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Un-happy Anniversary, Sweetie
Still Missing You – January 23rd, 2011

Sean,
It's been 365 days since you left earth and I'm still missing you.
A whole year without my right arm.
A whole year without the one who could make things right.
A whole year without the one who chose me to be wife and mother.
A whole year without the one who knew me best and loved me anyway.

A whole year. I'm still missing you.

I need you:
Hovering above a heaping bowl of cereal each morning.
Holding our children in your arms.
Retreating to the basement to finish a project.
Telling me how proud you are of me, of us.
Giving our children a bath at night when I'm too tired for the task.
Shoveling for an hour, twice a day, when the snow won't stop.
Laughing at me and with me. Making me laugh.
Pitching our tent trailer.
Raising our son to be a man.
Mowing the grass.
Raising our daughter to be a lady.
Taking pictures to preserve our family's history.
Holding me in your arms, telling me everything will work out fine.
Reminding me I have an anchor in this world.
Reassuring me I'll never be alone.

Please don't think our lives have stopped. We step forward despite our loss - because of it. We laugh, travel, run, cry, play, dance, make new friends, eat new food, scale mountains, climb stairs and find our way. We honor your memory with stories, hugs, tears and ashes. We've sprinkled your earthly bits and pieces from Ireland to Africa to Australia... You have flown through air, floated on water, colored our thoughts as we cover the world.

Sean, I loved you for a decade as your wife. I'll love you decades more as your widow. I'll never stop loving you. We'll never stop loving you.

And we'll never stop missing you.

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