Kiss At Midnight

December 30, 2009 by  
Filed under Blog

There is overwhelming silence when you live alone. It’s hard to conceive that I am 53 and living alone for the first time. I lived with my parents until I got married at 19. I became a mom at 22. Extremely uncomfortable and unbalanced with silence, I became the social director for my family and consistently filled our home with friends and laughter.

It has now been 376 days since my husband passed away. I miss him more than words can describe. I continue to experience such a range of emotions not having his arms and legs wrapped around me when I go to sleep. Waking up alone each and every morning only reinforces the reality that he is truly gone.

Each night snuggled securely in each other’s arms, we could be intensely intimate through touch, even without making love. Touch can offer a climax of passion that begins deep within your heart. I still find myself aching with raw emotions, reaching to retain the memory of his body against mine. There are times when I open the bathroom cabinet and the smell of my husband’s cologne is so strong it overwhelms me. With the smell of his presence, I close my eyes and hold him close.

The adjustment of traveling this journey alone has been terrifying. I know I have the choice to either make this transition move forward or settle and remain captive in my grief. There are days when the sadness overpowers me. The end of last year was spent existing in shock. Numbness and indifference pushed me through the year. I had moments when I felt somewhat confident yet they were gone as quickly as they came.

Now the end of the year is almost here. On New Years Eve I will be alone for the countdown. Even though I won’t feel my husband’s kiss at midnight, my soul will know he is there. I cherish the years we had together in this life and the love we shared.

When we look back at this year, what memories will we think about? What will we treasure the most?

What will I take forward with me, from this year filled with moments without my husband?

I will treasure memories of my family and friends, always there for me when I didn’t have the strength nor desire to stand on my own. Memories of honoring my husband by trying to do the best I could without him. Memories of hope.

Always treasure your special memories. Happy New Year.


Changing Seasons

December 5, 2009 by  
Filed under Blog

Changing seasons bring different meaning to mind. For me, cold weather means beans and cornbread made from a cast iron skillet. TV off, music on, and drinks in front of a warm fire. My husband and I used to build fires, turning out all the lights, and laying on the floor with blankets and pillows. No glamorous glitzy evening out on the town could compare with the magical evenings we shared without leaving our home.

There was a time when we bought a tree-filled building lot in the hill country of Texas. My husband promptly purchased a chainsaw and meticulously cut down the trees into stacks and stacks of firewood and cedar posts. Then situations changed, the lot and cedar posts were sold, and the firewood moved with us, twice.

Changing seasons now brings different meaning to me. Building a fire is so different. The routine of TV off, music on, and drinks in front of a warm fire continue. However now I sit the pillow on the floor and my husband is no longer by my side. He has received the gift of Eternal Life and now watches over me as my Guardian Angel.

There are days where I live in the past. I put myself back in situations that brought us happiness. Doing so produces aggressive tidal waves of emotionality. I reach for strength from deep within my soul. At times I feel like I do not exist so I try to focus…

“Live as though heaven is on earth.” – Alfred Souza