Sunday, February 1, 2009


The memorial service magnified my grief.

It has been so intense since then. I woke up Saturday morning and felt heavy, heavy, and sullen and so, so, terribly sad. The words grief and sorrow now mean something to me. And now tears come even when I'm not thinking of him. They used to come when I would think of him in heaven... or of our time together. But now they come when I don't expect them. Sunday morning was terrible, too. Trying to hold it all together while I'm around people. I couldn't do it. I cried and cried and cried. I can't imagine how his sweet mother feels.

When I'm not buried underneath all of that, I feel absolutely nothing at all. I can still smile. I can still laugh. But I truly feel incapable of any emotion. And that's why I feel I have to stop dating this wonderful man that I have been seeing. I couldn't ask him to stick around for this ridiculousness. I feel completely emotionally bankrupt. I know he is wonderful. But I can't give him 100%.

Here is what I need: I need my dear, dear friends to know Rob. No one I know now really knows him. And it makes me incredibly sad. I want to show them pictures and I want to play the music we played at our wedding. And I want to make his delicious chili. I want to tell stories about him and to try to remember what we did. I want to remember everything.

Here is what I want: I want to go with Rob's brother and his best friends when they take his ashes to the top of Long's Peak. I don't know if they will let me. But if they don't, then I will go there myself and sit and speak with him and tell him goodbye.


Mya said...

make his chili, and then get on skype and tell me a story about Rob while you eat it.

Miss Ash said...

I think talking about him is exactly what you SHOULD do.

You will get through this... albeit a changed woman. But you're beautiful, and you have a good canvas to work with.

I'm glad I found you again.