This is going to be short and sweet. I have so much going on this week that there is no time to really sit down and write something of value or deep thought, so Im going to share a short stanza / piece that I wrote a couple days ago on my Facebook page. I was going about my day, at 4.5 years into this “my husband is dead” life, when all of a sudden, for no particular reason, my heart starting hurting for him again. And then I felt slightly surprised by that, right after. Not surprised that I still ache for him to be here in this world with me, but surprised by how quickly that feeling can come on, and how intense it is when it does. So I just let the feeling happen, and it stayed with me for awhile. I felt lonely in my own skin for a few hours, the way I used to feel every single second of the first 2 years or so after his death. Now it comes on, here and there, out of nowhere, for a few hours or minutes at a time. And yet, it still floors me. So I wrote this about the feeling:
… And still, at the end of each day, no matter how long it’s been, how happy I may be, or how much life keeps spinning, it always comes back to this:
You are not here, and I miss you.
Still. Forever. Always.
The missing of you lives inside me, in the same way that stars light up and live in the sky.
It’s just there, like a baby napping or a child wanting ice-cream. It’s there in the same way that all familiar things remain, and yet, it’s depth and it’s hurt still surprise me every time.
For love does not end. It only begins, and then begins again, over and over, taking new and different forms.
I love you.
I love you today, tomorrow, and for many lifetimes into the future, where I will miss you still.