I think the hardest thing about being a widow is the evening time when I’m home all by myself. I call it the bewitching hours - anything can happen. I can be perfectly fine and then not at the drop of a dime. I think today, loneliness crept in and reminded me I was a widow and not a spouse waiting for her husband to come home from a business trip. This realization really does something to me. It’s like a reality I can’t seem to grasp at times. I look at your side of the bed and ask myself, when will I be able to not look at it without feeling a sadness that makes my heart ache and break at the same time. Most days I feel like I’m just living our life waiting for you to come home. Even though I know you’re never coming home and it’s not like I’m waiting for you to come home or anything, but the thought that you are just away and will be home soon is what keeps me going most days. I feel like I’ve made some significant strides, but then there are days like today where the pain cuts deep like it did the first day. I got home and just knew it was going to be a rough night. I felt the depression and darkness starting to set in, and I tried to shake it, but honestly, there’s really nothing I can do to shake it. It usually comes in waves and hits me like a ton of bricks. So, there’s really nothing to do but let the pain in and feel it. All I can do is close my eyes, and subject myself to the darkness, the loneliness, and the emptiness.
A grieving widow who is trying to find meaning and purpose from her tragic event.