To My Hubby,
I miss you every second of every hour of every day. I am lost this summer without you. I think of all the times we would take walks holding hands around our neighborhood. Of our weekly summer outings to the lakefront, nature centers and parks. I still see you sitting outside in our garden on the hottest days with the heat never bothering you. I still think you will walk through the front door coming in from a run, all sweaty and chasing me around the house for a kiss and hug. I hug my memories of us. Still mostly with tears, often with smiles and always with thankfulness for the time we had together. Happy Birthday my Dear Love.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Monday, December 3, 2012
BUBBLE OF NUMB
64 days after my husband, Larry, drew his last breath, I am again in my Bubble of Numb. I seem to stay here quite often. Emotionless and just existing. Able to do what I need to do and no more.
Getting the phone call that my Aunt had died created an even bigger Bubble. She was my last living Aunt. Always so full of life, smiles and hearty laughter. I will always have that memory of her. Yet I wonder if I will ever be able to feel that memory or other memories again.
My mind is a constant deluge of video memories that seem so far away. I can see them but not feel them. I have always liked to feel my memories. Put myself back to its occurance and actually remember how it felt, then store it away for another retrieval some day. Especially Hugs. They are my favorite memories. The softness or hardness or tightness. The height and built of the other hugger. Will I ever be able to retrieve again?
Driving out to My Aunt Catherine's wake was reliving a drive I had taken thousands of times.
A woosh of memories seemed to be hitting my bubble while I drove. I could sense they were there but could not see them. Driving Lake Shore Drive after picking up my daughter to 94East-woosh. Driving Route 394 another woosh. Turning off on Steger Rd. another woosh. Entering the town of Steger where I grew up -woosh. Passing by my childhood home an even bigger woosh of memories bouncing off my bubble. No tears, only numbness.
I was asked how I was able to take the drive, how I was able to be at the wake. I knew I had to say goodbye to my Aunt and would regret not going.
It is impossible for anyone, including myself, to really understand my Bubble of Numb.
Getting the phone call that my Aunt had died created an even bigger Bubble. She was my last living Aunt. Always so full of life, smiles and hearty laughter. I will always have that memory of her. Yet I wonder if I will ever be able to feel that memory or other memories again.
My mind is a constant deluge of video memories that seem so far away. I can see them but not feel them. I have always liked to feel my memories. Put myself back to its occurance and actually remember how it felt, then store it away for another retrieval some day. Especially Hugs. They are my favorite memories. The softness or hardness or tightness. The height and built of the other hugger. Will I ever be able to retrieve again?
Driving out to My Aunt Catherine's wake was reliving a drive I had taken thousands of times.
A woosh of memories seemed to be hitting my bubble while I drove. I could sense they were there but could not see them. Driving Lake Shore Drive after picking up my daughter to 94East-woosh. Driving Route 394 another woosh. Turning off on Steger Rd. another woosh. Entering the town of Steger where I grew up -woosh. Passing by my childhood home an even bigger woosh of memories bouncing off my bubble. No tears, only numbness.
I was asked how I was able to take the drive, how I was able to be at the wake. I knew I had to say goodbye to my Aunt and would regret not going.
It is impossible for anyone, including myself, to really understand my Bubble of Numb.
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