As I gained consciousness after the knock woke me up, I thought how quiet the house was. Then realized Matt wasn't laying next me, then the dread. More knocking. I know what that knock is. I know who is on the other side of that door and what they're going to tell me.
For a moment, I thought maybe if I didn't open the door, it wouldn't be real. Life can remain good if I just don't open the door. I took one look at the officer and knew it was over. My husband is gone. Father of our children. This can't be happening. Nothing will ever be the same.
This morning after getting out of bed, I relived that moment. I generally don't choose to relive this stuff - it just happens. Sometimes I can turn it off as soon as it enters my mind; sometimes it plays out against my will. There are times when I let myself relive some of those moments because it brings me closer to the time when Matt was still here. Somehow letting myself feel the pain makes me feel a little closer to him.
Two years later and I still can't believe he's gone. This kind of stuff only happens to other people. I just realized that Sydney has been without her daddy longer than she had him in her life- for six months now.
And now, here I sit, forced to review our life and the manner of his death in writing.
My date of birth. My address. Matt's date of birth. Our wedding date. Our children's names and dates of birth. His date of death. The location of his accident. The date and approximate time. The room where it happened. A detailed account of the multiple injuries he sustained including the physical and emotional anguish, anxiety, distress, fear of impending death... What he must have endured... These are the thoughts that torment me the most. No one will ever know how much he did or did not suffer, because he was alone the whole time. The fact that he was alone when he died sickens me (along with everything else about it).
I review it in my mind often enough without prodding - little flashes here and there that can come out of nowhere - but there's something about seeing it in print and signing my name to it... This weekend of all weekends, too, but I guess no time would have been good for this.