Because my wife passed away after eight years of dementia, my mourning has been spread out, but now I am feeling her loss more because I realise she was my anchor in life for forty-one years. I may be adrift in a treacherous and sad world now. I feel utterly alone. Yes, emails, phone calls, and texts do happen, but the intimacy is gone. I am grateful for those contacts.
I restarted my song work, guitar playing, and eclectic studies, which help but can never replace a human hug of encouragement: the embrace of a lover.
I once found it curious when television or movies presented a character who would speak to an urn containing the ashes of a lost loved one. The irony is that I am now one of those characters.
Now that the stress and restrictions of being a full-time caregiver have been lifted, I am getting out on errands, and my walking gait is gradually improving. I feel physically better, my health issues and mental issues are well under control, and going in the right direction.
I do not harbor hate for family and people that let me down, but the lyrics in a song "Little Rock": "You know your daddy told me when I left
Jesus would forgive, but a daddy don't forget." Yes, I forgive, but I do not forget, and I avoid being abused by these people again.
One more day, a day at a time.
JH