If I divide the days you’ve been gone
2661
by the months
87
By the years
7 years
by the weeks
380
by the minutes
3883
by the miles I’ve driven
165,000
by the number of states I’ve taken PinkMagic on my Odyssey of Love
35
And the nights my hand has reached out to feel you next to me
Meeting only space and emptiness.
Endless.
Divided by the steps of my wandering feet and aching heart
as I ponder this life without you…
Incalculable
Multiplied by thousands of hugs given and received
Life saving
Adding in the massive amount of Love so strongly represented in the names covering my rig…
It doesn’t add up in the same way that was the sum of my existence with Chuck, of course.
Nothing ever will.
But it does add up, somehow, equaling out to be just enough
and that matters.
It has to matter, right?
Because widowed math is fucked up math because so much has been taken away from us.
Subtracted
Divided
Leaving us in negative zero
At a time when we feel depleted, subtracted, divided…
In that moment of impact where our world blows apart into nothingness that is only measurable in atoms and dust,
It is up to us to begin adding and multiplying
through remembering and holding memories that both hurt and help,
Which is when we learn about duality, which might possibly have something to do with squared roots and cubes.
Ultimately, maybe we end up throwing algebra and trigonometry and geometry into the equation of widowhood because simple equations don’t make the grade…so to speak.
No longer simple adding, subtracting, multiplication and division.
Perhaps this is when we look to the Universe for clarification,
Staring into the vastness of stars and moon and galaxies to help comprehend what no longer makes sense.
Maybe we find the answers we seek in the depth and breadth of that darkness
That shines and sparkles above us.
Or maybe we find no answers at all
While finding solace simply in the nothingness of the skies that have no end and no beginning
As we begin to realize that we are part of the magical dust that seems so far away
Yet so close.
We are there with them.
And they are here with us.
In the end
Maybe numbers don’t count
Except for the meaning we ourselves give them.
The sum result, however we calculate our numbers and count them for the sum of our grief,
Is really the infinity number that is…
Love for all Time
In the Universe we lived in as the sum total of
Two~