In my despair and grief stricken, not knowing how I could move forward with so much darkness and unbearable pain, I wished I could just fast forward to three years after David’s death.

Well here I am three years later. Did it go by fast or was it slow? Frankly, I am not sure.  I am still confronted with how did this happen? How have I lived three years without David?  How is it that my younger daughter has now spent more of her life without her Dad? How is it that my older daughter schooling has been void of David attending any of her school events? The reality is that time did not make this better.

Does time help? It helps establish a new norm. A norm I have to accept, a norm my children question. The questions from my youngest daughter are now most difficult to answer. While she cried about missing her Dad’s death in the past, now she questions it throughly. Why did he have to die? Why did he get sick? What caused the sickness? Why couldn’t the Doctor fix him? Does everyone get sick and die?  Isn’t death for very old people? Why don’t I have a Dad? The pain my older daughter feels also gets quite intense, she wants one more day, just one more day, one more hug and kiss.

Over the three years, there have been lot of challenges and there have also been lots of smiles and laughter. I find even the happiest moment, I cry. Tears of joy for what we have accomplished but also tears of sadness of what we are missing.

I woke up this morning remembering the first time I had sushi, it was with David. The idea of eating raw meat was repulsive to me and I questioned why David eats Sushi. He eventually persuaded me to at least try it once. I remembered when I finally tasted it there was nothing remarkable about the taste but there was a huge satisfaction knowing I tried it. Over the years I developed a taste for sushi and it is something I now enjoy.

As I reflected on the sushi experience, I am reminded of how much David opened my mind to things.  He always encourage me to keep an open mind as he often said “Never say never”. I am thankful for this valuable lesson since there are many things that would have seemed impossible to me to navigate over the last three years but I knew I had to do it.

Last year, I opened my mind about a career opportunity and as a result we moved from the  US to Europe. It was the right decision but it was also a tough one since I knew I had to finally decide what to do with David’s things. For the next 6 months leading to the move, with lots of tears, smiles from memories, and determination, it did it and sorted his things in three groups (storage, donation, or move). His home office was the hardest one, so many memories in there, plus it was the best retreat for David and his daughters after work hours.

Three years later, David we continue to build on your legacy. You are too great a man and a father not to be missed forever.  Your memories are ever present and even your baby talks about you like she remembers so much, this makes me so happy.

Your untimely death will always bring me sadness, this is indisputable. I also promise to not use your death as a reason to short change life for me and your daughters.

Rest well my dearest David. I love you so much!