Meredith's Bizarre Outlook

Dear Ian -

Seven years? How can it already be 7 years?

Last night I drove past our old house on the West side. The lights were off, it looked empty. There was a little sitting bench on the front porch that we never used. I moved around to the back to see the plum tree. Your plum tree. It's not there anymore. I just about cried when I saw that.

I thought about it a lot of last night, and again this morning. I decided to email my landscaper for the house and ask him about putting a plum tree in the yard, for you.

Oh, that's right, I decided to have a house built! At first I was looking around at houses all over the city. And in my head, I always compared them to the home that we shared. Nothing measured up. There were always major things that I wanted to change about whatever I saw. So I did some math, lots of math and figured out that I could afford to build. So I worked through Veridian, just like we did, but this time from the bottom up.

I am closing on it in April. This all feels surreal.

In sad news, my mom passed away last March. About a week away from her birthday. It was all very sudden and traumatic and the family is still healing from the pain of what happened. But if you see her while in your afterlife travels, could you give her a hug from me and tell her that I love her? I didn't get to tell her goodbye before she left. I am assuming that Loki and you found each other and are paling around now.

I know that I told you about the trip to St. Louis that I was going to take with my friends. Sadly, that never happened. Our trip was supposed to be at the end of March. Mom passed away on the 8th, we have her memorial on the 13th, and days later they started locking down the entire state. State by state, things started closing down, travel was restricted, and large gatherings of people were forbidden. A Coronavirus called COVID-19 caused a global pandemic. Millions of people have gotten sick and hundreds of thousands have died. I have spent most of this last year not really seeing anyone in person, and working completely from home.

Depression became a real and daily factor of my life. I have taken steps to get back on track life wise. I have a lot of things to be thankful and happy for.

I know last year I told you about the awesome friendships that I have made because of a video game. Well, once again, that same game helped me meet someone who has stolen my heart. I met a man that literally lived around the corner from me the last couple of years. And I am ever so grateful for him. He has kept my daily life filled with a smile.

I am grateful for all of the people that are in my life and for my social-bubble during the most effed up year of my life so far. This feels like a horrible movie script some days.



I wish I could say missing you hurts less, but it doesn't.

I told your mom about the plum tree last night. And that I want to plant a new one in my new yard when I messaged with her this morning. I miss being able to meet up with her and just talk and laugh and cry and then laugh some more.

I keep your spirit alive with a lot of the silly things you used to say and do. Most people do not know where it comes from, but I feel a bit of you with me when I say or do those things.

Ian, you forever changed my life.

I love you.
I miss you.
I hope you're at peace.

Love,
Meredith

I literally just started crying in my car in the way to an appointment. The hard, ugly kind of crying that you hope no one ever sees.

I'm struggling. With lots of things. I know I am.

"You're strong. You'll get through this." I know I'm strong. But sometimes I feel so incredibly weak. Like right now.

I feel abandoned. Alone. Sad. Angry. Hurt. Frustrated.

So alone.

I can't even express how alone I feel right now. The sadness is unbearable at times. The Incubus song Dig is what set me off just now.

"Dig me out from under what is covering, the better part of me." That's how I feel right now.

Buried.

Dear Ian,

Today marks 4 years since you left us.



Somehow, this year seem to hurt more than the last couple. It might be that I was floating along, oblivious to just how much this anniversary date was affecting me. Until about Wednesday. Then it was like a punch in the the stomach and I can't seem to *stop* thinking about it. I think that I still miss your presence as least once every day.

This whole last year has been a struggle for me. I had two surgeries, one on both of my feet and then on that stupid bum knee of mine. I am still recovering from the knee surgery. It has proven to be much harder than I anticipated. I promoted at work. Jessica and I are working in the same office again. It has been going really well.

I have some really, really sad news though. Last June, I took Loki in to get her teeth cleaned and she needed a tooth pulled. They put her under anesthesia and her heart rate dropped and then stopped. I broke down at work when they told me. I didn't expect it at all. She was fine and cuddly and sweet the night before. I never imagined that she would never come home again. My boss sent me home that day. I was a complete wreck. And when I had time to really let it sick in, it was like losing the last living piece of our life together. It was like losing you all over again to some degree.



I know how much you loved her. And so did I. I cried like a little girl while typing that. It still hurts. So much still hurts.

