The Hard Part

Last night, exhausted from two days of unrelenting migraine and other pain, I sat on the edge of the bed, swallowed a couple of Tylenol PM, and muttered aloud, “I just want to sleep.” My eyes fell on Mike’s picture, smiling at me from beside the urn on a shelf, and I said to him, “Oh honey, sometimes I just want to sleep and not wake up. I want to sleep and wake up in your arms.”

That triggered tears, deep wrenching sobs, and a couple of thoughts. Maybe it’s good that I’m not sure if there’s an afterlife; if I was certain I’d wake up on the other side and be with Mike, that bottle of pills would have been a whole lot more tempting. And maybe, I thought, this is why Mike hasn’t visited me in my dreams for so long — because I have to learn to live in this world, without him.

I keep thinking I’ve gotten through the hardest part of this grief, only to find another hard part still ahead. This is a hard part right now, this pushing forward day after day, trying to find a job and buy a car and get on with the business of living when I feel so tired, so heavy… It’s like the grief is quicksand sucking at my ankles. Sometimes I get so tired, I just want to lay down and let it swallow me whole.

But Mike was in my dreams again last night, for the first time in months. We talked while he worked on a sculpture, and I don’t think there was anything particularly significant about our conversation. It was just the easy, comfortable talk of two people sharing their life together, as if we’d never been apart. When I woke up, the feeling of being with him was so strong, I didn’t want to stir for fear of disturbing it. I lay in bed with my arm stretched across the pillow, remembering how it felt to rest my arm on his bare chest and the way he’d hold onto my arm as we fell asleep.

The hardest part about today was making myself get out of bed and face another day without my love.

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~ by hourbeforedawn on November 5, 2010.

2 Responses to “The Hard Part”

  1. Hon—-I hear you. Keep being honest like this and you’ll survive. Being in LA again sounds hard, but good. I asked Willa what she wants to say to you and she gave me a big strong baby hug – so here it is!

  2. Lots and lots and lots of love for you. Just keep moving forward through the quicksand. Eventually, the hard parts will get further apart, and something good will happen. (((Lira)))

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