Matt, today is your seventh angelversary. I asked for a sign that you are at peace and I woke to a snow storm. You loved the snow. The last time it snowed like this was when I was trying to fly your body home from Florida. Flight after flight was canceled due to the inclement weather. I would go outside as the snow was falling staring into the sky asking if this was you.
Today feels like it did the very day 7 years ago when I found out you were gone from this earth. It’s called muscle memory. My body hurts. Every muscle, every bone remembers the shock that hit as I heard the words “ It’s Matt, he’s dead”.
I close my eyes and feel my soul break as I hear the guttural screams that came from my being as the reality of those words found their way into my brain. I remember and return to that place of disbelief and breathlessness. The moment I too wanted to die before you got too far away. In my shock and grief I thought I could catch up with you as we left the pain of the world behind together.
My brain, like a projector continues to plays the events that happened the week of your death. Every detail burned into memory. Every feeling burned into my soul.
I look at your pictures. I touch your urn hoping to break the spell that your death has cast on this day. I must survive as I know this grief has no plans to go.
Seven years feels like yesterday. It also feels like forever. 💜🙏🏻