Monday, July 31, 2017

An unpleasant task

Shopping has become a distasteful chore.  I haven't done much of it for the last several weeks so I  ventured out today to get some stuff I actually needed. I was in a drug store and walked down the greeting card aisle on my way to another part of the store. I slowed down and physically caught my breath as  I silently thought,"I won't be buying him cards any more."  I was breathing hard and choking as I left the aisle.  I made a quick purchase and left the store.  I went to another store and as I went through some aisles the same thought popped into my head: Look at all the things I won't be purchasing anymore because they were his favorites.

It's disconcerting to realize the small ways my life is changing. I've had a lot of very good advice from friends, some who have walked down this road I'm now on and others who want to do anything they can to help soothe my heart. Nothing has quite worked yet and so I realize this is going to be a very long and winding road and a difficult process.

Gawd, I hate going through this but strangely (or maybe not so strange) I feel as if I have an arm around my shoulders gently guiding me down this road.

©2017reisasterlingmiller

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Reflecting on the Ribbon

The Shloshim period ended a few days ago.  In Judaism, Shloshim is the period of thirty days of deep mourning following a death.  As I unpinned the black ribbon from my chest for the last time, I looked at it, ran my fingers over it, held it against my heart and reflected on its visual meaning to me. It gave me a sense of honoring my beloved's memory, a tangible marker of who my family has lost. For a fleeting few moments, I wanted to continue to wear the ribbon indefinitely.  Instead, I held it to my lips, memories flooding into my mind's eye and unbearable sadness racing through my heart. Then I quietly put it into a drawer for safekeeping.

Mentally, I will wear that ribbon forever.

©2017reisasterlingmiller


Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Sometimes the silence is deafening

I sit at the table, eating breakfast and reading the newspaper. And when I'm done, I just sit, stare out the window and know that the silence is deafening. Sometimes I talk to him, my beloved,  and sometimes I can hear his replies in my mind. And yes, the tears begin to flow and I let them dribble down my face, onto my shirt and lap.

I hear the silence throughout the day. It is a constant reminder of the immense anguish I still feel. I don't imagine this will go away any time soon.

I fill the days with tasks that have to get done but very often I'll stop what I'm doing, look at the photo and feel his presence. The photo was recently sent to me by a cousin (bless her!) It's a closeup of the two of us and when I look at it, he's looking directly into my eyes. As I stare back, it gives me a small sense of comfort and a bit of peace. And, yes, I talk to him as I gaze directly back at him.

The anguish is raw, the silence is deafening, the heartache and pain are real.That's just the way it is right now. I don't wonder how long it will take for all that to lessen. I don't care. I think those feelings will always be part of my life and  I'm okay with that. I'm learning to live with what is even though it's a very difficult lesson to learn.

Time will heal? Perhaps...... Perhaps........

©2017reisasterlingmiller

Sunday, July 9, 2017

The Question

"How are you doing?"  It seems to be the standard question, the first question I'm asked. People are kind and concerned about me right now, those who reach out.  I answer with the usual, almost expected response. "I'm okay."  Okay means I'm managing adequately, I guess.  But that's only partly true.  There are times when I'm barely okay.  To all outward appearances I function normally. I pick up my newspaper in the driveway each morning to read with breakfast.  I go through the day doing things that now HAVE to get done quickly. I pick up a few grocery items.

The life I was living before has changed and so I've changed.  I go through days perfunctorily.  Reality slides in and out. There are times when I just can't wrap my head around what's happened. But those times when I fully understand the blow dealt to my sons and me, I am NOT okay.  I am assuming those times will begin to recede.  In the meantime, the struggle with reality continues, to be replaced by an acceptance not easily welcomed.

The one thing I'm very sure of is the strength I get from the incredible love of my sons, my family and close friends. That is what keeps me from falling into a place I don't want to go and where my Love knows I needn't be.

So, am I okay?  Like a weather forecast,  it will be a bit cloudy for the next several weeks with a good chance of sunshine breaking through after that.

©2017reisasterlingmiller