This was one of the roughest weeks I've had in a long time. Last Monday I had to take a friend to the Mayo Clinic for a surgery. She needed to put on a pressure stocking before the operation, and I started to put it on her. I hesitated and looked for that bump on the ankle....the bump that Mark had from shattering his ankle and having major surgery, and the hardware had never been removed. It left a significant bump on his ankle. Every time I get into a nurturing frame of mind...it's supposed to be Mark that I'm taking care of.
So, I spent the better part of the day waiting to hear from her surgeons how everything went, and that voice in the back of my mind saying "I should be here waiting for Mark's surgery". It made me so sad...I was frequently going to the bathroom so I could cry in peace.
Then, we had the big 9/11 day. 9/11 was personal to both Mark & I. Mark was raised in Omaha, but NYC was his hometown in his heart. He lived there for six or seven years before he moved to Minneapolis. We should have high tailed it back to NYC after we met...I think he would have been happier there. Whenever he would talk about NYC....his eyes would shine. We honeymooned there just a few weeks before all of it happened. He could get lost in his own neighborhood in MN...but never in NYC. He knew it like the back of his hand. I'm glad that he went there a month before he passed away.
We also celebrated our anniversary monthly. On the 11th of every month Mark would come strolling in with a bouquet of flowers and a card...and that big sweet smile that would have been more than enough on its own. All of those factors combined with the public grieving over 9/11, talking heads, and news about it excruciating. I did my best to avoid as much as possible. They say that when one person yawns it's contagious....it tends to trigger a yawn in anyone who views it. Grief is like that too....watching crying family members on tv made me feel like crying. I used to feel empathy....now I feel IT.
Then, Mark's "Birthday Weekend". We always did a full weekend, usually before the birthday. I would have made all of his favorite foods, steak, lobster, beef stroganoff (I gave up trying to duplicate his mom's mostaccioli and meatballs), sometimes we'd go to a concert, and in general we'd do whatever he wanted to do. One day wasn't enough...we had to have a weekend plus. This is the first birthday without him. He would have been just 44 years old...it's just not fair, it's not right. I'm mad, and I'm sad. I want to SCREAM that a stupid mistake was made. THIS MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE!
I just hope that if he is somewhere, he knows that I love him with all of my heart, his whole family does. We're all grieving him - a man who questioned how important he really was. He was the world to me.
Remind those that you love how important they are. Everyone needs to feel important and special....and they are.
Natalia
