Yet it is tomorrow, February 12th, that I've been dreading the most.
I'm guessing it is quite bewildering as to why tomorrow, not "The Day" holds such weight. But it is tomorrow, that has been looming on my mental calendar. Even my body has betrayed me these last two days allowing me to do very little beyond sleep. Maybe my brain knew what was coming and the energy I'd be needing. Or maybe unconsciously I was hoping to initiate my own "Ground Hog" day and February 11, (February 11, 2019 that is) would forever repeat itself.
I've been truly struggling a bit these last weeks. Martin Luther King weekend was an especially rough time. That time last year was the final time we enjoyed Disney. Thanks to TimeHop I know that January 27th was the last day we went to the movies. I wish I could say we saw something dynamic or Oscar nominated but actually is was a remake of the Arthur story The Kid Who Would Be King; thankfully I remember Michael really enjoying it. Even my good days have been filled with moments thinking this time last year "Our Lives Were Still OK", "We Still Didn't Know" or my favorite guilt ridden thought:"How Didn't You Know".
You see, the thing about tomorrow is that it really should not have come as a surprise if I'm honest with myself. That "Hindsight is 20/20" thing can really mess with your well being . We had to know what was going to be said. The girls and I saw it, hell we were living it. And that's all I'm going to say about that.
But here's the thing No One had said IT.
No One had even hinted that we had lost this battle
No One had suggested that our lives, the lives we had planned were being cut short
Because you see until Some One says IT ~IT isn't real
Until Some One says there's nothing else we can do ~ You Still Have Hope
Until Some One says we're calling Palliative care ~ Your Future Plans Exist
Until Some One says the days are numbered ~ You Can Still Breathe
So I need February 12th to not exist.
I need to not relive the day that I was told OUR life was over.