Some of these classmates did not know my story at first.
On purpose, I did not tell them.
I told some of them way after they got to know me.
And it was really after trying to explain why I knew something about how hospitals work.
It was inevitable detail to the explanation.
Some of them still had no idea.
I did not want it to define me.
Last night, one person who knew and one who did not were sitting at my dining room table.
We were studying and chatting.
And as I was telling a story to the one who knew and assuming both did know, the other said, "Wait, what husband?"
"My husband died almost a year ago."
"Almost a year ago" rang in my ears.
The words just resonating.
The words send my stomach sinking.
My head was trying to wrap my mind around the words.
It was the first time I had uttered those words.
"Almost a year"!!!
Tomorrow it will be eleven months and then after that it will truly be "almost a year."
How did this happen?
How did I get so close to the year mark.
I do not want it to be a year ago.
Or even almost a year ago.
And definitely not more than a year ago.
It is not possible.
It is not possible that it has been that long since I talked to him.
That long since we held hands ("we" as in Roger was an active participant).
That long since we kissed.
That long since we told each other we loved each other.
That long since I left him in the OR.
That long since his ashes came to rest at home.
The best analogy I can think of to the way I am feeling right now is holding back a door that has an intruder on the other side.
Sitting right in front of it pushing my weight against the door.
I can try my hardest to keep him out.
But I know it is only a matter of time.
He is bigger than me.
He is stronger than me.
He will push the door down.
I am only delaying it.
He is banging on the door.
Screaming for me to let him in.
And I am getting weaker.
I cannot fight much more.
I cannot deny it much longer.
It will happen.
August will come in.
His birthday is eleven days away.
Less than two weeks.
The burial of his ashes and the anniversary of the accident fifteen days after that.
My eighteen month wedding the following day.
And then his actual death anniversary five days after that.
Oh, please help me get through this.
I so want to survive once again.