November 23, 2016
323 days ago, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get through another day. Nor, did I want to. The emptiness of losing my husband has been overwhelming. The past nine-and-a-half months have been even harder than the nine-and-a-half years we spent fighting the stupid cancer. I remember in 2007, the doctors telling us that we would have a new normal. We refused to believe that. But 332 days ago, I had to face a new normal. So far…..nothing is normal….except getting up and going to work.
For the past 332 days, my new normal has consisted of coming home to an empty house every night….not having anyone to share dreams with as we lie together at night….not buying groceries….because, what’s the point? It’s only me here.
I cry uncontrollably. I fight anxiety of upcoming special days and holidays. I cry some more until I finally drift off to sleep. Then, I dream of him….and they haven’t been of happy times; no, they are always of his final days. It haunts me….and I reluctantly awaken each morning with emotional exhaustion just to do it all over again in a few hours.
For 332 days I have tried to find meaning in all the pain. With no luck, I’ve tried to find myself again. I have wept silently and I have screamed in the woods just to make sure God heard me. I never want to forget the pain of losing my husband because that pain is from the loss of the love we shared. It’s not “normal” for me to feel vulnerable….weak….alone.