5th November 2018
When…
When will I really “get” that Mike is dead?
When will the knowing finally sink in?
When will the remembering not punch me full force in the gut? As if I didn’t already know.
When will the pavement not open up with a chasmic (?) hole as I wander innocently about my day?
When will Mike’s email, with his smiling face in the Gmail icon, stop being the first one to come up when I send something off my phone?
When will the transition time from joy to grief stop being less than a millisecond?
When will the crushing loneliness in my present and for my future stop gripping me in its vice-like hold?
So many moments each and every day
Swings and roundabouts and see-saws and rollercoasters
I have been on a high
At my Camp Widow convention of 200 widows this past weekend
Learning, living, laughing, crying, dancing
I scroll through photos on facebook
There’s a lovely one of me dancing, looking happy, grinning from ear to ear, the smile really reaching my eyes as well as my ears
I genuinely look good
It makes me smile to see me looking good
I click on the next photo… it’s Mike, looking at me warmly, lovingly, admiringly
Our last ski holiday
Pure love in his gaze
I crumple
I crumble
I collapse
Floored
My mind boggles
I shake my head as would a cat shaking off the rain
I don’t get it
I simply cannot comprehend
Still not
Not 18 months ago
Not 18 weeks ago
Not 18 days ago
Not 18 minutes ago
Not 18 seconds ago
Still not
The shock and the horror of it all is more than I can conceive of
Life as I know it eclipsed
