13 weeks.

It’s been 13 weeks since the worst night of my life, Russ. I’m trying. I really am. Because I know that’s what you want me to do.

Worked on our shields today. Cried some. I keep thinking about how after we built these you wanted to build two more once we knew what we were doing. Kept hearing you in my ear trying to keep me calm and focused while I plotted out the design, because OMG math! LOL

Hope I made you proud, baby. I’m going to put your name on them in runes to memorialize you. Not sure what else I’ll add to them. We hadn’t decided that yet beyond the pinwheels.

13 weeks. I wish I could erase that final image from my mind, all while I give thanks that I found you and got to say good-bye.

Got to see with my own eyes that you were sweetly dreaming.

I’m looking at more cremation jewelry, too. A bracelet and another necklace. I wear the one with the vegvisir all the time and already had to replace the chain once.

I think I’m in the anger phase of grief now. 55. You were only 55. We just celebrated your birthday a few weeks before.

We had plans. We had so many plans, baby. I’m still going to try to do some of them. I want to go to Norway even if my Viking can’t be by my side. Hell, even TV shows we were watching that you didn’t get to see all of. I try to watch and cry because you never got to finish them.

There’s so much we didn’t get to do. And I wish like hell I’d taken more photos and videos. Those and memories are all we have left of you now and it’s not fucking fair. We needed more time with you. You deserved more time here. You were a good man with such a sweet soul and losing you, especially so young, is never going to not hurt like hell.

Love you, baby. Sweet dreams. 🥰💖😘

13 weeks.
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