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The D-Day

Once I decided to go ahead with blogging about my experience and views about being a widow, I got stuck. I didn't know where or how should I even start. Then it hit me. Start at the beginning. Start with writing about the day that changed my life forever. Some calls it 'heavenly birthday' or 'anniversary of their death'

- I'll go with D-Day.

So mine was an otherwise lovely, sunny, September Saturday. I supposed to have a massage, he supposed to pop into his office, then we supposed to do our grocery shopping (especially iron-rich food, that's good for the baby). I woke up - and he didn't. It was the worst day of my life and I can only think of a handful of events that could be the same or worse (hint: all involve the death of a loved one). Despite the day passing so fast, I remember every minute (trying not to relive it too often), and I also remember feeling like I'm floating around myself, around the whole experience. Then it was over. The next day, it was yesterday and I didn't have the chance to look back - I had to look forward; list all the things I need to do, look forward and keep walking for that little life in me, the last part of him, the biggest gift I've ever gotten from him.

Then a year passed, quicker than I ever imagined - especially because some days seemed like they will never end and I needed to decide how will I mark the day.

And you know what?

I decided not to. I didn't do anything special, and kept it that way every year since. I know many people organize something for that day - a mass, a memorial, a family get-together... I thought long and hard and I decided that I don't want to commemorate the worst day of my life. I remember him 365 days a year. I miss him 365 days a year. I refuse to celebrate the worst day of my life, the day when my heart irreparably broke into a million pieces and both our present and our future disappeared into the thin air. Instead, I choose to just get through it. I take the day off work, and just power through. I tend to have a nap in the afternoon and go to bed early - so the day goes faster and ends sooner.

Of course, this is just me. A lot of people find comfort in honoring their D-Day. And that's great for them and I wish them all the comfort and peace in the world. But if you're like me, please don't feel that you are obligated to do anything. You don't owe anyone an explanation. D-Days s*ck and the only good thing about them that they pass.



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