And another thing

All of the people telling me my husband is with me in spirit, or he's always there in my memories, or he's in Heaven watching over me, and say they hope that comforts me.

You know, I appreciate the sentiment, and I really do appreciate that you are all trying to comfort me, and say something that will be helpful and healing and kind. And I will always graciously accept the thought and thank you for it and mean it. I really and truly do feel thankful for you, for any words you have for me at this time. Thank you.

But really? That is not in the least comforting. Not even a little. I know this is grief speaking, and it probably makes me grumpy and angry. (Well yes, for sure it does.) Yes, he's with me in spirit. Yes, his memory is always with me. I don't want to sit here with memories, I want to sit here with my husband. I want to put my arms around him, I want to cuddle up next to him, I want to kiss him on the cheek or feel him come up behind me and wrap me up in a big hug. Yes, he will always be a part of me, but knowing that doesn't fill the void that his physical presence left. It doesn't make my stomach stop hurting, it doesn't help me feel comforted in the face of panic attacks and convulsive sobbing.

And I don't even know how I feel about the afterlife concept. I know my husband didn't believe in it at all. His goal to live each day as completely as he could was based in his belief that this life is all you get, once it ends that's that, so to speak, so you should make the best of the time you have on Earth.

I'd love to think he's gone on to a new experience. I'd love to think he's waiting for me and one day I'll join him. My pagan / spiritual / eclectic new agey world view really wants to hold on to the belief that a person does have a 'soul' and that the essence of being goes on after physical death. But it's unknowable. I can see now, more than ever, why people need to be comforted by religious beliefs. Hell, I can see why people go to psychics and try to make contact with the other side... it's too hard to let go. You want there to be some tiny little spark of hope that life is eternal and your loved one is there, that their consciousness is there, the awareness and personality is still there, just in different form. You want to know that you will be reunited with them. The alternative is unbearable.

Today was just another bad day. Filed for his Social Security death benefit, (just the single payment, I am too young to receive spouse benefits) then I came home, crawled under his bathrobe, and have spent most of the time I wasn't trying to sleep crying or eating cookies.

Still the well wishers send me their prayers, and their hope that I'm doing okay. Maybe someday I will be. Not yet.