My wife is gone. Only 61 and lost to me. Now I have to survive without her, when to follow her seems the easiest and brightest possible path.
But I can’t be that selfish. I won’t allow the weakness and shortcuts to seduce me.
The only way I can do that is through honesty.
So when you ask me how I’m doing, don’t expect a “Fine” as a response. I’m not fine, and it’s okay to not be fine.
What’s not okay is pretending to be fine to avoid making others uncomfortable.
“I’m holding on by my fingernails.”
“I’m a mess.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“All the crying has the migraines back in full strength.”
“I’m lost and rudderless and I don’t even want to get up off the toilet sometimes.”
I’m going to live my truth until my truth moves on, then I’ll live my new truth. It’s been four days. I’ll blink and it’ll be five weeks. I’ll take a walk then it’ll be seven months.
I WILL be fine. Someday.
But today, I’m not fine, so please don’t expect me to say that I am.