Tag Archive | time

Awesomeness fades…


Awesomeness fades…

      I was alone at work today and spent a lot of time thinking. I remembered when I began taking college courses. I was so excited and so optimistic that I could not wait to tell him everything about my classes. I did not feel out of place because there were many other non-traditional students pursuing the same goals as me. I will never forget how much it meant to me when my Music instructor told me that I was “a super awesome student.” I beamed with pride. He beamed with pride. One particular exam consisted of about 75 possible terms. I studied so hard for that test because I wanted to make a perfect score. He helped me study every night. He told me that he was learning a lot too. I will never forget his expression when I explained how the Castrati obtained their beautiful voices. We had so much fun studying together. When I told my instructor how my husband was helping me, she said that I should do something special for him. He also endured the heat so that we could attend a fourth of July concert so that I could complete an assignment. He sacrificed so much so that I could concentrate on my studies.

     He not only helped me study, he encouraged me to study. When I wrote a 30-page paper for my Biology class, he took care of our three dogs so I could complete the paper. I remember that we withstood a hurricane one night when I had Biology class. He refused to let me drive because the weather was so bad and I refused to miss class, so he drove me to class. He sat out in the truck for almost three hours and never complained.

    I miss my husband. Once upon a time, I called him whenever I turned off the highway onto our dirt road. We played a little game in which I would say, “Guess where I am at?” and he would reply, “Are you on Caney?” If our daughter were nearby when we did that, she would roll her eyes and possibly gag. I think of that every time I turn off the highway. I even tried to call him once to let him know I was nearly home but then, reality hit me like a brick. Once upon a time, I called my love to tell him everything. I turn my phone off now. He already knows.

    Time stops on Saturday night. The nights are a hundred hours long. The days go by fast, but the nights drag out forever.

    I could really use one of his hugs right now. I would tell him what a wonderful husband and father he is. I would tell him how we will grow old together and sit in matching rocking chairs. I would tell him how much I love him. Most of all, I would never let go. Realizing that I will never again feel safe in his arms while on this earth is the loneliest and emptiest feeling ever.

©2011-12 Relinda R.

 

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Grief


I never knew grief so intimately before. People I loved lived and they died. It was expected. It was normalcy. I never expected the man I love with all my heart to die so suddenly. That was not normal. People that have never lost a husband or wife have been trying to tell me that I should not grieve so deeply or so long. It is pointless to try to teach them to understand. They mean well, but they have not experienced such a loss. You see, when you love so deeply, you grieve just as deeply.

I was once one of those ignorant people. I thought life should just move forward and the bereaved should just heal with time. Now I know just how ignorant it is to say “Time heals all wounds.” Time may heal many physical wounds, but it most certainly does not heal all wounds. I no longer expect people to understand, but I do expect them to respect my right to miss my husband.

ImageThey say to me, “You should get over it” right before they lie down next to their beloved in their own bed. I lie down holding the pillow that his head rested upon as he took his last breath. The bereaved do not crave pity, nor do they crave attention. What they crave is the love they lost. What they crave cannot be found on this earth or in this lifetime…and that knowledge is devastating. Every loss is different. Everyone grieves differently. Time does not heal all wounds. Time simply marches on and brings the bereaved one step closer to home. And that knowledge keeps the last vestige of hope alive upon the teardrops staining the blood which clings onto the wounded heart.

rr.