It has been a decade since my husband died. I had wanted to write something in memorium of his loss to me and my family. But I can’t. The words won’t come. Through many tries and aborted efforts, it has all come to naught. The closer to the heart, the deeper the pain, the less there is to say.
How do you explain the width and depth of anguish and loss when speaking of a husband and father? The chasm created by his loss is larger than the Grand Canyon and there is no bottom for its depth. How do you explain the emptiness of family weddings with a missing family member? What does one write to explain a future of twenty or thirty years compressed into four. Where are the words to describe what holidays are like without him there.
How are you supposed to pull out the pain for yet another look-see and then put it away again. I know my body pays for the agony and grief stored inside my being. Experts, those with degrees and without loss, would tell me to put it behind me and go on with my life. I have to the best of my ability as have our children, but for me I have adapted as much as I ever will. I will live each day to its fullest, but for me the “fullest” is only about eighty per cent. This one man who captured my heart still holds it in his hands. It will never open to another.
Of the approximate 155,000 people who die daily world-wide, there are 155,000 families who are left grief-stricken dealing with the ins and outs of living, coping as they best know how. We don’t all have the nation behind us like those of 9/11 which also marks its tenth anniversary this year. We remember alone, we talk with other family catching up on what’s current all the while with an unspoken reminder for each other that we haven’t forgotten and that we love each other.
My children, I ache for your loss; my grandchildren, you will never know or understand that this man would have loved you with all his heart and bragged about you to anyone who came near him. To those he worked with, I understand your loss; we, his family, live with it daily. To all those 150,000 families, we know what it is to lose and lose greatly.