And I'm not referring to Basketball tournaments, although sadly both my teams are out of the running. Over the past handful of years, March has become it's own rite of passage I must endure each year. Too many memories good and bad are bottled up within a few short weeks. The mind and body both remember. A fog descents and I become disoriented in a maze of grief over my lost soulmate and our life together.
As hard as it is for me to say this, each year becomes exponentially less devastating. My present more grounded and real. The past a beautiful shadowed sketch.
Progress can be felt in all directions. And while I don't miss Chuck any less, my definition of home keeps being rewritten without him. It's a kin to moving away from your home town. Eventually, your new local becomes home - you. When I visit Pittsburgh, I am immersed in all the familiarity, love and joy for my first home base. Yet even as I rejoice in being back, I know that I don't fit there any longer. And it's always a heartbreaking reminder of the paths we walk and choices/dreams we needed to leave behind. That is a fraction of what March is for me.
This March contained a road trip, wedding, family time, friends, work, volunteering and a new adventure to start. There was more evidence of Chuck's spirit walking beside me as I journeyed through this month than I've seen and felt in a long time. Including a glorious rainbow as we had dinner on his birthday. And concrete evidence that I'm not that only one who aches from his missing presence in their lives.
No longer do I feel like I've run a marathon to get through these late winter days. Nor the euphoria for having survived them. I'm just back to my "normal" levels of missing Chuck. And the un-grantable wish that there was an alternate ending to our story.
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