Because I’ll Always Wonder

Today makes six months without Emily. I’m in disbelief that so much time has passed. It doesn’t seem like it’s been half a year. Yet here we are.

I wish I could say that it’s gotten easier, but it hasn’t. I still cry at least once every single day (usually more than that), and my mind frequently focuses on the “what ifs” and regrets. I keep telling myself to hold on just a little bit longer, and the weight of it all will eventually become lighter. But, the more time passes, I can’t help but continue to wonder what might have been.

I’ll Always Wonder What Could Have Been Different

Two weeks ago, I fell apart in therapy as I explained an especially difficult night I had shortly after moving back into the bedroom. As I talked it out with my therapist, I kept telling her, “I wish I’d done more in those final hours.”

My therapist, being the incredible person she is, asked me a loaded question: “What could you have done that would have changed the outcome?”

Of course, every response I gave was met with a response that essentially dismantled what I said.

I first said I wish I’d taken her straight to Vanderbilt Monday night instead of the hospital near our house. My therapist came back with, “Would she have been seen by a doctor any sooner? Did anything in her labs on Monday night indicate a bigger issue than her gallbladder? Would they really have had more time to get her ready for surgery?”

I then said, “I wish I’d made her feel better during those final hours.” My therapist laughed and said, “Weren’t you next to her the entire time? You literally held a puke bucket for her and told her you wouldn’t leave her side. Is there really much more you could have done to comfort her?”

I next said that I wish I’d said something more profound when Emily told me that “it’s about to happen again” that third and final time. My therapist challenged that with, “Didn’t you tell her that it was going to be okay? I know you’re a romantic, but you had no way of knowing it was the end. In that moment, you offered her reassurance with your words and your presence.”

Finally, I told my therapist I wish I had fought harder to stay in the room when Emily crashed that final time. She replied with, “Would Emily have even known you were there? Is there anything to say she was ever conscious again? Could you have performed CPR better than the medical staff? Would you have really wanted to watch them take extreme measures?”

I think it’s easy to question things when hindsight is 20/20. I also think the unknowns still hang over my head, and that leaves the door open for blame and guilt. But, even if we do eventually get the autopsy results, I think part of me will always wonder.

I’ll Wonder What Could Have Been

Even after she crashed the first time, Emily and I were still focused on the future. We spent the hour between her first and second “episodes” talking about what we wanted the wedding party to wear and funny little things we wanted to work into the day. She also insisted multiple times that I not sell our concert tickets for Lizzo or Demi, because she felt certain she’d still be out of the hospital before the weekend.

Now I’m left with so many questions about what our future might have looked like.

I wonder what the wedding planning process would have looked like. I can’t imagine what it would have felt like to stand at the end of the aisle and watch her walk towards me (I probably wouldn’t have been able to contain my excitement over seeing her in a wedding gown). I wish I knew what she would have said for her vows and how much I would have cried during our first dance together.

I wonder where we would have gone for our honeymoon. I can’t imagine how long it would have taken us to check all 50 states off her bucket list. I wish I knew what other vacations she would plan for our family and what other grand adventures she’d find for us as a couple.

I wonder what our child would have looked like. I can’t imagine how incredible it would have been to see Emily hold a baby for the first time as a mother. I wish I knew how she’d handle all of our child’s first milestones.

I wonder what it would have been like to grow old with Emily. I can’t even imagine the fun we would have had together in retirement. I wish I knew what it would have been like to see her as a grandmother and whether she would have still been just like a big kid in her 80s.

I Wonder What She Thinks

I’ve always valued Emily’s opinions on things. Now that she’s gone, I find myself frequently wondering what she’d think about everything that’s happened over the past 6 months and whether or not she’d judge my decisions. I hope that she’d be proud of me, but I just don’t know.

Every time I visit her at the cemetery, I ask her questions. Sometimes I try to find some sort of sign that seems like a response. I know it’s not realistic, but sometimes, when I’m really not sure what to do, small changes in the angle of the sun or a sudden gust of wind help me feel like she’s still here, if only for just a moment.

I can’t believe it’s been six months. And, at the same time, the fact that it’s only been six months makes me dread the next however long I have stuck here on Earth. I’ll never feel like we had enough time, and because of that, I’ll always wonder. But, because I can’t change the past and bring Emily back, all of my wonderings will go without an answer.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

A Website.

%d bloggers like this: