As my 39th birthday draws near, I can't help but think about how Jeff didn't make it to 39. I know this was also something I thought about last year as I hit the 38 year mark.
I'm trying to identify the feeling and I think I've come down to a little bit of anger and a lot of sadness. Angry that he was robbed of life and experiences so soon, but mainly sadness that he and I were both robbed of experiences together.
I think about how we would have changed in these last 5 years, not only as a couple together but also individually, if he would still be alive.
I just can't help but feel survivors guilt when I think about why his life was cut short and I'm still alive to learn and grow and experience.
It reminds me that every day is a gift. We should all be grateful for the life we have and continue to strive for happiness, which has a different meaning for each of us. Jeff only made it to 38 and didn't get the opportunity to see 39 years.
Through all the grief work I've done and all of the other losses I've experienced since he's been gone, I am truly grateful for the growth I've made and the happiness I've been able to find.
I still really hate cancer for making me a widow though.
