Loneliness

                                           Loneliness

In just three months, it will be a year since I lost my husband and loneliness is not a strong enough word to describe how I still feel after the loss. There is a deep silence that comes with losing your partner and it doesn’t matter if you’re standing in the middle of a crowded room, you will still notice it. The quiet is constantly with you. No longer do you have that familiar voice helping you drive, “Watch that car, you gonna’ run over them.” The laughter you shared together at something you thought was funny while you are watching Television. It’s the missing sound of dishes clinking together at the dinner table. However, the very worst is the absence of someone breathing soundly next to you as you try to go to sleep at night.

Family and friends are good about trying to make sure that I know that they are there if I need them, and I know they care. I could call up any number of people if I just wanted to talk, but after I hang up the telephone I am still alone. All the plans and dreams that we made together are gone.

     There is comfort in support groups and that helps to relieve the pain of loneliness for a while, but it only has the effects of taking two Tylenol for your headache. It eases the sorrow for only a bit, but when you look around the other half of you is still missing.

Often, I have found more comfort talking to strangers who do not know me than to those close to me who know exactly what I’ve been through. I really cannot explain why that is the case. Afterwards, I have asked myself, “Are You crazy!” But, I guess it is my way to just let my widowed sorrow run its course... I have talked with those who, like me, are living with the same understanding of how with a loved ones death comes guilt, anger, frustration, and sadness all wrapped up in a package with my name on it, signed “With Love, Welcome to Widowhood.”

     I miss the partner; the person who cared the most when something great or something bad happened in my life. The person who was just as excited and saddened by the milestones I faced every day. The person who was the stability in our lives and shared in the decisions we made is now enjoying everlasting comfort in Heaven, while I am slugging it out down here on my own.

I very well remember the moment that I first felt the huge change in my life after my husbands death. It was the first time I went grocery shopping at Wal-Mart (where so many of my breakdown moments have occurred) when I noticed that every item I had put into my shopping cart was things that he ate. Reality came crashing down on me as I was standing there next to the cookies and cakes that I always bought for him. I stood there  trying to wipe the tears away just long enough to get out of there as fast as I could. 

      As most of us feel, I would give anything for just one more day, one more conversation with my husband. I know that he’s gone, but I sometimes feel him anyway. Those are the mornings I wake up and feel the most alone. Even though there are so many people I could call who would listen to my “feeling sorry for me' conversation," they are just not in my head or in my heart. It is at those moments I would rather be alone because believe it or not, it is then I feel the closest to you my darling husband...It is during those times I relive some of our happy moments, vacations we have taken together, and promises we made each other. It is then I feel your gentle hands on my cheek and I know that you are patiently waiting for me to come Home...

Walk with God,
Mary Frances King