Nothing can make you think about your own mortality or the fact that despite that hope of your childhood that you are, indeed, not immortal, as when your spouse dies, especially when she has been a life partner for, well, your whole adult life.
I’m having a hard time concentrating on anything else — well, no, not as much as the fact I am susceptible to death, as where do I go from here and even more so, the memories of her — all kinds of memories — her problems, our problems, her hopes and dreams and her disappointments and fears and triumphs and failures or my failures to her.
And there is that terrible sad feeling that I can do no more for her. I have to leave her in the hands of a higher power — to eternity.
I am guilt ridden when I try to feel sorry for myself, for my loss.
Of course the nagging question arises whether I could have done more for her when she was alive. While I don’t think I could have, that does not absolve me of my guilt feelings, because then I have to ask: why not?
I’m going to try to move beyond this and blog about my usual — current events, life happenings in general. We sometimes talked about what would happen if or when the other dies. She wanted me to go on and enjoy what I could and not simply sit and drown in sorrow.
We had just shy of 43 years together and I will not simply lie and say it was all bliss, but I will tell you the plain truth — it sure beat this.
I hope to be back to my normal blogging soon — very soon, maybe even later today, or not, but for now I need to think……