It’s been exactly one week since the world as I knew it ended. 2020 has been the worst year of my life. And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. The love of my life passed away a week ago today. I attended his funeral exactly 30 days after I last saw him. We celebrated my birthday. Two days later he tested positive for covid. Four days later he was in the hospital. After 18 days on a ventilator, he was gone. Besides my parents, who I am so fortunate to still have with me, this man was the only stable force in my life. The one I went to for everything. The one I could count on. The one that made me feel safe. The one I would do anything for. For almost half my life, this man was my rock. I really haven’t had much experience with death. My grandparents lived so far away that although I loved them dearly, I rarely saw them. I was sad. I grieved. I was ok. This however, it gut wrenching. Uncontrollable sadness and tears. Regrets. Confusion. Hopelessness. I truly do not understand how one recovers from this. How can my life ever be ok again? How do you survive this? How do you even care about life again?
