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A month ago today we were holding hands and staring into each others eyes in the most intimate gaze I have ever experienced. Two months ago we were still fighting. Three months ago there was hope of a sort. Four months ago we had just celebrated Christmas and I was worried his diagnosed gastritis and strained back were something much worse. I have never more desperately wanted to be wrong.
In the month since he died I have changed the sheets. I have eaten meals I don't recall, flat in my mouth. I have cried gallons of tears. I have been startled by my own laughter and the occasional pleasure, then felt a stab of relief and guilt at the same time. I have wondered at my own purpose without him. I have kept breathing, much to my surprise.
Today I will continue to breathe, the body following its own determined rhythms.
Today I will cry again and again.
Today I will walk through the world with his name on my lips, no different from any other day.
I have been told by so many people that I will survive this. That someday it will not be as sharp and bright. That eventually I will stop writing only about this. That he is watching me and loving me on the other side of the veil.
I know.
But that does not yet ease my heartache. It does not stop me from yearning for his touch. It does not stop time.
One month.
So it is.
(c)2014 Laura S. Packer
thank you for sharing your truth and your journey, tears, heartache and all. It's real. There is no timeframe on grief. HUGS by the hundreds to you.
ReplyDeleteYes, so true. Time will bring you joy and different things but it does not ease the heartache at a sudden memory, a flash back and if only you could share what is happening with your love. Hugs to you. I am now 17 months without my love.
ReplyDeleteHang in there one day at a time
It's been just over 10 weeks for me since my husband died. We knew he had a very weak and failing heart, but never expected that he would die so suddenly and without warning. A blessing for him because he didn't suffer, yet like all spouses left behind, I now suffer the grieving of a life without him in it . It truly is 1 day at a time, 1 step at a time, and sometimes 1 hour at a time.
ReplyDeleteThat question of purpose is one I fought with when my son died. What use was there in trying, in keeping on doing, when in the end it is all for nothing? And yet, we do go on, his name and memories so very present in our minds and on our tongues. Every little thing is a reminder, any little thing can still bring unexpected tears, even 4 years later. But there is joy, and laughter, and most days I remember that my own journey, while longer in years, is still short in the span of time, and oddly that thought brings comfort.
ReplyDelete