Monday, March 14, 2016

The first two weeks after losing him...

I honestly don't know how I have made it these two weeks of my new life as a widow. A life that I am very begrudgingly walking through like a zombie.

Breathe. Drink water. Breathe. One foot in front of the other. Breathe. Drink water. Breathe. Try to eat, even if it is only a bite. Breathe. Try to sleep. Breathe.

That breathing thing is very important. It's amazing how many times my breath gets taken away by the grief. I can't tell you how many times I have felt like I might faint. Taking the dog for a walk leaves me breathless at the thought of coming home to an empty apartment. Going to the store leaves me breathless because my shopping always involved both of us and I would enjoy buying him little treats. Everywhere I look, I see things he loved and surprises I loved buying for him. He would get so excited over the smallest treat. He was so easy to please. His smile brightened my world.

Breathe. Cry. Breathe. Remember. Breathe. Just.Get.To.The.Next.Moment.

The first week I was surrounded by family and friends in our little apartment. I love them all very much but it was difficult being surrounded by all that activity and hiding a good amount of my grief. Then they all left. I thought it would be easier somehow. Now I'm alone to let my grief come out and it isn't any better than being surrounded. I'm alone everywhere I go no matter how many people are there. Nothing is ever enough because I don't have my husband here with me to be my best friend and give me emotional support the way he so lovingly would. It's all I want right now.

He was amazing and kind and imperfect and flawed. I loved every single part of him. I still do. I will forever. I love you, S and I always will.

Breathe. Drink water. Breathe. Get through. Breathe. Just breathe...


7 comments:

  1. AnneR, I lost my husband on January 16, 2016. He had gone to the hospital to prepare for a heart transplant and in the interim passed away. I miss him so much. I understand what you say by "breathe". There are so many times that I think I can not breathe. I too feel the emptiness of my home. I was so proud of my large home with 5 bedrooms and so much room to entertain. Now it's just a house with no one to share it with. I get so lonely. I understand...breathe..

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  2. I'm so sorry Sommers mom. This kind of loss cuts so deep. I wish none of us understood this pain but I am glad to meet you and thank you for adding to the widows' voice, which reminds us that we aren't alone even if we are reading in our empty homes. <3

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  3. Lovelovelove to you.
    Deborah

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  4. I remember the day after my handsome man's services my house was full of family and friends, eating, sharing stories, laughing. A house full of people and I felt so alone. Thank you for sharing.

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  5. You have expressed so well exactly how I felt. It will get better, but at this stage of time, it is so raw and hurts so much.

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  6. My husband of 29 years died May 2, 2013. It doesn't get "better" it just goes a little bit to the background of life. I'm glad Misadventures of Widowhood shared your blog. Thanks for writing!

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