It was a week ago today. Two days after Father's day, nearly a week after he'd passed. A week that was full of meeting with the funeral director, choosing flowers, ordering a casket, endless phone calls, picking out music, typing up the program, sorting through thousands and thousands of photos that told the story of our love and life together. My sweetheart. So much heartache, so many mixed emotions. It still doesn't feel real.
Much love to my dear friends Tracy Layne and Justin Hackworth for taking beautiful photos on the day, that my children and I will keep close to our hearts forever. I'm sharing a few from Tracy today to honor the anniversary, to help me accept a bit more, and to encourage you to hold onto your loved ones a bit tighter.
If you're not in the mood for a heavy picture story, or if you feel uncomfortable viewing and reading more details of my husband's funeral, feel free to click away, but please come back later. ♡♡♡
Thank heaven for me sweet children. Just as they have kept me smiling every day through the hardest months of my life, trying to put our situation into words that they can understand has helped me understand it more myself.
Trying to explain to my little 6-year-old Ellie that everyone we loved was going to get together for a special day for daddy, that there was going to be lots of hugs and tears because we all missed him so much, helped me prepare for it myself.
Telling my innocent 5-year-old Sophie that we were going to be seeing daddy's body for the last time, that it was okay to be sad for ourselves but that we should be happy for daddy, helped me to acknowledge those things as well.
Finding the words for John, my 4-year-old, that daddy's body was in that beautiful box, that it would keep his body safe in the ground, and that he wasn't sick or hurting anymore, helped me to accept those things a bit more too.
And telling my sweet 2-year-old Lydia, to say "goodbye daddy, see you soon." while we laid our hands on Martin's casket, solidified in my mind a beautiful picture of our family all together again one day, and I could close my eyes and almost feel his warmth and hear their sweet giggles.
It doesn't matter what you believe in, but at the end of all things life is so precious, people are important, and what matters the most is love. Telling my sweet children that I know, that the love they have for their dad, and the incredible love that he has for them is strong enough to keep them connected forever and ever, and that they'll see him again one day... That's the only thing that can make them smile again, and give them hope to keep going.
And telling them that every day helps me to hope too, and to smile, and to keep going.
I miss you so much, Martin.