Boo's journey through widowhood: Three years

Friday, January 6, 2012

Three years

Three years.

I can't believe it's been three years since I touched the face I long to see.

And I swear ... he came to see me today. I had a nap and woke up at exactly 3 pm (which is when he had his stroke). I looked at the clock and said, "hello baba. I love and miss you still."

and I do.

I always shall.

How can I not miss the other half of my soul?

But most of all I am grateful that I had those years.

Love. Is. Stronger. Than. Death.

2 comments:

abandonedsoulsJan 6, 2012 05:17 AM
absolutely true. love is stronger than death. thinking of you. wishing i lived closer. peace.
ReplyDelete
meganJan 6, 2012 08:16 AM
it is.

love you.
ReplyDelete

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The Agony of Grief

Grief is a tidal wave that overtakes you, smashes down upon you with unimaginable force, sweeps you up into its darkness, where you tumble and crash against unidentifiable surfaces, only to be thrown out on an unknown beach, bruised, reshaped. Grief means not being able to read more than two sentences at a time. It is walking into rooms with intention that suddenly vanishes. Grief is three o'clock in the morning sweats that won't stop. It is dreadful Sundays, Mondays that are no better. It makes you look for a face in the crowd, knowing full well the face we want cannot be found in that crowd. Grief is utter aloneness that razes the rational mind and makes room for the phantasmagoric. It makes you suddenly get up and leave in the middle of a meeting, without saying a word. Grief makes what others think of you moot.

It shears away the masks of normal life and forces brutal honesty out of your mouth before propriety can stop you.

It shoves away friends, scares away so-called friends, and rewrites address books for you. Grief makes you laugh at people who cry over spilled milk, right to their faces. It tells the world that you are untouchable at the very moment when touch is the only contact that might reach you. It makes lepers out of upstanding citizens. Grief discriminates against no one. It kills. Maims. And cripples. It is the ashes from which the phoenix rises, and the mettle of rebirth. It returns life to the living dead. It teaches that there is nothing absolutely true or untrue. It assures the living that we know nothing for certain. It humbles. It shrouds. It blackens. It enlightens. Grief will make a new person out of you, if it doesn't kill you in the making.

Copyright - Stephanie Ericsson

Welcome to my personal account of my journey through widowhood

On January the 6th 2009 at 3 o'clock in the morning, my beautiful husband, my best friend, my soulmate, the one and only true love of my life took his last breath, and my world altered beyond recognition. This blog is dedicated to him and I intend to share my thoughts and feelings candidly with whoever wants to listen. My reason for writing this journal is to help me slowly heal from this devasting loss, and, longer-term hopefully it will in turn help others as they embark on their own journeys.

memories

Friday, January 6, 2012

Three years

2 comments: