Yesterday, I cried for the us that is no more, for the couple, the twosome who moved through life together – sharing love, joy, faith, struggles, worries, accomplishments and successes, illnesses and loss, adversity and failures.
Yesterday I lamented the smiles not shared, hands not held, prayers not said, affection not exchanged, bed not slept in, memories not swapped, meals not shared, observations not made, arguments not had, vacations not taken, thoughts not offered, issues not discussed, music not listened to, dances not danced.
Yesterday I mourned the lack of sounds, of laughter over private jokes, of his footstep, of loud groans when favorite teams were losing, of sounds of appreciation with the first taste of a favorite food, of his excited voice when chatting with grandchildren or talking politics, of his affectionate voice as he said, “Hi Sweetheart.”
Yesterday I pined for his presence and aura, his intelligence and wit, his personhood. I grieved all my loved ones who no longer live in my world. They have all moved on to life in the spirit, leaving me behind.
Yesterday I wept for me, for the ten months and one day I have been alone, no longer a part of a couple, of one half of a whole. Single with an independence I didn’t ask for, responsible for all decisions great and small, unfamiliar with the me that is emerging, born fully grown. Sometimes Stoic and strong, sometimes tearful and sad, sometimes even content and at peace. Some days capable and efficient, other days preoccupied. Some days I consider this time as gift from heaven, as opportunity to grow emotionally and spiritually, to experience another way to live; other times it is a lonely burden.
Today I’m grateful for my life, for this trackless pilgrimage with peaks and valleys, sharp curves and rolling hills, crags and chasms, meadows and waterfalls that I never knew I would encounter – all coming at warp speed without advance notice.
Today I am grateful for the light of faith that reminds me to accept the present moment. My life still has meaning. Today I hope to reclaim parts of myself that got lost or neglected when I became wife and mother. Today I am willing to consider the options solitude offers. What will I embrace tomorrow?
