Hours, Minutes, Days

Four Hundred and Eighty-Two Days

It has been 482 days since the attack.

482 days since I made the devastating choice to run away.

482 days since we lost Hope.

We have been healing, she and I. It has been hard for me to let go of the guilt that I bear. She tells me that I am not to blame, but I know if I had been there, things would have ended differently. I could have saved her and the baby. That thought will be with me until my last breath, but I can not keep it the front of my mind. I can not let this thought control me. We both need each other. Our love is all that will get us through this.

She has sad days, ones that keep her from speaking, ones in which the tears fill her eyes and drown the spark in her eyes. I hold her close in these moments. We sit in silence grieving together, and loving each other in deeper ways than we used to before we felt such loss.

Those dark days come more infrequently and the joy in her eyes that couldn't push through the cloud of grief shows up on a regular basis. The sad always lingers behind our eyes, buried in our hearts, but our world is returning to a semblance of normality, not that we will ever be the same. We have both changed.

But life and our love goes on. We have to go to work and have vacations and laugh when we can because Hope deserves that. We have to laugh and live for all of the times that she couldn't. It would be a dishonor to her memory to continue every day under the shadow of grief. Her memories need wings and ways to spread.

Our pain has made us depend more on each other. It has changed our love, but not weakened it. I need MC like I need the air or water. Without her, the darkness would overtake me. She is the best thing in this world.

I visit Hope's grave often. It is a beautiful place and brings solace to my soul. MC comes sometimes. It is hard for her to see the beauty there, hard for her to imagine the cold ground cradling Hope's body the way that her body used to. She remembers her in other ways, in other places.

MC's body has healed after many months of. pain and therapy. Today, she is in the garden, watering the vegetables, picking some tomatoes and basil for dinner. I watch her from across the yard and notice a smile cross her face. It is the most beautiful sight. I will never take it for granted again.

I ned to hold her, to soak in this moment so I quickly make my way across the yard and wrap my arms around her waist, holding her tightly. "What are you thinking about, Love?" I whisper in her ear.

She leans into me soaking up the sun and the moment of repose. It takes her a minute to answer. "I was just thinking about the air as it blows through my hair and the delicious smell that it brings. I was thinking about the sun, warm on my skin, and of the sound of the birds whistling their tune. I was thinking about you and how much I love you and how lucky we are, despite..."

I interrupt her, wanting to stay in that happy place and not think about the bad, "We are lucky." I respond, nuzzling her neck.

"Jake, I cannot separate my happiness from her. She made me a mom and I still cherish the time that we had together before. I think about how she would be toddling around, sucking on cherry tomatoes and terrorizing the cat. I can almost hear her laugh. I miss her less when I carry her with me in these moments." She looks into my eyes, trying to prove that her words are true, trying to make me understand her heart.

I nod and let the silence rest between us. Holding her tight against my chest, she places her hand over my heart. Mine moves to her stomach where it habitually lay before and after the loss.