Oct 24, 2020
I’ve been procrastinating all day. Yes, I know that you know that I got my chores done early, did the shopping, started the laundry, walked the dogs, everything that I knew had to get done. All done in silence and as if sleepwalking. Thankful that it’s not an expectation that I be sociable as I carry out these tasks, Thankful that I’m wearing a mask, One of fabric, one of grief. I know the front yard needs to be weeded, and the front entryway needs to be painted. Instead, I sit here frozen. My head hurts. I can feel my forehead crumpled as my eyes squint and my brows come together. The pain of losing you, the physical pain is now permanently etched into my face. I see it every day. It’s aged me in a fiercely unfortunate way. Since I’m alone I find myself talking out loud to you, to God, the Source, the Universe, the Angels, to all and anyone listening, to ask to make sure that you’re ok. And that eventually I’ll be ok. And I cry. And cry and tell you how much I miss you. And I let the pain roll down my face for anyone and no one to see. Time keeps marching onwards and here I am because nothing is changing except maybe that I am getting older and sicker and you don’t have to anymore. I’ve made it to my final destination. I’ve made it to the island. It’s so breathtakingly beautiful, and I am fully aware of every sacrifice it took to get here. So I’m making a conscious effort to make the very most of it. I am mindful every day as I look at the water that it is looking back at me and yes, it brings some comfort. Maybe it time, much more time, I can sit here and think of you and not cry so hard. Maybe my chest won’t feel like it’s caving in. Maybe I won’t feel like I’ve been badly beaten. Maybe I’ll have enough energy to get up and get on with my day. I look at your pictures and I can’t breathe. I would not wish this pain on anyone. It is crushing in its weight, and yet it is only I that must carry it around every day. As the wave of grief crests and passes over me, I am thankful all over again that not every day is this bad. Some days, I am thankful that this feels like one of the ‘good’ days….