We each define this widowed walk for ourselves, of course.
The grief we carry is as individual as a thumb print, we're told.
Which makes sense, of course.
For myself, I've never used the word lost to describe this grief.
Being lost implies to me that I have a destination in mind.
An end point.
And I don't.
My words to describe this have been dislocated. Disoriented. Discombobulated. Displaced. Diswrought.
Also, I have no idea what the word healing means, so I've never used it in reference to myself.
It's too pressure filled a word for me.
I'm getting along, I suppose. My outer life would certainly reflect that I'm doing that.
I go out. I mingle. I'm around my family at various times.
Always with me, however, is that hollow feeling.
I wouldn't say that I'm grieving still.
But I do feel hollow.
Maybe that's what healing means.
I don't much worry about it; I just keep the energy moving.
I also struggle with the word hope and what it means.
The life I have now isn't better than the life I had with Chuck.
And I wonder if any of you...those who had a good, strong, solid, loving, marriage/relationship...
How is it for you?
If you hold your life now up to the life you had with your person...
Is this one measureably better, and have you found true happiness again? And what does that mean, if you have?
If your person came back, would you exchange this life for that life again?
Questions for the ages.
And the shit I think about all the time~