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.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

the hug

there is this thing we did that i miss.
we would hug.
or more than hug, by definition, but it was a hug.
 we hugged like people imagine a hug, but we also did this one other thing,
do it this one other way.

i have had a life of being starved for human contact, for the need of being touched.
my parents did not touch us, my brother and me.  they were not affectionate people.
my grandparents would hug us, hold our hands, but our parents did not.
and oddly now that i think of it, our grandparents did not touch us in front of our parents.

my first husband hated being touched.  he hated touching me
he told me once to never touch him.  so i was very careful if we stood in close proximity.
no holding hands.  no sitting on the sofa together.  no touching.
he slept in a different bedroom and for 15+ years, i was not touched by him.

as my children grew up, i kept holding their hands, ruffling their hair, kissing their cheeks,
and hugging them.
i never wanted them to feel alone in the world.
 i never wanted them to feel worthless, or like there was something wrong with them.
there is nothing wrong with wanting a hug, or wanting to hold someone's hand.

my Dragon liked touching me.
he would hold my hand.
he would hug me.
but he would also do this one other thing.

i would lay down on the bed and he would lay down on top of me and hold me.
i would feel his big body pressing down on me.
he would nuzzle my neck and whisper in my ear,
"i love you.  you are mine and you are safe.
i will never tire of touching you.
you are my love forever and ever."

i had told him what it felt like to realize the people
who are supposed to love you to not want to touch you.
he never wanted me to feel like that again.

i feel that again.  so i close my eyes
and remember the hug.


Judy said...

YES!!! At first, I thought the hardest part was not hearing his voice. Now I know--the ache is from lacking the almost constant physical contact we had all day.

Unknown said...

My son was a solid 6'2". He still loved to sit on my lap - as I gasped and protested half heartedly. I miss that. The weight of his absence is even worse.

Anonymous said...

Beautiful picture, so much love in his face when he looks at you:) Those wonderful people in our lives, yes, miss the sitting on the lap, the hugs, the looks, too. So sorry for your losses above too.x

Anonymous said...

What I miss most. The hugs, the arm round the shoulder, the comfort of coming home to someone who will make it better with a hug.

thelmaz said...

I miss the hugs, too. No one else's are the same. Sorry I've been MIA these last months.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for continuing your blog, I'm one of many who visit every week, it's a comfort to know you are still here. Every post is something I can identify with on the stages to recovery of widowhood. Particularly like the picture of the woman on the shore, waiting for the return of her husband, and all the sea related pictures. Tis a place of beauty, and am glad to come here and rest a while. Agree about the hugs too! Take care, Sarah x best to us all who miss that special someone x

Anonymous said...

I stumbled across your blog. And although I'm still young and never experienced things like this, I cried my eyes out reading it. I hope that you will have a time in your life when you can feel happy again.

Anonymous said...

Oh gosh, this is so heartfelt, and so easy for me to relate to. Know the feeling of never having the affection or hugs from parents, then "coming home" when you find the one you love, and for the first time you are hugged, as though you mean something to someone at last. And oh my gosh is it hard to live without it when it's gone again. It's a kick to the heart. I swear everytime I come here, I read something I identify with. Can't tell my friends who haven't experienced it because they don't - and can't - understand how I feel, but when I come here I know that you do. Bless you for writing. Maisy.

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