Many attempts to communicate are nullified by saying too much.
Robert Greenleaf
I have gone quiet. I am shocked by how little I have to say. If you know me at all this is a surprising phase for me. I am constantly sharing, endlessly prattling on, always coming up with something to say about one thing or another. And I really don't let lack of knowledge hinder me. Like the Energizer bunny I keep going and going and going...
Until now.
Now my heart is aching. My mind is full and my throat closes often.
Now I am reading sad books and watching sad movies and working myself too hard and trying to be with my kiddos during their fun Summer. I am quiet there too. I don't have anything to say so I am quiet.
I wonder when I will feel like me again. I wonder if the way "me" feels is changed forever.
But here is what I want people to know: I don't care that her body was just a vessel. I miss the fucking vessel. I miss it and I want it back. I don't care that we will have her in our hearts forever. She is too big for my heart. It hurts every day with her all crowded in there. I want her out of there and in the world where I can say more things and go to more movies and laugh more and seek her counsel more.
I know we will tell the stories but I want her grandkids to grow up with her, not the stories about her. I want her husband to not be so unmoored by the loss of his partner that his grief doesn't let him through the grocery store with enough food to sustain him. I want him to not have to berate himself when he calls every woman her name. That name that is supposed to come out of his mouth forever, same as it has for the past 40 years, but there is no one here to receive it, to respond to it.
She should be here. My heart is so sore. My chest feels bruised.
And what I know is that everyone I have ever loved will leave me in this way. And I'm scared to death.
I'm so scared.
Until now.
Now my heart is aching. My mind is full and my throat closes often.
Now I am reading sad books and watching sad movies and working myself too hard and trying to be with my kiddos during their fun Summer. I am quiet there too. I don't have anything to say so I am quiet.
I wonder when I will feel like me again. I wonder if the way "me" feels is changed forever.
But here is what I want people to know: I don't care that her body was just a vessel. I miss the fucking vessel. I miss it and I want it back. I don't care that we will have her in our hearts forever. She is too big for my heart. It hurts every day with her all crowded in there. I want her out of there and in the world where I can say more things and go to more movies and laugh more and seek her counsel more.
I know we will tell the stories but I want her grandkids to grow up with her, not the stories about her. I want her husband to not be so unmoored by the loss of his partner that his grief doesn't let him through the grocery store with enough food to sustain him. I want him to not have to berate himself when he calls every woman her name. That name that is supposed to come out of his mouth forever, same as it has for the past 40 years, but there is no one here to receive it, to respond to it.
She should be here. My heart is so sore. My chest feels bruised.
And what I know is that everyone I have ever loved will leave me in this way. And I'm scared to death.
I'm so scared.
4 comments:
Erica, you touch so many people and are such a good soul. I don't want you to be sad or scared. Love can be unforgiving and there is nothing I can do for you, but to tell you that time heals.
I love you
I love you, too.
I really love that you have a HUGE Chucky the rug-rat head in your little picture.
=-)
You told me that you had shifted your blog to some more personal subjects, but you didn't say more than that. Now I see. Your writing is beautiful and poignant. I'm so glad to know you... I'll be reading often, my new friend!
That was so beautful...and so moving. Your love is so strong, thanks for sharing those special, private thoughts.
Post a Comment