Tuesday, November 22, 2011


   I received a suggestion today from an in law.  Maybe I should consider repainting my bedroom or rearranging the furniture to make it more for "me".  Although well intentioned, it rankled.  What does that mean to me?  Mark's prioitiy was to make me happy,  so it's already for me.   It's been only six weeks since he died and I should repaint and move furniture as if that could fix things?  Or make me feel better?  No.  I'm not yet separated enough to be a "me" instead of an "us".  I can't even think of myself as widowed, single, or unmarried.   When I see the furniture the way it is, I still think of him as being part of that homescape.  I see his chair and I talk to him, which comforts me.  When I eat dinner, I sit in his place.  Right now, I'm wearing his cozy flannel shirt.  It's like a faint hug from his loving and comforting arms.   I sleep in the purple bedroom and I remember with a smile when we mistakenly chose that color.  I feel him, warm and protective, in the bed next to me.  Last night, I thought I felt him ease into bed with me, always so careful not to disturb me.  The wind and rainstorm outside made me ache for the comfort of his reassuring presence.  I always felt safe and loved when he was here.
   We had a deep and abiding love for 35 years.  A paint job, moving a few sticks of furniture is not going to heal the grievous wound of losing him.

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