A fellow widow and blogger wrote this awhile ago and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. This is where I am right now. I had a rough couple of weeks and when I think about how fast the next month is going to go before I hit 'the one year anniversary,' it makes me sick. But mostly, this is getting more livable. I'm getting used to being in this empty house at night. Maybe 'used to' isn't even the right term - more like, I expect it.
Today, an ambulance drove past us on the road so Faith started asking questions about you. I've told her the story: the guys called the ambulance when they found you but you were already dead. She wanted to know why. But as I was in the middle of explaining, the ease of conversation about it started to make me feel ill. I'd almost forgotten for a second that it was a real event. Yes, you're dead. Yes, that nightmare really took place. And I sat there talking about it like it was a story in some book we read.
Today that moment, that evening, that awful awful night seems like eons ago. It's supposed to be a good thing that this is less shocking and that I'm supposedly getting closer to healing, but it bothers me. It bothers me that I'm getting used to this. I'm getting used to just living day-by-day, not really sure where life is going to take me, still feeling like I have no purpose or future other than just surviving so my kids can have a life.
You feel so far away today, baby. I'm glad the kids can still recall events so crystal clear about you, it pulls you back closer and reminds me that you were here just a short time ago. Gosh, I miss you.
Maybe what I think is surviving is really me just surrendering to what life has become for me. I'll do it for as long as I need to so that I can get to you some day.
I miss you more than words.
I love you always and forever.
4 comments:
yes you're right. it is surrender. i feel it too. after all, what choice do we have? this is really happening.
julia's comment was right on for me, too. I made a comment on someone elses' blog that this thing people call "healing" just seems like a callous forming over the reality. That THIS could ever be distant, like it happened to someone else, that it becomes just a story we tell - I would take the first year a million times again rather than live a life where the reality is so dimmed.
I came across this blog today, similar story as yours but it's of a husband documenting his hurt and pain and strength of going on without his wife.(http://sadandchara.blogspot.com/). The husband lost his wife and baby that they were expecting in a tragic car accident. He posted the lyric to this song and the first thing that popped into my head was you... I know it makes reference to "She" but I thought maybe we could change it to "he" for you. Keeping you in my prayers! hugs Cathy
She is Gone - by David Harkins
You can shed tears that HE is gone,Or you can smile because HE has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that HE will come back,
Or you can open your eyes and see all that HE has left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see HIM,
Or you can be full of the love that you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember HIM and only that HE is gone,
Or you can cherish HIS memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back,
Or you can do what HE would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
GOD BLESS YOU AND THE STRENGTH YOU HAVE TO CARRY ON. Many are praying for you....
It's ok to move on and survive. You are surviving AND surrendering to your new life. You have no other choice, that's how life is. And you are doing it brilliantly, beautifully, gracefully, admirably. I think it's ok to start to feel some kind of getting used to it. That's the only way you'll ever begin to heal. If healing is even the right word. Wish I could take your pain away!
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