sitting one love across from the other.
Feet touching on the edges of the couches
where they meet in the corner.
Moments of conversation and sideways grins
while sips of warm black liquid are taken.
A hand reaching over to touch the other
ever so gently and warmly.
A cute giggle out of such a burly
man when something funny is said.
Whispers into the pillow late at night
while the rest of the world sleeps.
Moments of silence between two souls who
look deep into the other's eyes.
Understanding of a love like no other when
not one word has to be spoken to know.
Youth fading into middle-age, wrinkles and
extra pounds coming.
But loving just as much as the day they first met
over a phone call on an October evening.
Date nights spent staring into each other's eyes
as much as the teenagers around them.
Midnight snuggles on cold winter nights
when they should be sleeping instead.
Long talks of dreams and plans as cows graze
in the fields below and the trees dance.
Plans and hopes and promises made to withstand
all tests of time.
A head gently tilted to rest on a strong shoulder
that makes her feel safe every day.
They were in love.
She was safe.
They had each other.
Her son had a daddy.
Her heart had its other half.
Life was complete.
The world was as it should be.
It's a Different World...
Early morning cups of coffee taken alone
while she stares at his picture and flag on the mantle.
Feet curled in under the blanket while she feels
cold in the loneliness of her home.
Silence remains, and speaks stronger than any
giggle or conversation they used to share.
Her hand is alone, empty of his, her wedding ring
changed sizes and fingers, but on the same hand.
A tear instead of a giggle, at the memory of
something funny he used to say.
Whispers into the pillow late at night,
begging for peace and mercy from God.
Her eyes stay closed as she squeezes them tight
trying to block out the pain that keeps her awake.
She still knows there will never be a love
like theirs was.
Her youth is still fading and she feels more aged,
more wrinkled, and weary and heavy-laden.
And she loves him still just as much as she did
on that phone call one October evening.
Date nights are now just her and their son,
watching dads and kids and trying not to.
Midnight wakings because she dreams of him,
when she should be sleeping.
She doesn't talk about dreams anymore
knowing it will do her no good.
She is afraid to have any kind of hopes or dreams
anymore; she can't let go of the old ones.
She misses his shoulder to lean on, she misses
feeling safe and protected.
She is still in love with a ghost.
She doesn't feel safe anymore.
She has no one who understands.
No one to talk to.
Laugh with.
Love with.
Hold onto.
Promise the world to.
Her son struggles daily.
And she can't fix it.
She can't take it all back.
She can't carry it alone.
But she has to.
So she prays.
and she prays...
and she prays...
And she is grateful.
Grateful to friends.
To family.
But she is still alone.
At the end of the day.
When she climbs into bed.
When she picks up the phone to dial.
She is alone.
Her other half is gone.
Her best friend is gone.
Her knight in shining armor is gone.
And so is her heart.
Please don't ever judge a widow or widower, or a child without a parent. I have a friend who was widowed several years ago. I apologized to her tonight for not being there for her in her early days all those years ago. I never understood all the thoughts and demons she has fought all these years. Not until they became my constant companions as well.
I miss him. More than my family can understand. More than my friends and co-workers can understand. More than even I can understand at times.
Life has to move forward, but no one realizes how truly difficult it is to accept that truth.
I just miss him. So. Much.
I will now, forever, and always be #stillhis...
I love you and miss you baby. I hope you feel my love all the way to Heaven.
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