Jonathan has given me the most magical, most wonderful holiday season imaginable. Just being in love again is a very powerful gift for me. Being with a man like Jonathan, who sees so much good in me, who loves me, who helps me and whom I love back makes an immeasurable difference in my life. This is my life, now. Complete and utter happiness with a man I love.
I will likely say this for the rest of my life, but I can't believe seven years have just about passed. In some bizarre way, when I think back to my seven years of grief, I romanticize them, feeling as though I was somehow happy, which is ludicrous, because I was nothing but heart-broken. I think what I am remembering and feeling and holding onto is the growth I experienced during those years, especially the three years I lived in Cambridge. I loved how I healed, I loved how I learned to walk again, to feel again. I loved who I blossomed into...I think. The thoughts are so convoluted, that I'm having a difficult time deciphering them.
I skipped October and November this year, unaware that I had gone two months without writing. I forgot to write on Chris' birthday for the first time, this year. I posted a happy birthday message on FaceBook, but this is the first time I didn't record how I felt on his birthday in my blog.
I have been on vacation since December 23, and I will be on vacation until January 2. Jonathan has taken the time off, as well.
For the first time in seven years, I can truly say that I have had a joyous holiday season. Truly joyous. The mere thought of Jonathan fills me with feelings of joy, security and safety. I have laughed more in the past two weeks than I have probably laughed in the seven years prior.
I’m aware that the seven-year anniversary of Chris’ death is days away, and I have become teary-eyed over the past couple of weeks, here and there. I’m going to spend that day with my family, the family I gained through Chris; Me, Bonnie, Beth, Bryan, and the girls.
I haven’t been to Chris’ grave since the day of his memorial service in 2005. His family, friends, and I dropped a cherished piece of history of our own in with his urn of ashes, left before the hole was filled in, and I never went back. I might like to visit it this year and maybe take a photo of it.
Is that about closure? I’m not sure.