Day 186. This day marks 6 full months of life without my husband. What I know today is that the pain never gets any less. It’s still as sharp and as fresh as the night I lost him. It’s this pain that wakes me from my sleep in the morning. It’s the same pain that leaves me to collapse into sleep at night. Some say that certain moments, sights, sounds, or smells will trigger sadness. For me it is every breath. His memory is so infused into every part of who I am that I can’t help but remember him in every moment. Some people move through a valley of grief. Some people move forward with grief. I often find I cannot move at all.
I absolutely hate this new life I’m left with. It has been reduced to a series of tasks and obligations. Those moments of shared joy, shared secrets, and shared dreams realized are gone. I was always an outsider until I met him. Finally, with him, I belonged. In this new life, I’m an outsider once more.
What I know now that these 6 months have past is that my best usefulness, my only usefulness, is to cobble together the broken pieces so that I can care for my girls. I will give them everything I have left and hope that it’s enough. Perhaps there is some virtue in being useful.
Life has often broken me in one way or another. I’ve always gotten back up. I’ve reinvented myself. I’ve repaired myself in new ways. I’ve never been this shattered. Life may have finally broken me beyond repair. Humans tend to want to see the lesson in all that happens to them. Perhaps this is my lesson. What to do with a broken life.