Along about the second year, definitely going into the third and then the fourth…I just wanted to scream at people. Not in anger, but in shredded grief and pain… Why can’t you just let me be sad? Why does it feel like I must defend myself against you? Why does it then feel like I have to defend my grief even to myself? Why does it feel like I…
alison miller
Heart and Soul
When your heart and soul are just so tired, 5 years in. Not for any particular reason, really. Everything is pretty much the same as it’s always been. Even when life is routine, my spirit is tired. And, yes, life on the road can be routine. Tired from doing and being and all the stuff that comes from living a life that is so achingly and…
This Pink Anniversary
Today, Tuesday, is an anniversary of sorts for me. It isn’t an anniversary connected to Chuck, since it happened after he died. And yet, it is entirely connected to him. Because today is the day, 5 years ago, that I picked up my new Ford Escape from the garage, and the man, I’d taken it to after buying it from the dealer. I took it directly…
These Shades of Pink
Chuck wants me to tell you he wouldn’t leave you without a road map. He wants you to be aware of the markers he’s left for you, both physical and metaphysical. Whatever you’re doing, keep on doing it. You’re on the right track. Did you know that you’re surrounded by so many angels that I can’t even count them? You’re protected. These…
The Never-Ending Dance~
It is commonly understood, or acknowledged, that there is time and possibility for goodbyes when a person is terminally ill, as opposed to when there is a sudden death. I used to believe that.Yes, the words might be whispered from one to the other on a deathbed, or they might be breathed into the ears of the one you love as your hands clasp, but…
Mass Confusion
Quite frequently these days, as I begin my 3rd year without him, I find this particular quote sent to me, or posted on my timeline. Grief is a stage through which we pass and not a place to linger. Okay, I get that. I even agree with it. But it doesn’t help me a damn bit to read it. We are told that grief is an individual process with no…
Catching a Glimpse, I Think~
I’m so sad that Chuck died and I don’t know anymore if it’s sadness that is emptiness inside me or emptiness with sadness and there is a burning wish in my soul to force myself into some semblance of feeling again, of connectedness again. In the last few weeks I’ve caught a glimpse, I think, into the world of soldiers and Marines who return from…
Words
Twisting. Writhing. Hurting. Shrieking. Vomit urge. Nerves on skin. Racing pulse. Butterfly stomach. Dislocated. Disoriented. Discombobulated. Longing. Yearning. Starving. Reaching. Empty arms. Full heart. Meat-slicer in chest. Passion with no place to go. Love with no release. Wandering. Roaming. Searching.
Here and Not. Me and Not.
I know I’m not actually a split personality. I haven’t disassociated from my body. There is nothing really wrong with me because what I’m going through is normal. I know this. This grief, though. Whoa. My brain sometimes slips into my consciousness the suspicion that maybe I am a split personality. Or whatever word it is that would…
This Point
I reached a point in these last few days. I need to stop looking (albeit unconsciously) for this sharp cutting edge of grief in my body to stop. I need to stop looking for that elusive something that will take it away. Cut it away as carefully as a surgeon’s knife, leaving my body and heart as intact as it was for my 24 years with him.
This day. Today.
Today is 2 years since my beloved husband Chuck died. I’ve always used the word died since he…died. Don’t care at all for the other, gentler words. Not at all. I need the harsh words to remind me that he is indeed dead because there is a part of me, somewhere inside of me, a part I can’t identify, that just doesn’t believe that he’s dead or…
Believing….or Not
I’m not in denial. I know Chuck is dead. I feel it…have felt it…in every part of my body since 2 years ago, April 21. He’s gone. Gone, gone, gone.And yet, I swear that there is still a part of me that doesn’t believe it. That can’tbelieve it. How can he be gone when he and I were so connected? How can it be that I’m walking on…