day 47 a.d.

He’s been dead 47 days now. As hard as I try, I can’t stop counting the days. In so many ways, I feel like a murderess, caught up in her own betrayals and sentenced to a life sentence. But, it is no crime, nor is there a sentence, for betraying oneself. And, each day you killed off because you could not break free of the entanglements of the heart is only that…a day. Even though each and every one we live is one that we can’t get back any more than we could bring blood-life, again, to one we took.

My mother insists that I should remember his terrible ways. She says that, should I have a good memory of him, to immediately recall a hurtful thing. True, I could to that. I did enough of it while he lived and breathed, after all. But, Mom wasn’t there for the good things…the intimate things a woman only shares with the man she loves. She wasn’t there for Christmas mornings spent hiding with him, camcorder in hand, waiting to hear the first little feet hitting the stairs to come see what Santa left. She wasn’t there to see him flying into the parking lot after a hard day’s work, to catch the last bit of Little League practice, or how he’d tell me to stay in bed as he’d get up to check on the boys if one cried out in the night. She never heard his laugh. Not the one I heard as we’d trade stories of childhood misadventure and awkward first dates. We had some great times together, he and I. They count, too. Just because things didn’t end well with us does not mean that we did not share something amazing once. If I’m going to live with his memory, I want those things to be part of it. I’d honestly love to let the bad things fall to the dirt with him. I can’t, but I’d love to.

7 thoughts on “day 47 a.d.

  1. Every time I read one of these posts I’m amazed all over again at your honesty with yourself and your ability to be self aware through the early stages of grieving. When my first husband died I was out of my head with grief and only years later could I look back and decipher my actions from that time. I stand in awe of you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. And, I’m sorry for your loss. Grief is so strange. It’s different for everyone. I know that now. I thought it was an ABC style emotional thing that you just clicked off as you went along. Sometimes, it just hits like a bolt of lightning and I’m helpless. I’m sure you’ve experienced that. Isn’t it the worst? Because you never know when it will strike.
      Your kind words mean a lot to me. Thank you, again.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you, love. Mine was 13 years ago, and honestly sometimes those lightening flashes still appear out of the blue, but they are far between now, and the vast majority of the time I am simply left feeling blessed to have shared time with him here in this existence.

        During the first year, the ones that hurt the most were when I experienced some small piece of joy and my first thought was that I couldn’t wait to tell him, and then I remembered all over again with the full weight and breadth of a mountain of pain landing on my soul anew. I didn’t have conflicted feelings, in life he was just my light, never the darkness. Grabbing four plates instead of three…

        The worst for me, and the only grief that still overtakes me occasionally like a white hot knife, are the images that can not be excised from my head of his last moments. It is a selfish indulgent pain, because that is not him. Not who he was. Not who he is now. It happened just yesterday, actually…

        How odd that I felt a kinship with you long before this happened. Life is strange that way. I’m hugging your heart… your beautiful and brave heart.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. You are something quite wonderful. Hugs back to you. Thank you so much for sharing that. I feel the same about the end. Oh, God…it never leaves. The sight of him is stuck in my eyes, almost in a physical way. You’re the only person who has said anything about that. So it’s true. I knew it would never leave. But it’s okay. You know? It has to be. Bless your heart for sharing that. I mean it from my soul. It’s a secret that I needed to be in on. Thank you.

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.