Wednesday, February 3, 2016


I awoke this morning and something felt different.

My first moments in bed were the same as yesterday and the day before, and the day before, and the 64 days before those, when slumber slowly fades, in the room by then bright with morning light, and then, with clarity, I remember.

Sometimes I shed tears before I make myself get out of bed, sometimes they come over coffee.  Still, always, they come.  

I realized, plotting the first few hours of this day, that I am beginning to live a life which feels like my life, despite the good fight I'm waging for him to miraculously return.  Inevitable corners turned, I'm defining new routines and patterns that are mine, not ours.  I keep the car key with its panic button by the bed, the tapestry tote bag now holds plastic bags within reach, and dinner might be oyster soup three nights in a row.

My new normal.  

One day joy will return to my life, I know it will, but it wasn't today and I doubt it will be tomorrow or the day after, or the day after those ...  


1 comment:

  1. You spread so much joy... you are always in my prayers, my dearest friend...