The Portal: Portal-ity Thoughts

Dear John, Year 4. November 4. I miss you. That part doesn't change with days or months or years.  It's still a horrific hole in my heart.  I want to preface this post by saying these are my thoughts, what's been on my mind.  I'm not looking to argue or debate, I'm just sharing how I feel . . . The thoughts in my head have finally gotten to the place where they are keeping me up at night, and I miss sleeping. If I've been good at anything, it's sleeping. So this morning, I'm up before the sun to get these words out of my head, at least for a while. I always go back and read the "anniversary" posts so I remember what those years looked like. Year One:  Devastation.  Court. Utter sadness and disbelief.  Trying to understand and learn about addiction - Substance Use Disorder.  I shared your story hoping to educate others.  Well, the war on opioids is still raging, and it's worse. CoVid had not helped. The isolation has not helped. The dr...

As the year 3 mark approaches – I find myself in a quiet and melancholy place. Year one was shock and horror, people, appointments with the DA – almost a blur. I learned how to listen to books to put me to sleep – as I couldn’t read, and I am still struggling to finish one book the old fashioned way, although I’ve started many. Brain fog, disbelief, searching, what-ifs. It was a year of people not knowing what to do with us, of mountains of tears and extreme emotions.  Of anger and profound sadness.  A year where food lost its flavor and coffee became all that tasted good.    I avoided people, places, and questions.  It was a year that I couldn’t talk about him without crying, where I dreaded any kind of get together because of the questions that were asked and because of the reality of the lives we were living.  I said no.  I know it hurt people’s feelings, but how could they possibly understand how a wedding or a graduation party ripped our heart...