Here I am at what would have been a milestone for B. He would have been 80 years today. I have just returned to the city from a two week break, house sitting in the country.
I wake up this morning without him by my side,,,,, again.
I will be this way to the end
Without my best friend
I feel that if I mark this day that people around me will continue to turn their heads. There she is exposing her feelings again to the world and expecting all of us to join in. Could I be approaching my anger phase? I am angry that I am having to move. I do though feel that staying here is not good for me, emotionally. Here I am living in my mothers world and where I have spent the years looking after B. It’s probably good that I move for I have ver dark thoughts here within these walls. This place holds no future. It represents love and care and connection but within its walls it also carries so much sorrow.
Within these walls
Dark clouds stains the ceilings
Walls hold the rivers of tears
It took me almost the entire two weeks to feel better. One night here and I feel myself being pulled back with such force to the black shadow. This house needs my tears to survive. I can almost hear it calling me back. It has missed the long nights of my saddness. The days that remained night by keeping the blinds closed. Almost living here in secret so no one would bother me. The phone that rings while I sit across the room, counting till it stops.
The problem is not moving to another location, it’s what to bring with me.
Everyday that comes and goes I remember more and more about our life together. When your soul mate becomes ill, you are still their spouse but you put on the vest of caregiver. You become so intensely focused on their dignity, their care, their need for tenderness and understanding. You put on hold to the very back of your mind and heart, all those feelings of sadness and want of things to be as they were. But,, When they feel its time for their departure and fly into unbelievable release of earthly weights, we are left here alone. Only then do you slowly emerge as the wife again. It’s the passing of all those days that brings back everything we could not feel in front of them. It’s those feelings that awaken and bring us to the dark days.
I know that I write for my own benefit for who would want to read such sadness.
Today he would have turned 80.
Happy Birthday My Love
There is such a backdraft of emptiness without you.
Widowed Without A Manual 