The Oddest Things Happen When Our Person Dies

The oddest things happen when our person dies.  The aching pain remains the next day, the day after that and again the day after that, at least through the last 6 weeks, which is where I am at right now.  There have been 42 sunrises and sunsets.  There have been buses taking kids to school on 29 of those days, and I have paid some number of bills over that time.  The universe continues on, the earth continues to rotate, and life, for many, goes on.

One of my three things I am still writing down each morning now includes “say it out loud, she is gone and you are going to be OK.”   Some days I believe myself, and others it is harder to say out loud.  Those hard days, my stomach convulses and I almost feel like I am going to throw up.  Like most things, saying it out loud sounds different than just reading the words, a Brother from another Mother reminded me of that a couple of months ago. 

There is a tension in that sentence, she is gone, and you are going to be OK.  I don’t know how those two things are supposed to live in the same place.  One feels absolute, and the other feels nearly impossible.  And somehow, I am expected to carry both.  In some ways, I want to be OK now, and in others I want time to stop.  

It seems so odd to think about my person, my Beautiful Bride.  It always seemed like wife was sort of a role, versus a presence.  Beautiful Bride for me was always more than just wife, that is such a limiting word, at least in my opinion.  Sure, it encompassed that, but she was also my partner in crime, the one who would still do whiskey shots with me until we were properly polluted. 

She was my closest confidant, my wisest counsel, my best friend, and the one who knew more about me than anyone else ever could or will.  And I knew those things about her, she called me Gorgeous Groom, at least when she wasn’t calling me Smit.  For those who have found the love of their lives, you can probably understand why wife or husband does not fully encompass what your person means to you.  I wish and hope everyone can know what that feels like because it is the most amazing thing ever.  

And every morning, I remind myself, out loud, that she is gone.  I fucking hate that that is on my to do list every day.  The physicists say time does not work the way we think it does.  The past, present, and the future aren’t as separate as they might feel.  Maybe that’s true, maybe it’s not.  But because part of me is still back there, with my person and part of me is here, paying bills and watching the school buses go by, I am not sure which is the truest.