Three years ago this moment his body had been removed from the house. It wasn't un-expected, but it had all happened so swiftly. The love of my life had passed peacefully into eternity, and I was left with an empty space where all of his vitality had been.
The past three years have been sort of a vacuum. I've gone through the motions of some kind of existence - it's all been pretty blurry - and the only constant has been a persistent ache, as if part of my soul were missing.
It has only been recently that I've felt the unbearable weight of loss begin to ease - and 'me' is returning to me. It's been slow, marked by many pitfalls, but I can feel it happening.
The hardest thing to deal with is hearing the longing in my children's voices. Even though they're all grown up and have children of their own, there is a certain tone that resounds whenever they talk about their dad. I hurt for them. I want to comfort them. Add to that the birth of twin grandsons who will never know the warmth of the love of their wonderful grandfather, and there are times when the poignancy of loss wrings my heart once again.
But we trudge along - and the days become months, then years, and the memories become more precious as we try to hang onto what was. His legacy lives on in so many ways, and the reminders surround me. I thank God that this lovely man made me the mother of his amazing children. I thank God that I can sit in this house, every inch of which he touched, and so much of which he built. I thank God that there is sort of a reverence when people speak of him. I thank God that my husband gave all of us the gift of his love and devotion, his energy, his wisdom, his intensity. I thank God that we have the example of this man's life and his values to cherish. I thank God that he taught us all the beauty and power of the wind and sails. His spirit is in the breezes that blow us along the water.
I thank God that I have so much to be grateful for. From my perspective, it's been an incredibly short journey, but I wouldn't have missed an inch of it.
Bravo. What a life it's been. Wish I could spend some time with you soon. Why don't you come visit...
ReplyDeleteConsider yourself very, very fortunate to have older children with children of their own when you were widowed. Just about every son or daughter misses the dead parent, no matter what their age. If your adult children are hurting that their father "passed peacefully into eternity" they need to find their own way into therapy or simply just deal with their loss.
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