I’ve been gone four months.  My husband died. Cancer took him.  I’m a young widow. I can’t believe I just typed that. I find myself in limbo except when I’m on the phone closing down his accounts and paying the last bills he had.  I find that lately things take three times as long to do.  That I seem to sleep like a bird, 20 minutes or an hour at a time.  I find that things I start take me so long and are so painful to finish because I know that once I’m finished I have to move on. Yeah, moving on.  I’m still trying to figure out how to move around in bed,  knowing that I’m the only one there.
My eyes have not been closed for even 4 hours straight for over two years between appointments, and midnight meals, and running after my husband so he can make it to the toilet to puke. Now,  I’m awakened like clockwork every hour and a half and find no one there,  but the cat.  And I know she knows.  Three days ago we received my husband’s ashes and she was all over the box. She still goes up to the top of the dresser to check it out.  She misses him too.

Many people say “scream, cry, throw shit around, get your anger out”. It’s funny, then they get defensive when you show emotions.  They tell me that I’ve become too high gravity.  So,  I go back to square one,  deafening quiet. I often wonder what my husband would say. How he would react to all this quiet madness.