On May 1, 2022, I grieved for the one year mark since Steve has passed.

It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t an easy year. And I’m sure it might never be easy. But it’s true that you learn to live around your grief, you hide it most of the time. No one understands it but you. And that’s okay, because no one has lived your loss in the same way as you. 

Last time I said I was going off the grid. My birthday was 5 days before Steve passed away. How could I possibly celebrate my birthday, knowing my husband’s end was so close to that date? All of the signs were there. He was no longer eating food – if he was able to take in soft foods like applesauce, I was happy and hopeful. 

But when he surpassed the doctor’s estimate of 4 weeks, and I saw his condition, I thought, okay – while I’m still strong and not a train wreck, I need to deal with the inevitable. 

I made an appointment with the funeral home. I just felt that if I had done this any earlier, I was putting him in his grave before it was necessary. After all, don’t we all hope for miracles?

His best friend came down to sit with him. I told Steve I had to go to the dentist, I didn’t want him to really know where I was going. It was the best little white lie I ever told. Who wants to say, “Honey, I’m going to go make your funeral arrangements”? 

That was on Wednesday, 4/28/2021.

Steve passed on Saturday, 5/1/2021.

Tonight, for some stupid, odd reason, an old song came into my head. 

I told myself, upon the one year after Steve’s passing, I actually survived. I made it through the first year of everything. Every holiday, every celebration, new celebrations, new milestones, me. 

And then, for some odd reason, the chorus of this song came into my head, by Elvis Costello…

Every day I Write the Book. 

Not all the lyrics sync after this.

But, as I try to keep moving on… it’s true… every day I write the book.