Widowed Without A Manual

Some of us grieve longer then others. I will not be rushed out of my love, that still inhabits my heart.

Anchor

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Is it the heat?
Is it the fork in the road, again?
Could it just be that I feel exhausted with uncertainty?
I am a single boat in a big ocean and I have lost my anchor.
What do I do?
Do I paddle to shore with my hands?
Dipping them in the salty waters over and over
Watching them get covered with sun and salt cracks till they bleed
Do I make a sail with my body
stand with my arms extended in hopes of a wind coming by?
Or do I lay in the boat and die?
There is a memory of the anchor
Irrepressible, resilient  to a fault
But the rope gets worn from years of battle and holding on
The ocean, while beautiful can still take life
As the rope frays the salt gets into every fibre
Dissolving every connection till…till… it can hold on no more
and it remains on the ocean floor while the boat and trailing rope move  away with every wave till there is no longer any control
Do I jump off the boat and swim to shore
Even though I can’t see land
Leaving life to fate

I truly can’t say.

 

 

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I Don’t Want to Let Him Go

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I waited for the sun to burn a hole through me
but it didn’t
I wanted the heat to evaporate the heaviness that is in me
but it didn’t
I wanted the clouds to fly so low that they picked me up and took me with them
but they didn’t
I want my lead heart to be removed
so I may feel no more
feelings and thoughts
stay locked behind the door
that possesses no key
thoughts and feelings
like cement they compress become dense then petrify
the body grows heavy
feet expand accommodating the weight
arms pull down from the scapula
the neck can no longer support the weight of your head
you disintegrate from the inside out

sadly
all of this has to happen privately
no one wants to see or hear of this

if you speak
you must present it  like something that
HAS BEEN
HAVE FELT
everything must be
in the past tense
with victorious results

So….. privately you …….
live in this world…..
with a glimmer of hope…
hope
that if you can
draw a line
manipulate wax
apply colour to canvas
that you will some how
have lightened your load

then again that is the hope

Question:
What do others do?
How do others cope with the processing and not leaving behind unfelt emotions?
In casual conversation with my sister in law she said, ‘You don’t want to let him go’.
Oddly I felt great relief hearing her say that for she was so very right. I don’t want to let him go. We were not divorced, he was taken from me by a terrible illness. He did not want to leave me. So I suppose I have to find a way to live without his physical self and enjoy the endless memories, and continue to blog with the hope that I might help even one person.

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