Two Months

Two months ago, you breathed.

And then, two months ago, you didn’t.

 

 

In the last two months, I’ve gone to bed zero times and woken up one time and you were breathing.

In the last two months, I have gone to bed 60 times and woken up 61 times and you weren’t breathing.

 

In the last two months, I could have called you for approximately 4 waking hours.

In the last two months, I couldn’t have called you for approximately 1456 hours.

 

In the last two months, I’ve wondered what would have happened if I had called you in those 4 waking hours.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you would have answered if I had called you in those 4 waking hours.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered what I would have said if I had called and you had answered.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered what you would have said if I had called and you had answered.

 

In the last two months, the window of time I could have figured out that you were going to leave was miniscule….mostly because I didn’t know there was a window.

In the last two months, every other moment after has been full of wondering how I didn’t.

 

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you thought I didn’t appreciate you for you and not for things.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered what would have happened if I had just refused all of the things.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you believed I wanted the things more than I wanted you.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you knew how much I came to despise the things.

 

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you just didn’t think you would ever feel like you again.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you were sorry that you were my daddy.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you were mad that I couldn’t figure it out.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you thought I took you for granted.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if I didn’t give you enough respect.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if I didn’t give you enough things.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if I didn’t make you smile enough.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if I didn’t hug you enough.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you didn’t think you were loved enough.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you left to teach me a lesson.

 

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if when you were talking, you were really crying, but I didn’t hear you.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if when I was talking, you could hear me crying.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if when I wasn’t talking, you could hear me crying.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you knew that I was crying at all.

 

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if you ever knew me at all.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if I ever knew you at all.

 

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if I would ever know anything for sure ever again.

 

In the last two months, I’ve wondered what your “new life” is like.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if your “old life” even matters in your “new life.”

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if there was ever a purpose in having us in your “old life” if you are just off living a “new life” without us.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if, in your “new life,” you even know I exist.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if, in your “new life,” you even know I exist because of you.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if, in your “new life,” you know that, right now, I just exist.

In the last two months, I’ve wondered if, in your “new life,” you know that, right now, I just exist because of you.

 

 

In the last two months, I’ve learned that I hate my life without you in it.

In the last two months, I’ve learned that I will spend the rest of my life wondering.

 

Because two months ago, you breathed.

And then, two months ago, you didn’t.

 

2 thoughts on “Two Months

  1. Marsha, I have struggled with being happy with my life since I lost my Mom and 4 years later lost my Dad. I can’t say that 10 and 6 years later that I’m completely happy with my life. I know how that feels. I’m so sorry you are going through this. And I don’t know what else to say. All of the typical things that people say when you lose a loved one are … Well … Not helpful… Except when they just say I’m sorry you are hurting and I’m praying for you. And .. I do think about you often and pray for you often, and well as the rest of your family. Hugs to you sweet girl!

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  2. Marsha, Praying for you and all of your family, no one knows how others hurt, but we do understand the pain that you are going through. God will walk through this trip with you, however, that doesn’t “fix” everything, please try to walk through this journey one day at a time. We love you and keep you in our prayers. Love, Marvin & Mrs. Pog

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