Saturday, March 22, 2014

Have I Told You...

Have I told you Kenneth had died?

No, I guess not.

Maybe because all I have done since he passed away is sleep and cry. I just don't know if life will ever have meaning for me again. I ached for Ken every day, and I still search for him at night, as I used to do when I would check on him. I talk to him sometimes, all alone, but obviously I don't hear anything back. I just want him back! And yet I know he will never be back. How do I move past this grief? How do I move on? I know I should have seen this coming, as his recovery was like an obstacle course in the past eight months, but I was woefully unprepared for this kind of loss. I think I didn't want to believe it could happen.

When I got home from the hospital after Ken died, I was overwhelmed with emotions. Grief - how could he be gone? And anger - how could he leave me? I was just about ready to renovate his bedroom! I was already planning for activities we can do together when he is finally released from the hospital. I am excited to hear his voice echo in our house again.

Right now our house felt empty. There are no other voices/sobs I hear but mine. I shed tears as I walk around the house knowing that I am now alone. We have spent only three years together, yet we created so many memories. Losing Ken had changed my entire life. I feel completely lost and totally uncomfortable making even minor decisions. Not that I haven't made decisions before. But... Ken was always there. And now he was not.

It has been a month to this day since Ken left me. The first week was mercifully numbing. Much of the time I sleep walked through the things I had to do. So numb that I was often completely unaware of what was going on around me. The next week I went from depression to panic attacks, back to depression to not sleeping, to sleeping too much, to never leaving the house, to not wanting to go back to the house. The weeks that followed were both utterly full and completely empty ... full of activity yet empty of life. I felt cut off from everything that I thought was my life. But there are preparations I need to do, people I need to talk to which somehow brought me out of my darkness, only to find myself standing alone and confused on some strange and unfamiliar shore, full of feelings and memories, but also feeling utterly lost. The town I have come to love suddenly look like a different place, often odd and distanced. I am are not sure how to cope with life in general, and sometimes I even wondered if I even want to try.

I didn't think it was possible to think about someone as many times a day as I think of him. I am missing Ken so much.

Yes, I will always miss him and I know that the sadness will remain forever. But he brought me so much joy also. I am grateful for the three years I had spent with him, that I was blessed with his goodness and love. I will always have that love.

I am grateful that he is resting now and has no more worries.

Goodnight Ken. Sleep tight.


Anonymous said...

You are not alone, dear lady. Never think that you are. There are people around you who love you more than you can imagine! Look to them, and be thankful not just for them, but for the time you had to spend with Ken. I know words are easy to say, and I know what grief can do to a person. While no one can fully understand another person's grief, sometimes sharing it can ease the sorrow we feel. I know how it was when I lost my mom, and how all I wanted to do was hear her voice one more time, or see her one more time. There were even times I thought I did. But it does help to have someone to talk to. Just know you have a friend right here in me.

Sid Brechin said...

As always my prayers are with you Odette

Odette said...

Thank you for your empathy. The wound is still fresh that I can't help feeling entirely alone and incomplete.
Sometimes I would feel relieved that his suffering is over, but then feel guilty that I think that way.

Odette said...

You are always there and I am grateful for that.


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