It's the 3 Dots at the end...

Of course you’ll always miss your husband…..

It’s the but that you can read into those little dots at the end of that sentence that contain the crux of what the person is really saying.

….don’t hang onto the grief….

….it’s your decision to be happy or not….

…..if you’re still struggling with grief, maybe you should go on medications….

Add to this whatever you wish.

And what I want to say to those who put those periods at the end of that sentence is…..

Don’t you know that, for me, this is what missing my husband looks like?

Do you know what skin hunger feels like…

Do you know what it feels like to have your world ripped out from underneath you, from around you, from over you…

Do you know what I mean when I say that there is not one damn thing in my life, or life around me, that is the same as it was and that, all by itself, is overwhelming…

How can I explain in any way that is understandable what it is like physically to feel my energy yawning out of my body, into the air, and know that it’s simply lingering there because there is nobody to receive it…

Do you know how confusing it is to be told by so many, professionals and otherwise, that grief is as individual as a fingerprint and there is no timeline….and then feel the judgement that, well, of course  there isn’t one but it’s been this long this long this long and you should be finding joy and happiness again….

Do you get that I shared a lifetime of love and marriage with my husband, with shared practical responsibilities, as is normal, and there is a steep learning curve as I strive, as quickly as possible, to know what one half of our marriage knew and now that he’s gone, all of what he knew is gone and I’m doing this at a time when grief fogs my memory…

How do I find the words that express the depth of the sorrow that is in my heart that my beloved husband is dead and my world is empty without him…not because I’m depressed or hanging on in an unhealthy way or anything like that but just, simply, sorrowful and heart heavy, and it’s normal that I feel this way…

What words will help you understand that when my beloved husband died, it wasn’t a simple unweaving and unraveling of a life lived with me but a ripping apart and shredding and now I must weave his death into whatever new life I must I am creating and that  it can, that it might, that I expect it to, take a lifetime and that’s okay too…

And all that needs be said in response is….tell me about your beloved husband….tell me a story of him and your love….

And that will always, truly and honestly, be enough and it will feed my hurting soul….


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  • commented 2016-10-16 22:16:12 -0700
    I cried when I read this.. I completely understand.. I smile but the light is gone from my eyes..
    He was my soul, my love , my best friend.. I can’t get over that ..
    I don’t know what God has planned for my life..
    I used to jokingly tell my husband he was the salt in my live.. EVERYTHING was better with him around.
    We laughed every single day and never failed to tell each other how much we loved one another.
    I met him when I was 19 ..my first and only “boyfriend”.
    He was 62 when he died.. my heart died that day also.
  • commented 2016-10-12 20:42:15 -0700
    You tell it like it is….ohhh, the missingness
  • commented 2016-09-21 16:25:51 -0700
    “Do you know what I mean when I say that there is not one damn thing in my life, or life around me, that is the same as it was and that, all by itself, is overwhelming…” That pretty much says it all. I face the world daily, wearing my mask of normalcy, acting as if everything is now okay in my life. And then I come across a blog like this, which identifies, all that I feel and all that I hold inside, and then the tears come. Thank you for speaking our truth.
  • commented 2016-09-21 14:08:30 -0700
    so beautiful, and so very true. xoxo