At 12:15 today it was two years since Brandon passed away. 730 days. I can say that not a single day has passed that I have not thought of him.
The reminders of his life come in many different forms. Be it a silver Jeep that passes by, seeing Haribo Gummie Bears in the checkout line, or a random toothpick I still find somewhere in the house - two years later. These are the things I smile about. Little tokens that keep his memory alive in my heart. The things I tell Aria so she gets an opportunity to know about her father, especially those little quirks that make a person unique.
I still can't believe that I have made it through these two years. My breath is often taken away as my Facebook timehop pops up in the morning. The CaringBridge updates, photos and posts on my page transport me back in time.
Sometimes I get lost in reliving traumatic moments of those 3 months. Last night after popping a handful of wheat thins in my mouth I was unexpectedly transported back to the hospice facility as images that cut like a knife flashed through my mind. At first I was taken aback by the memory, but I then realized that was the last time I had those crackers, which were a staple snack at the facility. It blows my mind that our senses can link us so deeply to events in our past.
These moments still happen often, but I recover from them quicker now.
Most of the time when I am reminded of Brandon I smile warmly and sit in the moment, truly and deeply grateful for the time we had. But this perspective does not diminish the pain. It is still very much there, I just have more power over it-then it has over me now.
I think Brandon would be proud of where I am, two years later. I surely couldn't imagine how I would survive, and for quite some time I honestly didn't want to. But I've found a place where I can carry him with me as I move forward. It doesn't have to be one or the other. And I think that is exactly how Brandon would want me to live.