Wish you were here?

Everyone knows by now that I write something on the anniversary of the day Tom up and left.  I think about it all the time as July approaches.  How am I feeling this year?  What has changed?  Anything?

In truth, nothing has changed.......and every damn thing has changed.  How I feel about Tom will never alter, including the grief and the missing.  But oh my god, has the world shifted on it's axis and now seems poised to just implode in hopeless frustration.  

(Sorry Universe.  We totally blew it.  People are idiots and should never have been given free reign here.)

When Tom was first diagnosed, he was very calm...almost relieved.  He said he thought it would good to get out while the getting was good...to leave at the top of his game.  Of course I resisted that idea, but it was obvious he was resigned to it and really never waivered throughout the whole process.

Now, when everything is so much worse here, it is really tempting to wish he were here.  I'd love to be able to call him, knowing exactly how he'd react ... which would be the same way I was.

But why would I want him to be dealing with everything we are?  

It is so much better to imagine him in some kind of heaven that looks a lot like Hawaii, blissfully doing what he wants, detached from the realities we wake up to everyday... but, of course, still benignly and lovingly jumping in now and then to remind us that he sees us and is still really there.

It makes me feel to good to believe it. 

So I'm going with it.