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On Friday, we had Eddie’s internment. It was months worth of anticipation and anxiety. I questioned why I waited so long. The boys and I needed the complete closure and had for quite some time. Luckily, with family, friends and a little Xanax…the build up was much worse than the event itself.

On Thursday night, the sky was gorgeous. It looked very much like it did the night of our anniversary a month after he died. I took it as a sign. A sign that it was okay… he was still there and always would be.

The weather was gorgeous on Friday, perfect even… if there is such a thing for days like that. Everything about Friday just flowed. Surprisingly, my type A personality allowed me to let it put itself together, to rely on others to help and to let go of the control. I knew it would all work out and it did.

The ceremony was exactly what Eddie would have wanted… short, no frills and to the point. It was incredibly meaningful and with so many people who he loved. It was perfect.

As I sat there, in my assigned chair…odd colored for the widow…I thought about how much stronger I had become. I was sitting there, living the unimaginable and still going. I had become a new version of myself, capable of anything… but most importantly of living my life, moving forward and being happy.

My life was never going to be the same, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t be great… just different… and every time I need that reminder that everything will be okay, he’ll make sure I get it.