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Yes, they stay with us as much as they can.
Being able to sense them takes some of the destructive, crushing pressure out of the grief.
It's still sad, though, because all of the little things that are the only things that matter, they're all little tortures now instead of events. Stopping for gas is traumatic ... he's not here, he's not at home, I can't call him about my day ... I can't hear his voice... I hear his perspective about that crazy person who confused me (he was great with crazy people!)...The grocery store, I can't actually handle. It's too much. A friend stays on the phone with me the whole time I shop, to keep me from melting down in sorrow and panic.
I don't want to do this without him here.
Hi Laurie, Just want to say so very sorry for your heart! It has been 13 months since my husband died and we had no children. So I relate to quiet home... I really have no words that will help, but this site gives me a safe place to get out my feelings and keeps me breathing for another day. Hope you will find a little comfort here too. Libbie
Hi Lauri,
When you ask, "will this ever get better?" Are you asking out loud, because the question keeps happening in your mind and it needs to be expressed?
I am always hearing a question in my mind ... well, not quite exactly a question, but more of a wondering. If I could put it into words, it would be this that I am wondering to myself "there is some sort of fix to this, right? Somehow?"
I keep re-feeling my happiness and my hope in him, my appreciation for just being together. I re-feel so happy at how we have ended up together, where we have always belonged! The rest of everything never mattered to me. But D! D matters to me. With D, my life makes sense.
I re-feel anew my gratitude for his smile and his earnest eyes, his brilliance, his goofy humor, his courage. His just being himself, in all his little ways. How after so many years I just keep falling ever deeper in love with him.
Then I am re-crushed again. Oh, God, no. Our story ended. Oh God.
No.
It was like I turned a page to keep reading an ongoing story, and here I had no idea that the whole book just finishes right in the middle of the story.
We are just suddenly done. There are just suddenly no more pages. I feel in a scramble as if I've lost something that was just here, thinking, frantically, but... wait ... isn't there a happy ending here ... somehow, isn't there, still? My love is still just as alive as it ever was, even more so, each day that passes I miss him more. My ears are aching now from wanting the sound of his voice to be heard by them, his breathing in his sleep to whisper to them at night, comfort, love, belonging, tenderness, joy.
For me, I think it will get better if I can better perceive his new form of existence. Most of you reading this know how I do believe in an afterlife, and do believe I can sense and maybe even, maybe, see a glimpse here and there, but not sure if it is a trick of the light and my own desperation. I'm working on it, and I think I'm getting better at sensing and communicating with him.For me, I think it will be all the way better when it is all done, and I can move along myself to the place where he is (fingers crossed).
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