how did i get here?

my husband, my beautiful Dragon, died suddenly at 12:03 AM on 9 February 2009. there was a cold, lovely full moon and 3 feet of snow on the ground. i "slept" for the following 10 months and "woke" to the physical and emotional pain and torments of deep grief. i "woke" to find i had moved the day of his funeral and that i am lost. i am looking for me while i figure out the abstract, unanswerable questions that follow behind any death. my art has evolved. his death changed that as well because i am forever changed and will forever bear the mark of losing the only man i can ever love.
there is alive and there is dead and there is a place in between. i am here wholly in my heart for my children, but i feel empty inside at this time. i miss him. i have not gotten very far in my grief journey. i make no apologies for this.
this is my place, my blog, where i write to tell the universe that i am still here.

Monday, July 20, 2009

3 AM

i've been trying to sleep. i can't. obviously. i miss him. i miss him lying beside me. when i had bouts of insomnia i could sneak and hold his hand, or snuggle up against him and smell his skin, feel his warmth, listen to his breathing, and see the rise and fall of his chest in the soft light of the nightlight. his hand would always squeeze mine to let me know he knew i needed him. sometimes he would sleepily whisper, "you okay?" i'd kiss his shoulder and whisper, "yeah." there would be a soft smile that played out over his lips and he would settle back into his deep sleep. i would be reassured. i would be able to fall asleep.

i love him so much. i still cry everyday. one week shy of 6 months and i cry everyday. i have trouble sleeping.

i have my work, the Memory Quilts. i am busy helping my daughter with her wedding. i've got sewing up the wazoo to do. busy days. tired at the end. i have a new friend. she called tonight and we made plans to go out to dinner tomorrow....well, tonight. i'm looking forward to that.

but i love him so much i ache. my heart cries out his name. sometimes i can't not say his name out loud. my dogs look at me. they know that name. they recognize the longing i am feeling, the unrest.

it's 3 AM and i'm up writing yet wishing i was reaching for his hand, smelling his neck and feeling his smile at the eccentric behavior. i loved his smell. right at the curve of his neck to his shoulder. he could have showered with the most flowery soap and yet still smell like the woods or Old Spice or something. he always smelled so good. i'm wishing i could see his chest rise and fall. feel him turn to me and wrap his arms around me, or if his back was to me and he didn't want to change positions, pull my arm around him and hold my hand in his. i'd lay my head against his back and hear his heart beat.

he had the strongest heartbeat. until it gave out that night 5 months and 3 weeks ago tonight.

my heart is crying out for him tonight. i wouldn't mind being back in our old, old house in Rockport by Whale Cove with a cold wind blowing outside and him on the sofa where he liked to recline while watching television. i'd sit in my chair beside him sewing, and sneaking pictures of him until he told me to put the camera down and come lay with him. there on that sofa, while he watched television, in his arms, my head on his strong chest, there i could sleep.

i am going to go back to bed and close my eyes and lie to myself that that is where i am. then maybe i'll get a little bit of sleep.


Roads said...

3am is the hardest time. It's hard to explain how empty is a bed that fails to support just one lonely soul within it.

Wild stormy nights, with a cold wind whistling outside. And warm, restlessly humid summer nights, too.

It's funny how we define our lives by our thoughts within the waking hours, but -- and you're exactly right here -- how we spend the long still and unthinking hours of darkness together is just as important in defining a relationship across the years as well.

Thoughts like these in the depths of blackest night are hard to bear beyond belief. And yet they bring something more as well -- since in hours like these you can almost conjure the person back to be with you again. And in your mind they will never really leave. Not ever.

Spirits up.

J-in-Wales said...

Wishing you a peaceful night tonight. xx

Widow in the Middle said...

Such beautiful words...

I am happy you are going out to dinner tonight - a little distraction never hurt and someone else doing the cooking once in a while is always good!

Keep letting your tears, feelings and words flow. It is the way through the grief as painful as it is. During my time of crying, I never thought the human body could hold so many tears.

You are a strong, courageous and wonderful soul giving so much out to the world even while dealing with such a tremendous personal loss. My heart is with you as you continue forward.

womanNshadows said...

Roads, it's funny how in my deepest grief, i wouldn't trade it for not having known him. i'd go through this again and again for the honor and privilege of having been his wife.

J-in-Wales, thank you.

Widow in the Middle, i am back from my dinner out. it was fun. the tears will continue for as long as they will. i don't try to control it while i'm alone at home. i let it come so that i can get beyond it. one baby step at a time.

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