Brad 1971-2008

As most of my friends know, my ex husband and the father of my daughter died one month ago. From all the evidence he died the night of April 21, and a number of us in his family believe that he died at 12:09am (which would officially be the 22nd). However, Brad was not discovered until Tuesday April 29th, when his sisters broke into his apartment to look for him.

There is no need for me to go into the details surrounding his death, the details are haunting. It was accidental and it is tragic. I have never felt such grief in my life. My complex and oft times difficult relationship with Brad is exacerbated by his death and I am struggling to put the pieces together.

Grief is a fickle mistress. The first week I was numb, sick and distraught. The second week I was doing better. I remember being shocked at the first day when I didn't cry within a 24 hour period. The third week was hard, as my cognitive abilities started to kick back in and I sat with the weight of so much that had happened during the week he was missing and the week after we found out. This week? It's been a rough one. It's funny how I will be okay and rolling along one moment and then I will be sobbing the next. I enjoy my quiet days, listening to the birds sing, though dread the quiet nights after everyone is in bed. That first week of grief was much the same. The nights brought such pain and I would fall asleep after sobbing into my pillow.

I have been blessed to be able to hold on to some peace amidst all of this pain. I am grateful that Brad's family allowed me to be a part of every step of the funeral process. I feel closer to them now, more than ever. I hope that we are able to stay close, and that Emily will find connection with them. I am grateful that Graham has been so supportive and understanding. I am grateful for the love and care I have received from my friends and some family. I am thankful for my spiritual grounding that has carried me through the hard days and harder nights. It doesn't make the pain any less; it doesn't make the pain easier to hold, but it does make the pain meaningful. There are times when I just have to tell a friend that I am sobbing and in pain, just because I can't hold it all myself. I am blessed that I was able to face the difficult acts of cleaning his apartment and being present for his cremation - both of which I struggle with now as I sit with them in my head; both of which I wouldn't have traded for the world.

I start back to classes this week. I already have so much homework to do (before class even starts!) that I can't even see straight. So, I will press on. What else can I do? But the pain is so real and so present. I am going to Nar-Anon meetings to try and work through some of this. Therapy is not far behind. For the first week, I couldn't listen to music, knit, swim, anything. Noise hurt my body. Now, I am swimming again and loving it. It really is the most meditative thing I do. I am able to completely empty myself and swimming feels like flying. It is so zen and my favorite thing to do these days. I still am not knitting but can listen to music and watch some TV. I am still very sensitive to noise.

I am worried about being alone all weekend, this week. But, there isn't much I can do about that.

Rest In Peace Brad - I know you had joy and light in your life - I just wish you could have had more of it. All I ever wanted was for you to be healthy and happy. You were not your addiction. You were not your demons. You were a beautiful and bright soul, who wrestled with such darkness. I hope you have found peace. We miss you so much and we love you.