Tomorrow is 7 months since G’s gone. Another month of denial. But I can’t help it. He isn’t there in person, but his presence never leaves me. When something happens, I still pick up the phone to tell him about it. When the doorbell rings early morning I for a moment think that he’s perhaps back from one of his trips. When I sleep I turn occasionally to hug him. None of this is ever going to happen. But sometimes I see him smiling at me, sometimes we are just lying in bed talking, sometimes he’s experimenting in the kitchen and shooing me out.
There are memories everywhere! Some are good, some are bad, almost all make me cry. And now that my niece is gone – my one distraction these past 10 days – i’ll have some more time to brood over them.
It’s hard to let go. To accept that he’s gone. I can say it. I know it to be a fact. I saw him lying there – cold. But in my heart I cannot accept it. It’s still a bad dream and I will get up soon. And then all this grief will vanish because we’ll be back again doing what we did, living our lives, being normal people with no cares in the world. Perhaps that first IVF would work too and we’ll be on our way with a baby.
I don’t know why but somehow I am reminded of that scene in Game of Thrones. When Daenerys Targaryen sees her dead husband and child in the House of the Undying. Though it’s just fiction, it’s terrible temptation. I would have stayed there forever if that meant G would be around even in a mirage. Or do I kid myself? Is it really possible for people to leave the past and move on? How is that done?
Tomorrow it’s 7 months, and then it will be 8, 9,…. a year. When will I stop expecting this to be a dream?
A friend gave me some advice today – “Some days you have to create your own sunshine”. Well, a ray of sunshine takes a lot of burning; I don’t think I have energy enough. Maybe you could lend me some?