Just run

Just run.
There are moments, just moments when I want to run. Run.

I feel the anxiety growing inside of me, wanting to take over. A voice pleas in desperation, “just run.” I want to grab Ariyana and Afshin and run away to escape from the pain. I just want to be with them, to be safe, to be free of this pain.

As I write this I feel a little guilt. I am happy and I am so blessed in my life – in what I had and in what I have now. But the truth is, this isn’t the life that I had imagined. I miss Hamid and it hurts that he is not here to watch his children grow up. I remember the day it all began. I see him smiling in the ER. Fear suddenly flashes across his face as he tells me that something is terribly wrong. A few hours later I watch the ventilator mechanically raise his chest up and down. I hear myself telling the surgeon, “Yes, you have my permission to do emergency surgery.” Numbly, I hear “stage iv…3-6 months.” I am pregnant. Just run. I need to run.

Yes, every once in while this feeling of running hits me. It is like a fight or flight reaction and to survive I feel that I just need to protect Ariyana and Afshin and go. But I know that no matter how far I go, I cannot escape it. I guess it is normal, a part of grieving but I guess I feel that there is an expectation to be strong, to be happy. I am both. I found love again; I have two amazing children. I have someone who walks beside me on this journey, someone who loves my children, someone who knows what it means to lose a loved one. But even still, there are moments when I need to fall down and acknowledge the pain and then wipe my wounds and choose to stand again.

Here I am

Today it has been one month since my husband died. Each day I ask myself, how can I live without him, without the love of my life. I always know the answer...it is through faith, our two beautiful children, family, friends. And Hamid wanted me to keep living. But it is so hard. I never truly understood what it meant to have a void but I do now. I have always been happy - Hamid loved that about me. He said I always brought him a sense of peace; I was his light. My light still burns strongly for my children, but some of the lights were blown out and will never be rekindled.

So I go on, grounding myself in routine and habits. Ariyana and Afshin also help to ground me. Ariyana is so full of energy and curiosity. Afshin is one big smile that melts your heart....just like his father! I have to figure out to do it all - balance the children, house and full time job. I know millions of women do it and I will do it, too, but it just wasn't supposed to be like this. We had the perfect life, we had everything we could want. That diagnosis turned our world upside down.

I remind myself of how lucky Hamid and I were to have had 13 incredible years and were more in love than ever. Some people don't find true love. I played "the dance" at Hamid's service - it seemed to speak to me - if I hadn't had this pain, I would have missed out on the beauty of loving Hamid, and his love was worth a lifetime. I miss you so much, Hamid.