It’s been nearly two and a half years that I’ve been widowed. Shouldn’t I be over it by now?
I should be. Maybe. But I’m not. I weep for Jon still, every day. And sometimes during the night.
You’d think the deepest regions of my psyche would have gotten the message by now. He’s gone. Get used to it. Get real. Tears aren’t going to bring him back today any more than they brought him back on the night you got that phone call.
Yet I continue to harbor an inexplicable, magical sense that if I cry, if I let loose with my sadness and loss, if I give in to it full-on, then the whole dreadful pageant will reverse itself, and Jon won’t be dead any more.
Widowed: Shouldn’t I Be Over It by Now?
When my father and then, two decades later, my mother died, I wept. I felt the sorrow. I still feel the sadness. But mostly I feel glad that I had my father and my mother. Their memory shores me up. It doesn’t horrify me.
With Jon, it’s different. Something is wrong. Something is amiss. The universe has tilted and it hasn’t been able to right itself.
It’s true that the grief at twenty-eight months is not the same as it was at one week or one month or even one year. What I feel now is less of the horror I felt at the now-you-see-him-now-you-don’t of Jon’s sudden death.
It feels more like a missing limb. There’s a blank spot where Jon is supposed to be. I’m attached to something that isn’t there.
Where’s Jon?
It’s time for dinner. Why isn’t Jon calling me from the kitchen to tell me dinner is ready?
I’m just back from the audiologist. I’ve lost some hearing in the higher registers. Why isn’t Jon here to take in the news?
Where is Jon, anyway? He’s got to be somewhere. If he’s not here, he must be somewhere. How else can it be?
Something is askew.
More about Lake Michigan at “On the Shores of Lake Michigan — Eagle Top, a Wild Place Tamed.” More about Jon at “Who Will Look After Me Now that Jon Is Gone?”
“should “? i don’t think that applies. even i am not over jon’s absence in this world.
Jon appreciated your friendship a lot. That’s probably why you miss him.
In my experience, we get used to grief, not ‘over it’. We carry the person with us, in our hearts. Our grief is a measure of our love. We can’t get over it. Hugs, eb
Hugs!!!!
We never stop missing the presence of our special mate. Filling our days without them is a huge challenge and taking up a “new” something has helped me very much. I now play Pickle Ball as many days a week as I can. I’ve always loved sports and it gets me out of the house and because it is doubles there are 4 people playing each game to laugh and socialize with.
Hang in there Barbara. Nancy Sanders
Pickle ball! One of these days I’m going to give it a try! Fun is good.
“”I am attached to something that isn’t there.”” That something is the someone who was/is the major companion of our lives. I think the “was/is” is the confused reality.
I do not want to be detached, but I wish missing my partner was not so painful, nor life empty of his being in this presence.
– Kathleen
So true. We don’t want to detach from our loved person. But staying attached is painful.