Day 31 of 366

If I had only known.

If I had only known that it would be the last real conversation. The last real hug. The last real “I love you, sweet pea.”

If I had only known that he’d go home and slip into what would become the longest 27 days of mom’s life—the longest 21 of mine.

If I had only known that the next few weeks would be spent balancing a 17-month old, a one-month old, postpartum hormones, supporting my mother, and watching the first man I ever loved die.

If I had only known.

Day 31 of the year is a trigger day for me. It’s just the last day of January for the rest of the world, but to me, it’s the day my world began to change.

And today, that grief is raw. The pain is real. It feels overwhelmingly unbearable, as if it’s a two ton boulder pressed down on my shoulders, making it hard to breath.

But it was also Sweetheart at school. And then we immediately left for the ladies’ retreat we’ve been working so hard on the last six months.

So there’s no time to feel.

There’s no time to break.

There’s no time to play “If I had only known.”

Because if I had, I would have done that day differently. And the shame, the guilt, the regret—especially on days like today—it washes over me.

And I’m left with nothing else to give.