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.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

23 and 56




a man my Dragon served with in the Marines had several photos of him during the handful of years they knew each other after Vietnam. my Dragon had been back from his third and final tour of duty and was a senior in college when this picture was taken. he was 23 years old.
the other one is when he was 56 years old. i see the man i know in the face of the younger man i didn't get to meet.

it's been very painful to see these pictures but i'd rather be holding them and crying than not have them.

8 months tonight. i have a pain on or in my chest that is crushing me. i can't focus on anything, not music, not a television show. nothing holds my attention. i've stabbed myself with the needle so many times as full on dark approached that i had to stop working. i've worked from 7 AM until 8 PM on this quilt. i will have it finished for the meeting Thursday night to give it to the widow who has been waiting for it.

once it's done, i'm taking 5 minutes for myself to hold my own quilt that i haven't worked on since July. i just want to touch it. i want to bring his jeans to my face and see if i can still smell the salt air on them. close my eyes and try to bring forth what it felt like to be in his arms.

i'm tired and my hands hurt. my ears are ringing and i can't breathe for the crying. i wish i'd been allowed to have him for just a bit longer. he has such a beautiful soul. he made me feel important. cherished. loved. at least one person knew where i was every minute of the day. if i went for a walk alone, someone was waiting for me. i was anticipated and expected. someone would get lonely for my company.

i love him. i miss him. i talk to him all the time. i'm so lonely without him. my heart is broken.

5 comments:

Debbie said...

Your Dragon was a handsome man at both ages! At 56, he looks more peaceful and content, looking at the woman he loves more than life itself. Sending you hugs. I hope you are able to get some healing sleep which brings your Dragon to your dreams.

Boo said...

I can't type for crying, but I send you love xx

twinmom said...

Your Dragon's kind heart and beautiful soul are evident in his eyes, especially the picture in which he is looking at you. I'm so sorry you couldn't have had him longer. To have held such a precious love, and then have to let it go, at least the tangible, physical aspects, must be so painful. You're right to take some time to hold your quilt and inhale, dream, remember. He still loves you, you are still the one he is watching over.

Supa Dupa Fresh said...

I will be thinking of you during those five minutes, and praying that you find more peace come tomorrow. Perhaps the milder Southern winter will be kind to you... spring will look different.

Comfort and hugs to you.

X

Supa

abandonedsouls said...

Suddenwidow, thank you for your words. they mean a great deal. and yeah, wasn't he a hunk?

Boo, your generous and empathetic soul always reaches out through your writing.

twinmom, you could see his soul in his eyes. thank you for saying he still loves me. i can't hear that enough.

Supa Dupa, the weather is milder here and my arthritis isn't kicking in yet. Spring, i do look forward to that. past the holidays. past the one year anniversary. i accept the comfort and hugs. thank you so very much.

Post a Comment