Right now my life sucks, the ever
ready bunny of make it better can do spirit is down. I am not to quote one of
my favorite song writers, “a rock, an island.” I do have need of friendship
even if it causes pain. The strangest thing for me is how my feelings today
remind me of how I felt as a teen, which was the last time I was without, my
Kirt. I suppose widows having lost their second husband would have a whole
different set of issues to deal with, but this back to the teens’ turmoil and angst
is so repugnant.
I’ve spent my whole adult life
finding peace, tranquility, happiness, my self respect, and most of all, love.
This all was mine for a time, but now, it’s over. Well, I do have my self
respect, ta-da, thank you my honey for that gift.
Love, I still feel your love. As
the pain that short circuits the brain lessens, I feel your spirit around me.
Together we were a shining beacon of love. How many total strangers have
commented on what a loving or lovely couple we were. Remember the shop girl in
Amsterdam, who watched you help me with my back pack with tears in her eyes,
holding her heart and waving the other hand in front of her face. Last year in
New Orleans we had breakfast on the way to the VA, at Betsy’s, our favorite on
Canal Street. You finished your grits, while I checked my email. A man about
our age from the next table leaned towards you and said, “Sir, how long have
you been married to that woman?” You know me; I thought he was going to say
something bad about me. You replied, “Going on forty-five years and loved every
minute.” He smiled, “I can see how much you love each other; God’s blessed
you.”
Peace and tranquility wish to
return to my life, along with your gentle spirit. The dark forces grab me;
anger and bitterness try to steal my serenity. Turmoil daily assaults me,
looking at the ocean only makes me cry. I want to calm down and be as I was,
but that’s never going to happen. Why does that not sink in, the life I knew is
over.
People tell me write a new chapter,
you’re strong, you can go on. My mother said, “You’re strong, you’ll be fine,”
as if that negates all my suffering. My friends lead busy lives. We don’t pal
around day to day, that’s what I did with you. I’ve been blessed that friends
held me close after you died. My neediness tries people who expect me to be
strong. “We’ve all had losses this year, yours isn’t any worse,” I’ve recently
been told. I can’t expect someone who’s never had a soul mate understand, so no
point in saying a word, just stuff it down. So many things are just not worth
responding to; I am learning. This finding me shit is not working; without the
strength, the motivation to get out of the house, which can become a trap for
me, I fear depression.
Alone, no, not completely alone,
with family and friends, touchstones in my life to whom I am grateful. And the
two who truly love me, my honey, my husband in whose love I believe and God,
who just wants to be loved, just like the rest of us. The Beatles were right;
love is the answer.
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