I often say aloud, “Where are you?” I hold my hands out in front of me and hope to sense him in the air. I miss his physical presence and sometimes the lack of it makes me want to crawl out of my own skin.
This widow life, it is beyond anything I ever expected to be living at the tender age of 42 (almost 43) when it all began. Now, 2.5 years later, I am still dumbstruck by all of it. It is a mess. I miss him and I expect that I always will. Despite all the missing, I am living without him. I am moving forward because I didn’t die and I don’t have a choice in this alternate life. I have to continue because of my children and because my life requires it of me. But, I miss him. Time has not dulled this aching and I do not know if it ever will.
Some people tell me he is “here”. He is “with” me. Well, his consciousness might be. And, his Soul loves me for Eternity. I KNOW this. And, I appreciate this. I know full well that love never ends, but what do I do with this? What the hell does a woman do with a love she can’t see, or hear or physically feel or touch?
When he was alive, our love was big and bold. It filled my heart. It was felt in the room. Now, since he died, our love is formless. And, it is quiet.
Our love remains powerful, maybe more powerful than it was when he was alive. But, it is silent now. I have zero experience in this type of love. I don’t know how to love quietly. I don’t think I am good at it. I want back what I used to share with him. But, there is not point in wishing for what I can not have. Still, I do it anyways like a child who is having a tantrum. I want him back. Where the hell are you Mike?
The fact is, I exist in this dimension and Mike does not. We have been separated and this separation is for the rest of my life. I live here and my dead fiance is gone from here. I can not see him anymore. And, I can’t hear him anymore. If he is “here”, then he’s being awfully quiet, which is completely out of character for him. If he wants me to “hear” him, Mike needs to speak way up, or I need to quiet my mind so that I can hear what he’s saying. Either way, I like how it used to be when he was alive and he had a voice that I could easily recognize.
Since he died, I have continued to have a relationship with Mike – despite his physical absence. I still talk to him and I acknowledge him in small, but significant ways. But, here’s the thing – it is not enough. It.is.just.not.enough. It doen’t fill my heart the way he did. His invisible presence doesn’t match his physical presence. This life without him just isn’t the same. Being in love with a dead man has it’s obvious limitations and it just is not enough for someone who is still alive. I feel awful saying this, but for me it is the truth.
Yes, I get plenty of “signs” that he is around me. I have been fortunate to have many validations of his invisible “presence”, but I want more. I am not satisfied with Mike being a hummingbird, a cardinal, or a dragon fly. It was nice that he appeared as a deer at the grave on Christmas morning. But, it was bittersweet. I don’t want him to be an animal or song on the radio, or a penny I find. I want him. I want the man he was. I feel ungrateful for wanting more from him. I know that the ways he presents himself to me are the best he can offer me now. When he was alive he would have given me the world, and he did. Now, he continues to desire this, but there is nothing he can any longer give me in the physical world. So, now what. What do I do? Like the good widow I am, I framed the penny he sent me. And, I close my eyes and thank him everytime I feel his “presence”. I KNOW when he “speaks” to me through a song on the radio, and I thank him as tears roll down from my eyes. I do all of this stuff. But, still I crave more from him… Maybe I am a bad widow for this. I don’t know, and I don’t care. I was a far better “wife” than widow. And, with all due respect, I don’t ever want to excell at widowhood. This isn’t what I was made for.
Like everyone here, I am forced to acknowledge the foreverness of his death in a way I don’t think I have accepted yet. Sure, logically, I understand that he will be dead for the rest of my life; but, somehow, his deadness still feels surreal to me. I can not believe that a man so full of life is now lifeless. I resent having to deal with his death – for the remainder of my life – so I am trying to just figure out a simple way to acknowledge his absence without giving it any unnecessary attention.
I am trying to reengage in life. I am trying to live without him. I am trying. But, sometimes I just wonder where he is and if he still has his arms wrapped around my life.