It's so hard to believe that 2 years ago today Jack died. Technically he died on the 21st, but he was declared dead at 12:22 am on 3/22. It's still hard to believe that 2 years have gone by since then.
Much has happened in the last year. By the time the 1 year anniversary of his passing rolled around, I'd completed my RN refresher course. So, in early June I found a job. Yep. I went back to work. In addition to being a single mother, I'm now I working single mother. I went back to hospice nursing which I love. Seems odd to be a relatively recent widow and still work with the dying. All I can say is that it's my calling, and this hospice is very supportive of its employees.
I frequently think about Jack when I'm working. Especially if I'm doing something that involves body fluids. Jack used to frequently say that my best day at work was worse than his worse day imaginable. The man did not see how anybody could be a nurse. All he asked was that I not discuss work over dinner. OK, I can understand that. I didn't always abide by it, but I can understand it.
The other big thing is that I bought a house. I plan to stay in this house for a long, long time. It's only a couple of miles from where we used to live. It's ours and just right for us. It has yard space and we each have a room, plus there's office space. While I haven't unpacked Jack's magickal items yet, I did do one thing today. I buried some of his ashes in the back yard in a special place. That way a part of him will always be here at our new home.
I was talking to the school nurse today. She commented on how well I've handled Jack's death with the kids. I let them talk about it whenever they want to, and it's not very often. But we do remember him frequently. He's still a part of our life, just not in physical form. They get that death is a part of life. You can miss someone, but life still goes on. Sarah is so much like Jack, too. She looks so much like him, and she has some of his mannerisms, and she can be so sensitive.
I frequently think of new blog entries to do, but by the time I'm sitting in front of the computer, I've forgotten all about it. I still want to do one on the kind of father Jack was. (Loving.) And how he loved watches. I'm sure there are others lurking in my mind somewhere.
What I've learned in the past 2 years is this: whether we want it to or not, the world keeps turning and life goes on. But he's still missed. It's not as intense as it once was, but it's still there. And I'm OK.