missing someone is an art unto itself

i think about him every minute of every day. it's only been 17 weeks, 4 days, and 12 hours. i miss him. there's an art to missing someone, being this lonely. i keep track of the time. i can't stop myself from doing it. i have always kept numbers in my head, always counted. i count the little holes in utilitarian ceiling tiles in public places. i count the tiles on the floor. i count wooden slats, parts that make up a whole, clouds, cars, it is a habit that i've always had. my father said he did it to. never out loud, always in my mind. i now count the days and weeks since my husband died. i won't say the months because i cannot think in terms of that sound that long. a week is a collection of days but a month is a collection of weeks and i am not ready to face that. 17 week, 4 days, 12 hours, and 10 minutes.

a woman at the group last night said she can't look too far into the future because she can't imagine it without her husband. i almost lost the rigid control i held over myself. i was so tired before i even got to the meeting last night i almost didn't go. but it's my only outside contact with a world that has largely forgotten me. but she said the words out loud. future without him in it. my teeth hurt from clenching them so tightly.

a few of the women talked of their anger at God, at him leaving. i haven't felt anger yet. i don't know if i ever will. our relationship was one that came out of the ashes of our lives. we were found mates, discovered after a trek through one form of hell on earth. but in the darkness he found me and i found him. we were so grateful. we were so happy. his eyes, always shining for me. his lips, that smile of wonder and delight that we were together. my always looking at him, and when caught, we both blushed. he is such a handsome man to me. powerfully built, scars from his life as a Marine, his soul tired from worry about how he would be perceived by God.

he had told me many times that he had long ago accepted he was going to Hell for what he'd been asked to do. i knew he could not possibly be damned because of his honor and his contrition. we told each other every day how much we loved and valued the other. i know he didn't want to go so how can i be angry at him?

as for God? who am i to question Him? with the promise of peace, how can i deny my husband the fulfillment of that promise after the life he'd led? if it had been an earthly situation of his life for mine, i would have gladly sacrificed for him. so how can i now be angry at God for granting my husband's soul peace? no matter what pain it brings me that my husband has died, i cannot feel anger at God for that gift.

i kept thinking about my husband, about how much i love him, how much i wish he were here with me planning our daughter's wedding. she so much wanted him to walk her down the aisle. she's more than a little worried about her biological father making a power play and ruining things. i told her it wasn't going to happen. i told her i knew how to take care of it. when she asked me how, i just told her to call her future mother-in-law, a lovely woman, and figure out what day we can all go watch her try on wedding gowns. she smiled. she knows when i'm deflecting, but she also knows i want her to have a happy day, and a happy few weeks making all the arrangements. it's her time right now. it's my time to step back up. our Marine can't be here to do it so it's up to me to protect her. i'm back on guard duty. i'd done it for eighteen years, right up until i met my Marine. i can do it again. i know the rules. i've played before.

but when i'm alone, which is 99% of the time, i sigh, and i mourn, i grieve, and i write. i wrote this poem. it's elementary in it's structure but i feel like a child today. i'm sad and cranky and i hurt so much from longing for his voice, his laugh, his being physically near. near enough for me to touch. near enough for me to play the girl card and ask him to hug me, to hold me, to whisper in my ear and make me smile. i miss him in ways there are not words for. my soul misses his love. my mind misses his intellect. my heart misses his laugh.

i slept while he was in my life. i didn't have to keep one ear to the ground. i didn't have to think of an escape plan for one woman and two children while i was his wife. i had been looking for a dragon of a man, and he was exactly that, but so much more. i've lost so much.

do you ever think of me?
do you wish you knew,
if i was tired or happy or
if i was sad or blue?

do you wonder where i am?
do you wonder who i see?
if you knew how sad i am right now
could you send a sign to me?

do you ever ask "what if?"
do you ever want to cry?
if time is supposed to heal all wounds
does that mean my love will die?

do you ever think of me?
do you say my name?
since you've died, are gone from me,
i will never be the same.

17 days, 4 days, 12 hours, and 38 minutes. sigh.