Loss

The finality, the emptiness and the loss of identity that death leaves in it's wake, is something that you can't shirk off or walk away from. I'm suddenly not a wife anymore.

I have zero marriage jokes to crack and no comments to pass when someone talks about their respective partner. "At least they have someone", is the only thought that comes into my head. 

This year of grief, the second year to be exact, is where I grieve the person I used to be. Somewhere between trying to juggle work, baby and this new life sans a husband, I've lost my sense of self.

I'm no longer chatty, I'm no longer confident and I'm always a little sad. There's nothing like a good cry last thing at night. And there's no shame in admitting to this. Crying is the best way to get it out of your system.

Cry for the life you once had and can never have again. Cry for feeling so alone. Cry, for all the moments in the day when something reminded you, of your person in heaven.

Who knows if time heals wounds. Who knows if crying heals anything. All I can say with sureity is, life is fragile.

I said goodbye to my husband as he left for work in the morning and brought back his motionless body at night. He was 35. 

The shock and the disbelief that life as I knew it, had forever ended is something I'll probably never snap out of. So at 34, with a 2 year old in toe, I moved back to my parental home.

We will be okay.. eventually. Today is not that day.