How long would it be before that wasn't a shock to the system anymore? No one else warmed the sheets. No one else would be making the coffee. No lover stood in the shower, or had walked out the front door on their way to work for the day. No one else filled the gas tank or my many waking hours. I was alone.
After so many weeks, how was it that fresh tears could still form under swollen lids? Was I doomed to this nightmare forever more? Would I ever wake up from this sick and twisted turn of my life? The answer of course was no.
Life no longer held another to be responsible to or to care about my fate. I could bypass the potatoes when buying groceries and never step into a hardware store ever again. But I was drawn to them none the less. The ten pound bags of yukon gold made my cry. I wandered the aisles of big box stores, feeling lost, but somehow drawn to the next lane to see if there was some other item that I really did need. When I did find something to purchase, I stared at my choices for what seemed an eternity, not wanting to fail and never confident enough about my own decisions. I needed to prove myself, but felt like I always set myself up to fail. The wrong size, shape or consistency doomed me every time. I returned the next week to try again though. And again.
This missing appendage was bigger than the spot on the bed and it amazed me how it grew with time. I now questioned food choices, TV shows, wall colours and more. I couldn't decide on a new bath tub, as what would happen if I picked wrong? How could I live with myself if I chose one roofer over another and the sky fell in?
Somehow the challenges kept coming though. Somehow I managed to choose. And one day I recognized that you weren't really missing anymore. You had been there all along, catching every tear that I shed. You applauded my choices and did your best to offer advice in the only way you could, through memories and slight of hand persuasions that I picked up on, but never quite realized. You sent me praise through a friend's touch or faith from your daughter's eyes. And occasionally, I found a piece of you that you left in my path and I knew that you would be with me til the end.
That spot in the bed is no longer cold and I feel your smile on my shoulders strong. It is amazing that I was lost for so long, but slowly I awake and find I am missing no more.
♥♥♥
Again, not quite fiction, but drawn from a prompt at Mostly Fiction Mondays brought to us from Stranger and Me
This is so lovely. And I suspect that more of it is true than maybe even you know.
ReplyDelete@PattiKen: Slowly I allow that I am healing Patti. Putting words into print helps me to admit the truth of them, which in turn helps me to move on from the accusations that I seemed to constantly thrust at myself. I did the best that I could, and am beginning to admit to myself that it was a pretty reasonable job.
DeleteBlessings to you dear lady.
xo
aw...love your found heart...and the depth of feeling as you bring alive the loss...and the finding...
ReplyDelete@Brian: The harder part was the realization that I was finding myself in the loss Brian. I don't know if I ever realized at the time that it was me that was the one lost.
DeleteThis one brought tears to my eyes. Loved the line about the Yukon Gold potatoes. xo
ReplyDelete@Me: That one was very much true and came early on. I was with my Mom and she gently steered the girls away so that I could have my moment of grief, realization and small measure of acceptance. Those are the moments no one ever tells you about, but somehow seem the hardest.
DeleteTY C. Hugs
Katherine, most of the time we write from experiences. Sounded so real and beautiful, oh and sad. Anna :)
ReplyDelete@LivingInAurora: There is an undercurrent of sadness to the words, but realizing that I had to go through those moments to find him again was somehow a necessary thing. Thanks for sharing Anna
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