At eight years post-loss, I am somewhere different than ever before,
and yet,
not quite where I would like to be.
I am well past the soul-crushing, hopeless feelings of everyday existence.
And still,
there are days where my heart feels like it has stopped beating,
or like there is a large boulder sitting on it,
temporarily.
At eight years,
life moves forward
and life looks back.
Joy is abundant,
and sadness
sits dormant.
Still.
I wonder where my dead husband is,
at eight years,
other than dead.
How does his soul feel currently?
Does he continue to grow and change,
in a cell-energy-science kind of way?
Or is he just floating across the universe,
unaware and free and unburdened?
I dont know.
I may never know.
I miss learning things with him.
I hope he still learns things
on his own,
in the soul world.
Life teaches me new things
every day.
I still havent quite learned
though,
how to live
without him.
How to stop
the bleeding
that comes from
the intense
missing.
Even If I learned how,
Im not sure
that I would stop it.
Im not sure I would ever
want to stop missing him.
Time moves forward,
life marches on,
and the heart
remembers when.
I am in between phases
of grief,
of life,
and maybe I am meant to stay here,
because losing someone
to death,
leaves life sad and joyous,
painful and ecstatic,
funny and tragic,
and everything
In Between.