I was driving to therapy on Friday. It is a 30 minute drive from my house. I think that I cried 3 or 4 times. I drove past Bonfyre Grill and started thinking about our Valentine's Day dinner mere days before you took your own life. I thought about the phone call from your mom and John and the words that I heard over the phone and how my body just gave out from under me when I got the news. I envisioned what you may have looked like when they found you. I thought about the look on your face that last night I saw you, after we kissed.

Part of me feels like I am so weak for still being so sad. I talked about it with my therapist Friday. He assured me that I am not. But I battle with how and feel and fear of being judged for those emotions.

Your mom and I still connect several times a year. We often talk about you for at least part of our time together. I am very grateful to have her in my life still. I feel like she is one of the few people that really understands what I am feeling and going through.

I want to remember you and smile. It's hard.

Other random things: I finally decided what to do with the money you left me. I think you would be proud and happy with my decision. I adopted a little black and white kitten. I was having trouble naming her and Brett helped come up with a name that I really loved: Glitch. Holy shit I'm going to be 40 this year. For real this time. Not like the facebook party invite that you sent out. KB got married to a really great dude. And KB and I have a really fun project that we started working on.

I wish you were still here.



I love you.
I miss you.
I hope you're at peace.

Love,
Meredith

Dear Ian -

Today marks 3 years since you left us.



Valentine's Day is a bittersweet holiday. Mostly because of how close it is to when you left.

I start thinking about all of the things that I wish I could have shared with you over the last year. And I think about all of that people that love you and miss you. And I cry. People keep telling me that it will hurt less as time goes on. I am still waiting for that to happen.

I texted with your mom earlier this week. We seem to struggle with things around the same time and reach out to one another. It can be comforting, but it also reminds me of all of the other people that are missing you too.

I suppose this is the part of the letter where I tell you what I have been doing the last year. I bought out my car lease. And then I installed a fancy car stereo. The first song I played on it was Ace of Spades, for you. You always controlled my car stereo. Why should that change now? I still preset all of the radio stations that you required. All of the AM stations, including the ones for Milwaukee - so that you could listen to games, no matter where they were playing on the radio. I still haven't figured out what I am doing wrong with sharing your playlists on Spotify.

Random stuff: I went back to work for my old boss at DWD. I still see my therapist every few weeks. I still mention you at least once per session. Winter hasn't been overly awful this year. I changed from an iPhone to a Pixel and I regret doing it. I am hoping the next iPhone doesn't suck. My boss is enjoying my pain - struggling with Android. Loki is 11 this year. Our baby is getting so old. :(

I miss you so, so much. I wish you were still here.

I love you.
I miss you.
I hope you're at peace.

Love,
Meredith

I started this letter well over a month ago and couldn't get past the first sentence until today. So, here it goes...

Dear Ian-

It has been a whole year since you've died.

I haven't planned on using this letter as a way to tell you how much I still love you and miss you. However true that may be.

What I want, is to have a way to communicate the things that have happened to me over that last year. I still feel the need to share my life with you. So, I felt the best way to do that, was through our original medium of LiveJournal.

You would probably be disappointed to learn that I did not attend Beer & Cheese Fest this year. I honestly couldn't face that event without you this first year.

I have more grey hair, thanks to the project I am on. At least that is the story I tell people. Ha.

I think that you would be happy that your mom and I reconnected. I even went out to California to visit her last October.

I put the gift you left me in a special account. I didn't/don't know what to do with it. It still feels overwhelming. But, thank you for thinking of me.

Loki still sits on her stool looking out the window.
I made it one year post LASIK and still have better than 20/20 vision.
I have lost almost 25 lbs since last July.
I wanted to make you proud. At our last dinner, you told me how proud you were of me.
I will never let those words be far from my heart.

I can't stop thinking of all of the things I won't be able to share with you anymore.
No more random text messages.
No more calling me a jerk.
No more making me laugh until my stomach aches.
No more adventures together.

I have to hold on you everything that you gave me.
My life in Madison.
Connection to your mom.
Simple foods done really well.
What exactly should or shouldn't be deep fried.
Appreciation for microbrews, even though I don't drink.

You have helped shape my world in ways I never imagined.
I can't thank you enough for everything.

I hope you don't mind me updating you on what happens in my life.

I love you. I hope you found peace.

Love,
Meredith