk me down from one of my anxiety attacks. Brian would proof read my assignments and give me feedback. He would keep the girls while I attended classes. He would make dinner and put them to bed. Oh how I miss him. I know that I have to finish this program in order to support my family, but I was hoping to do so with Brian by my side. I wanted him to be in my graduation picture.
I find myself, purposefully, not looking at pictures of him. I'm not sure if it is too painful or if I like to pretend he is still away. I want to get new pictures of the girls together. I was going to do it for his birthday, but his time ran out. I thought of having the 4 of us done, but that is so permanent. Us, without him.
Taylor has been giving me a really hard time lately. Her temper tantrums are coming more often. Over the weekend I had to drag her out of Costco screaming. I had told her that she couldn't have a lava lamp and she threw a fit. I had her sisters put the Halloween costume back. She didn't deserve anything for that behavior. That is when she hit me with her cast. When I grabbed her she proceeded to bite me on my arm. I still have the bruise. With that I left my mother to pay for our items and took Taylor to the van. What on earth do I do with her? Is it grief, age, or anger? Is she just testing me? I'm so done with this. I'm hoping when school starts that she will get better. Maybe we all need a little structure in our lives. I have enjoyed spending the summer with the girls, but we all need to get back to reality. Even if it does suck!
We are all moving forward into these uncharted waters. Together we can do it. For better and for worse.
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