Touched

Kobi,

I knew the day of your viewing that it was going to be the hardest thing I've ever done(aside from identifying you), to see you in your casket. I knew I would lose it. And I did. I collapsed before I even made it to your side. I sobbed, and then I ran out yelling. I was screaming about how incredibly pissed off I was. Because I was, and I am. I threw up on a tree, took some deep breaths, and knew I had to go back in there. I walked slowly up to you, towards your feet, I wasn't ready to be that close to you.

I stood there at the end of your feet for what felt like forever. I stared at you, in shock, for quite a while. Casey holding me from behind, and I'm pretty sure keeping me upright. I looked at your face, coated heavily in make up. Your hands, with no black nail polish for the first time in a long time. Your uniform. Your hat. Your beard that was darker than usual. You lacked your usual color. You looked like you, but I noticed every difference. Every difference from when you were living.

However, I couldn't touch you. I eventually stood up by your head, but I never once touched you. I remember when I decided I couldn't. I put your lightsaber in, next to you. When I dropped it in, I saw it hit your arm. Your arm didn't budge. My heart sunk. And when I put in the picture of the girls, I reached over you, saying in my head the entire time, "Please don't touch him, please don't touch him."  I was barely breathing then. Somedays, I'm still barely breathing.

I wanted to hold your hand. I wanted to kiss you on the cheek. I wanted to comfort you. And I regret it all the time that I couldn't do that for you. I wanted to be stronger. I wanted to hold you and tell you that you are safe now. That I won't let anyone hurt you anymore. I'm so very sorry, Bubby.

The last time I touched you was on Easter. You had just said goodbye to the girls and given them all hugs and kisses, I just told them to go to bed. I asked you if you had everything. I told you to let me know when. you made it home safely. I kissed you and then we hugged, and I remember my hand running across your back in a comforting motion. We said we loved each other, and as you were walking out of my door, I told you to be careful and you said you would. I watched you get into your car and drive away. I wanted that to be the last time I ever laid my hands on you. When I could feel you breathing. When your arms were wrapped around me too. I hope you can understand that I wanted to remember you that way instead.

I love you so much. I miss you.

Sissy

Remembering You

Bubby,

Right now the kids are sitting on the couch watching tv, eating snacks and for the most part, behaving. It's raining outside and I just made a cup of tea.

I'm missing you something awful today, but really, that's every day.

I'm all out of words because I think I've used them all to describe how much I miss you, and how much I love you. And even the words I have used, do not even scratch the surface.

I often feel Mom guilt because I know that my grief gets in the way of my parenting. I know that I'm not the Mom I once was. The Mom you loved and were so proud of.

But today, in this very moment, my children are fine. And I am not. So I'm going to take my tea, and sit in my sunroom, listen to the rain hit the roof and give myself some time to miss you. Guilt free.

I can't wait to imagine your face, your laugh and what your hugs felt like. I can't wait to relive all of our beautiful memories together. I promise I will do my best to laugh through the tears.  Meet me there...

Love and missing you as always,

Sis

There is No Peace

Kobi,

Running use to be my happy place. A place I could escape my problems. A place I could leave all my problems behind and out run them. So of course I thought running would be good for me. I thought it could be good for me to get out my anger and frustrations and leave them behind. However, when I stepped on the treadmill today, something very different happened. I ran harder and faster then I ever have. I ran so hard I had an asthma attack, on top of my panic attack. I was getting tired, and then I got angry at myself. I thought, if you could run as far as you did, with bullets in the backs of your legs, then I could run and run and run. I imagined you running from the front of your building, to the back of your building being shot at, scared and with your broken leg, still running. So I ran until my lungs wouldn't let me anymore.

My happy places are no longer happy. My favorite things were your favorite things. My favorite things haunt me. You, haunt me. Going to the morgue, haunts me. Walking through the funeral home picking out your casket and your vault, haunts me. Seeing your name in stone, haunts me. Part of me is smart enough to know this is my PTSD talking. This will get better like it has before. I will some day have a clear head again. Some day. But that feels so far away. I need it to come sooner, rather than later. But I know my limits, and I know how much I love you, and I realize this is going to be an incredibly long and difficult process. I know there is no skipping steps, and my heart wouldn't let me if I tried.

These thoughts are invading. They are infecting me with a sickness that I can't shake. Tearing me from what little sanity I have left. Taking a step back didn't help. I'm trying to take a step forward into a busy life that hopefully leaves me less time to freak out. The only problem is, I always talked to you when driving. So that absence and emptiness is felt there too. I just need to talk to you. I need to ask you how I should do this. How should I do this, Kobi? We said this would be bad, but holy crap. We could have never imagined this. This early, this horrific, this way. You would tell me I can't dwell on this. I can't torture myself this way because it will eat me alive. I know it, but I can't stop it. It's like seeing a car accident happening but you can't do anything to prevent it.

I want to go back and see you. I want to go back to when my life made sense. I want that brief moment of peace and comfort back that I had in that dream. The one where I walk into my house and you are sitting on my couch and I tackle you. I wrap my arms around you and I don't let go. I want to wrap my arms around you and tell you how much I love you, how much I need you. I want you back. There is nothing else more profound that I could say than that. I want you back. I want my life back and I want you to have yours back.

I love you. And I miss you so freaking much.

Sissy