This woodstove is in my kitchen.
I spent hours sitting in that chair last winter. After I put my kids to bed the house was so quiet. I sat there and cried some nights hours and hours and hours, wondering what was happening to my life. Trying to deal with confusion that seemed overwhelming and too much to bear at times. Thinking about my husband, missing him in a way that encompassed so many emotions. When I wasn't crying I was off in another world. If you saw me you would see someone who seemed mentally absent. In shock. Even months later I still think my head was stinging from the shock of it all. My God, how could he be my husband one day and then just disappear? Gone? Without a word. Without me with him. How could I have seen my husband with no life in his body. How? How can he not be walking through the door again? How can all of the plans we made be meaningless? How do I deal with the fact that I will never see his face again? That I will never hear his voice? That he is no longer with me?
I remember one night feeling really true deep pain and mental anguish. It was a friday night, I remember because for a long time Friday nights were hard for me because that was our "special" night. The silence in my house was piercing that night. I laid down on the floor in the kitchen and prayed for someone to walk through the door and take my pain away. That thought is so out of the realm of normal for me. I knew that it was not rational, not possible, not happening. That was a terrible, dark, lonely night. There were a bunch of those.
I am writing this post because I have no idea what it means to "move on", "move forward", "get better", "deal with it", "get over", "make peace with" etc. There is no gauge to tell me if I am getting better or dealing with things and the pain is still deep and sharp and intensely sad. But I know that I don't sit for hours in that chair anymore. And although I do sit there, my thoughts are more of "what am I going to do now?" (in itself an overwhelming question), and less of the reflection of the hurtful past and the events that unfolded. There really is no sense in what happened. It took me a long time just to figure that out. No answers to the questions, no gain for going through the details. It just happened.