It is as if I am a ship that is becalmed in the ocean.
Stillness all around me, even as I am aware of movement and chatter around me.
But my world seems still. Even as it moves around me.
Doldrums is the term used to describe the ocean when the winds have disappeared and ships lay still. I’ve read of sailor’s accounts of the eeriness of such an event.
The strange thing about both of these terms, as I use them to describe me and my widow life, are that they aren’t actually true, I suppose.
I’ve been in motion continually in these 4 years since Chuck died. And the world around me has certainly continued moving.
It just doesn’t feel that way to me.
So much has happened in the world, in big and small ways, since Chuck died, regarding world events and, most certainly, personally. Kids married, grandkids born, more people dying…life, right?
Maybe I’ve adapted to this new world…I know it seems that way to anyone who interacts with me. And I don’t necessarily disagree that I have. We must, because life doesn’t stop for us and we have to make a living and be with those around us.
But the insides…my insides…they haven’t changed.
The trauma is no longer front and center; it seems to have taken a quiet seat in the back. My heart that misses Chuck so much, quietly aches as I go about my day. His absence is ever present. I’m sad inside, even as I’m engaging in life.
Overall, life is still kind of meaningless to me. Oh, not my Love for my kids and grands and friends. Of course not. But those relationships have little to do with missing my husband. Those relationships don’t replace him or fill the spot where he stood. I know you understand that.
I keep busy and seek out hard physical labor that exhausts me so that I don’t have to think and I’m able to sleep at night a bit more.
All strides towards healing, many would say.
The thing is, whatever is outside, isn’t inside. I’m tired in so many ways, mostly from being without him, from being alone, doing life alone.
I’m adrift on an ocean with no motion to move the waves. I don’t feel anchored to anything, you know?
So, I’m just letting myself be where I am. I’m okay with being adrift, because I have no idea where I want to go, in any case. I’m okay that the ocean is still and quiet around me.
In this world of widowhood, where nothing is okay, I’m kind of okay within that.
Just let me drift…