Widow's Voice

In Love With…A Dead Man

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He strides through my mind on a daily basis.

My heart yearns for the Love I felt so strongly with him.

My soul remembers back to the years we shared.

My body yearns for his hands upon it.

It’s been 5 years and 3 months since he left my world.

I’m in love with a dead man.

I can almost hear the shrieks of dismay and shock and see people draw back in…

I’m not sure why they would draw back upon hearing this from me.

Maybe it’s too morbid? I’ve been accused of morbidity.

Maybe they feel that it says something slightly crazy about me, that I’m in love with a dead man…

And I speak so openly about it.

Maybe they think that being in love with a dead man will keep me from being in love with a man who is alive.

Not that any opportunities have presented themselves.

Here’s the god’s honest truth…

I think about my dead husband day and night.

My pulse beats to the memories of our years together.

As I go about living this life…interacting with those I meet along the way on a daily basis…

I’m thinking about him.

I think of how he would handle tough situations.

The toughest situation being the one where I have to live without him.

He is my first thought upon waking,

My last thought before sleep claims me,

And every thought in between.

I do all the things I do and I live this life and few, maybe, suspect that I’m living a life in my heart where he is still with me.

He is my every moment and, honestly, I have no care for other’s opinions of that.

And, if ever a man should materialize in front of me…a man who is perfect for me…I’ll tell him right away that I’m in love with a dead man, but the human heart expands to love,

And I can be in love with a breathing and walking around man, even while I’m in love with a dead man.

And always will be.

So, there you go.

Maybe this small bit of writing is what I’d use on a dating profile.

It’s a pretty good filter, I expect.

*Only serious and very strong, enlightened, and courageous applicants need apply*

About Alison Miller

My beloved husband Chuck died while we were full timing on the road. We’d rented a condo for our stay in southern CA, and I had to leave 3 weeks after his death. All I knew at that time was that I had to find a way to continue traveling on my own, because settling down without him made me break into a cold sweat. I knew that the only place I’d find any connection to Chuck again was out on the roads we’d been traveling for our last 4 years together. I knew nobody out on the road, I knew grief was a great isolator, and I knew I had to change the way I traveled without him, to make it more emotionally bearable for me. So I bought a new car, had a shade of pink customized for it, bought a tiny trailer and painted the trim in pink, learned how to tow and camp, and set out alone. My anxiety was through the roof, and all I knew to trust was the Love that Chuck left behind for me. I found Soaring Spirits early on, thank god, and the connections I made through SS helped ground me to some extent. I needed to know that other widow/ers were out there in my world, because I felt so disoriented and dislocated. Through Soaring Spirits, as the miles added up, my rig taking me north, south, east and west, I found community. I found sanity…or at least I learned that if I was bat shit crazy, I was in good company, and realizing that ultimately saved my sanity. PinkMagic, my rig, is covered with hundreds of names of loved ones sent to me by my widowed community, and I know it isn’t visible to the naked eye, but I’ll let you in on a secret…she actually illuminates Love as I drive down the many roads in our country, and I can see it through my side view mirror. Love does, indeed, live on~

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