Pinktober And Me

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, along with National Pork Month. Everything is better with bacon and nitrates, after all.

This month could easily be Life Sucks Month for me if I chose to let a single, yet significant, life-altering moment be the standard by which all other things are measured for eternity. (And beyond, just in case the joke is on me and there is an after-life, after all.)

Very shortly, it will be five years since Mark died.

I don’t want it to be that long – I want it to be perpetually one year from his passing so the finite time with him doesn’t become a fuzzy memory from my distant past. The searing pain of late 2007 has long since passed, but there will always remain a particulate of dull ache at this pinkly festive time of year that time marched on without Mark.

 Not-not-not fucking fair.

Words don’t usually fail me, but in this case they do. I guess you have to have walked in widowed shoes for a moment to get it.

 I am extremely happy with life’s current trajectory. My circle has widened in many directions and I am not unhappy. Given my all-or-nothing approach to most things, I couldn’t live a meaningful life that didn’t include challenging myself with experiences and people that make me happy.

Choosing happiness can be a high-maintenance task. Then again so am I…to which Mark always replied that I was worth it.


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