“Live like you were dying….”

This familiar Tim McGraw song resonates with those of us that are flying through life with little regard that life is precious and can be taken at any point. Somehow facing this six months to live sentence could not be any further from this song. Living out your bucket lists become nearly impossible when you are fighting a disease that steals your energy and requires doctor visits around the clock. As I watch my love fight so hard, a clock potentially ticking in the background has me walking around this world as simply a shell of myself. How is this possible that you find your soul mate and he could leave you before we even had a chance to enjoy the fruits of our labor or grow old together. He has poured his heart on every dish for his entire career. Just getting started really, DTB built from his mind, to your table. His creative visions are endless. How could this beautiful mind be taken from this world? Despite the fact that we have been facing this, it seems to be more real now that we are out of options. How do we freeze time? How do you make memories with this much sadness. I am a fighter. Yet the fight in me is suddenly gone. I am not sure who I will become if this goes down. My entire world wrapped up in this love, my identity entirely surrounding my family. This week was painful, and it was only one week apart. We had a fuse blowout in our house, a speeding ticket, homework fights, and I just felt empty without you here. Every night falling into our bed, your side all made up perfectly, haunting me of the possible idea that this could be my forever. What would it feel like to not have you there to wrap my arms around, or lament about my day. All that I am in this world only seems to make sense with you by my side. What happens to me when you are no longer here? Am I strong alone or because of your love and faith in me? All these questions of death, don’t make me want to skydive. They make me look at my children and cry. They make me look at healthy young people and crave for more time together. I dream of holding hands forever. I pray for many more crafted dinners, beautiful wine, and freedom from all the pain he is feeling. I pray for our babies, I cannot even think about what will happen to them in this process. Every holiday feels special because it may be our last. This is like a slow painful crash, and we are holding on for dear life. Praying it won’t happen, but bracing for it. This is how it feels to live like you are dying.


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