Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Letting Go

I've come to realize that the only way to go on living without being debilitated by grief is to let Mark go.  Last year at Christmastime I could have told you what he wanted.  This year, I didn't know.  What new interest would he have discovered?  What new gadget, trend, or sport?  I don't know.  I don't know because Mark is gone.  Just gone.

Every day I wake up and he's not here.  Letting go feels like sawing off a limb in slow motion.  Every single day.  Saw . . . saw . . . saw.  He's not here.  He's not coming back.  He was here and we have great memories, but we're not making new ones with him.  We're making new memories without him.  That hurts like hell.

Every day I go about life the best I can, still weighed down by grief, trying to move on.  Saw . . . saw . . . saw.  I have the sense that people around me expect more of me.

Every day when you get up and enjoy your morning coffee, I'm here slowly sawing off a limb.  You head out to face the day with the buzz of a little caffeine.  I head out to face the day with the pain of the sawing still throbbing.