He would tell me he felt half of his molecules were missing when we were apart. That is the way my body has felt these last ten and a half months.
But I'm beginning to be able to see past the wall that's contained me. A wall that is impossible to scale or see over. You go through the motions of life from habit, but your heart is rarely anywhere but stuck in its brokenness.
There is a growing crispness, a definite clarity to life that this loss has given me. A gift of sorts. I smile more now at the simplest acts of caring ... yet I cringe more at unkindness and apathy.
The raw wounds that were healing then reopened time and time again are making more progress in healing. The sneaker waves of grief don't hit all day long but still come at unpredictable times. I'm learning to live with them as my new normal. They don't control me with the same power, yet I know they'll be around for a long time to come. They remind me of who I am, what was and still is, what I've been through and what I never want to forget. There is much to remember and bring with me into today ... and into tomorrow....
My confidence and strength grows... as he wanted it to. I sense his closeness. (I feel it when the car needs a jump start and I find a battery charger in the garage) ... when I ponder a thousand little things he found joy in doing for me .... I feel it all throughout the day when I see how God still uses this man to remind me of His love.
He is as much a part of my life as the air and food and water that nourish my body. Therefore I shall not fear losing someone who has been, and is, a part of me.