The shadows will fall around the oaks and the palms and around the neighbors and this house and back porch where I will sit, drink in hand, and watch the end of this day.
A day like any other day, except that last year, tonight, Bob was here with me when the shadows fell and in the morning he was gone. Having slipped away into that shadowland, without a word, without a sound, without a warning ---- just silently slipped away.
I have had a very hard time this week, this month. Every morning I would get up and my first thought would be "Bob was alive, this day, last year, this very minute, he was alive." I did not think about this is April. I did not think this in March. Only now, in May, as "Death Day" draws near. Death Day is officially tomorrow, as that's what the death certificate says --- but I think it really is "Death Night" tonight....
For tomorrow, Bob was not with me last year.
I never knew how grief creeps and settles into every single pore of your skin, every organ of your body, every piece of your mind, heart and soul. And the tears never stop.
It doesn't seem a year has gone by. Yet it seems a million years ago. And yet, it seems only yesterday.
I wanted to post something profound, honoring Bob's memory and can not think of a single profound word to say....
Except I love you, Bob, and will love you forever. And I miss you so very much. And I still don't know how to live without you....
5 comments:
Big hugs to you. I think you honor Bob beautifully every day with your love for him.
Hugs, Diane! You may not see it, but you have grown stronger. Bob's Buddha corner was a perfect way to honor him at this time. Celebrate his life today. Do something he liked to do, eat something he enjoyed, toast him with his favorite drink.
Mary Ann
I agree with Debbie that you honor Bob every day. A year is very long, yet fleeting, amount of time. Every morning of having a stroke 6 years ago, I remember walking into our shower and showering two-handed and two-legged pre-stroke for the last time, ignorantly not even reveling in my ability to squirt shampoo into my palm and then raise both arms to scrub my hair. It's a cliche, but we just don't know when we're doing something for the last time.
I'll think of you and send virtual hugs all day.
What you wrote here is incredible. It touches the depths of my being. Your words, your truth, both so profound. The picture. *sigh* Beautiful. Your sorrow, here, on this "page" , sounding different from last year or even six months ago - - - no more can I say. Only can I feel. Only can I send love, peace, light.
I haven't been on the blogosphere much recently, but I still think of you and Bob. My heart goes out to you, especially at anniversary times.
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