September 16th would have been our 34th wedding anniversary. September 18th will be two years since Philip’s passing. Both dates give me a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.
Life has certainly moved on and forward. It hasn’t been easy, and as I write this I’m facing a momentous and difficult time. I find myself talking to Philip asking repeatedly for his guidance and his help. I wish I weren’t alone as I face my changing world.
I look about me. Everywhere I look are memories we created, piles of stuff. If I lined every little memento and every piece of furniture it would probably measure a mile. A mile of stuff!
I tell myself it’s just “stuff”; it has no meaning, and after all everything’s replaceable. Right? I sigh because I say the words but my heart doesn’t believe it.
Sometimes I can hold something that he held and I swear I can feel his vibration. Then I hear his pragmatic voice in my ear telling me, “It’s not important, sweetheart. Only you are.” And my eyes fill with tears again.
I find myself looking for him in this house, our home, that he filled with everything my heart ever yearned for…ever dreamt of having. My Philip, my sweet, precious love wanted so much for me. He always wanted to give me more. Oh, my sweet love, what I wouldn’t do to have just you and that matchbox I told you I’d live in with you!
Life has a way of bringing one to reality. My reality has had a massive awakening. Life is about to change drastically and I’m more then a little bit frightened and apprehensive.
A part of me is embarrassed to find myself in this horrible place. I know that is probably silly and a wasted emotion, but nonetheless, it is so. September 16th is another date I shan’t easily forget: it’s the day I will lose my home, our home, and I’m devastated.
I fought the fight as long as I could. There’s no fight left. I have a house full of memories and nowhere to put them. My eyes are swollen from tears and my heart has a new scar.
As I write this I don’t know where I’m going to go, how I’m going to get there, or who is going to help me pack up this mile of “stuff”…or where I will put it
Life. It has a way of creeping up on us when we least expect it. How does the saying go, “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle?” Who came up with this crock? Well, it appears I’m about to test my limit.