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That look.

Posted on: December 13, 2011 | Posted by: Amanda Wright

http://widowsvoice.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/12_13_11.jpgYou know the one.

The one that your spouse would give you and you’d feel that strong connection like a bolt to your heart.

I miss getting that look.

That very first shy grin when we met … and instantly, we both felt that zing of one soul recognising another.

The glowing face that was a result of just looking at me. Greg would just beam at me in greeting. Every Single Morning and Evening.

The glance and smile to share that private joke perfectly, without a word being spoken.

The look that said “I know what you are thinking”. We always knew what the other person was thinking. Even down to which obscure Python quote was perfect for the moment.

The look of the Only Other Person who is as proud of the kids as you are. The Only Other person who can rejoice at the first successful potty mission, and the only other person who could possibly be as proud of their achievements on their report cards (cough – working at … and topping… an entire year above level at math and reading age levels double their actual ages – cough).

The looking for each other. Seeking where the other was at a party (Australian parties are often affairs where the men collectively inhabit the bbq area, beer in hand while the women are chatting in the kitchen, or dancing on the patio, wine in hand.) We’d always glance over at each other and telepathically sense whether the other was having fun or whether it was time to leave.

The eyebrow wiggle that said … well… you can guess the rest of that sentence….

The point is I miss that look that made me feel loved and safe and accepted and known.

The look that let me know I was home.

* Of course I don’t actually have a decent picture of ‘that look’ … we didn’t take so many photos in the days before digital cameras. But this pic was snapped at a wedding shortly after we were smooching and so there is still some remaining traces of ‘that look’ on our faces…..

 

Categories: Widowed, Widowed Memories

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