Roller Coaster

Today was up and down.

My schedule got thrown off course today when I went looking for something in my bedroom.  It led to cleaning off my vanity – which had been used as a repository for *stuff* since we moved in here.

I don’t even know if I want the vanity – but I needed to find what I was looking for (I never did).  So in the process of trying to find it, I cleaned off the vanity.  I moved some pictures around.  I put up a mirror.

And I cried.  I bawled.  I sobbed over and over and over and the only thing I could say was “Why…?”

I don’t know how long I cried for, but I cried the entire time I cleaned off the vanity.  It sits next to his dresser, and so it’s always been a sort of an extension of his dresser… and I cried.

The dresser is still… a mess.  But it’s his dresser.  It’s some of my stuff, but it’s his dresser and I’m not ready to go there yet.  The thought of cleaning off, cleaning out his dresser is … repugnant?  foreign? I don’t know how to describe it… it’s WRONG.   I know he’s gone.  I know he’s not coming back.  But the thought of dealing with his stuff feels as wrong as if he were still here.  He’s my HUSBAND and it belongs there.

So that was my down time today.  Cried and cried while I cleaned.  But I have a clean, almost usable vanity.  I say almost because the drawers are still filled with his stuff.   I haven’t gone there yet.

Then…. the pendants are ready.  I picked them up today.  I’ve been wearing mine ever since, and I can’t imagine taking it off.  It brings me a measure of peace.  A measure of comfort, having part of him next to my heart always.

I miss him… so much.  A lot of this feels inherently wrong without him.  Coming home to my house without him felt wrong.  Going to bed every night without him feels wrong.

And I’m left asking….. why…?  Why him…?  Why did he have to get sick?  Why did he have to die?  Why couldn’t he beat the odds one last time?

Why?

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One thought on “Roller Coaster

  1. Hadassah Hannah says:

    This is wonderfully written. I hate to sound cliche, but I really can feel your pain.

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