And so it is

I am continuing to evolve. Every day is a new thought, a new process. My life isn't as dismal, there is no light at the end of the tunnel. There are lights all over.

The journey. 

That is what I'm focusing on. When you start to focus on the now instead of the past, the here instead of what could be. Who do I want to be today? What can I do to make that happen? Is it kind? Will it make my future, my tiny people, will it make their futures better? 

It is time. It is time to explain some things that have been held inside me, so tightly wound, I think I may explode. Christopher made a choice in his death. Call it what you want. The army isn't calling it what society does. 
The choice he made that day, the decision, the hurt, altered everything. Changed everything. One choice after a lifetime of pain. I was mad, some days, I'm still angry. I have read and deciphered every message, email, every word that would lead me to some answer as to why? Why would he, how could he? Why us? Depression, trauma, a  pain so deep that he only saw one way out. He only had one answer. His choice was that life for us would be easier this way. 
Without him. 

He was wrong. I swallow this truth every day. 
My life is now a testament to his. A testament to our children, because one day, they aren't going to understand. 
I hope that I can guide them, show them that even through tragedy, even though people make bad choices, it doesn't sum up our existence. That their father was more than his last decision. He fell down the rabbit hole and it was too much. My wish is that by my words and my actions, I can teach them a level of empathy that I'm only beginning to understand myself. 
This is what life is, a string of lessons, ultimately leading us to our own truth. My husband's life on this planet may be over but his impact on those who loved him, on those who encountered him, he can live forever. 

Love is all that matters. 

I'll continue on.