Why is it some days I can think about him and I’m just fine. In fact most days I do OK now. I make it through the day, I don’t leak, I can talk about him with someone who asks, and I’m fine. I breathe, I talk and I do OK.
This morning, I’m driving into town and I look at his photo I have at the top left corner of my windshield. It’s tucked in the molding and it cannot fly away when I open the door of my car.
I looked at this photo. And suddenly, all I can see is us in the doctor’s office hearing the news, looking at each other, holding hands like we are holding on to each other for dear life, the chemo treatments, the radiation treatments, holding him on the sofa, me sitting in my living room, looking at the big window, with him in the bed………….the funeral.
…….and later after that bed was torn down and taken back to the hospice care unit. Me, standing in that spot screaming because the images would not leave my head. Just as they are doing today. I couldn’t breathe, the tears started to flow, the pain in my heart made it want to burst…………
At least today I am not screaming.
Must be an improvement.