I’ve spent the requisite year in mourning, trying desperately to understand why my beloved husband was taken from me at such an early age, and regretting that we never had enough time to share the love we had. It was always so much bigger than the both of us, consuming and enriching us. I’ve spent a year away from social media, away from socializing with the exception of seeing my friend Owen which brought we some sanity, the Thomson family and the cousins also to keep me stable. I’ve hidden away, pulling the shattered pieces of my life back in order and taking care of his requests.
He wanted us to be debt free, and I’ve managed to do this as best I can. I paid off the mortgage, which was in his name, and I couldn’t carry over in my name. So I opted to just pay it off with his money. The car was paid off last year but we planned for that. All the credit cards are cleared and closed, once again in his name, not mine. For someone who has no financial skills at all or any skills in managing life, I think I probably did a good job. I think he’d be proud of me for stepping up and getting it done and not relying on blood sucking vampires we gleefully call barristers or lawyers.
Dating has been right out the door. I haven’t thought of it although I did flirt with it at one point. I met a guy over one of these apps and he was supposedly in Ghana. I thought “scammer” and I was right. I don’t think I’m in the mood for dating right now still. I’m certainly not in a rush.
I guess it’s all be the usual day to day business. Go to work. Go to gym. Take care of cats. Take care of dad. Rinse and repeat.
So today is the anniversary of the worst day of my life. Once more I woke at 3 am, crying because I realized he’s not here anymore. I almost didn’t realize where I was. A hotel room in Florida. Alone once more. The first trip on my own across the pond. I cried on the way here, cried in the airports, cried in the room. I miss him, even after a year. I miss him and always will feel like this part of me is missing. Yes, I know, he’s in my heart. Yes, I know, he’s always with me. But he’s not here! And I feel cheated by life, or god, or whatever the hell it was that took my beloved man from me.
I’m not bitter. I just don’t understand still. I seem to go from one point to another in this fog of confusion. Nothing makes sense anymore. I try to have hope. I try to look forward and not back. I know he’d want me to get on with life.
I am trying, darling. Really I am.
Categories: General
wildcatleeds
I keep ya guessing
I was tearing up reading your words! I’m sorry you are having to go through this.My husband drives a truck for a living so I’m often worrying. He tells me God often allows something to happen to us in order to save us from something much worse. I think this thought helps me to grab onto some logic behind heartbreaking events in life. Perhaps it can be of some comfort to you as well. One attractive attribute of death and Heaven is never having to worry about what the future may hold and being at peace and understanding … God bless you and I pray you remain physically and spiritually strong♥️
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Thank you for your kind words. I hope that your husband always keeps safe on the road. My brother is a long haul trucker who drives overnight and often his wife worries about him. I do too when I find out that he’s not had enough sleep and isn’t eating well. We’ve only just reconciled. I do have to admit that I’ve long had a crisis of faith, and often can’t fathom why this god does the things that he does, if he does them at all. But I know that my beloved Michael and I will be together again. I’ll just need to have a word with the big guy about all this before my beloved and I can enjoy our eternity. 🙂
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