It Doesn't Really Get Better

I want to scream and throw things. Screaming alone doesn't help all that much.

When a husband dies, it is not like other relatives dying. My mother died when I was 30; my father died 10 months later when I was 31. I was sad. I felt abandoned and alone, but I was not lonely for them as I am for Ron.

Losing the one person in the whole world who loves and accepts you just the way you are is at times unbearable. I'll hang in, and I'll be fine, but getting there is a passage that only another woman whose husband has died can understand. Each person's story is different, but if the marriage was good and there was love and contentment, those of us left behind know what it's like.

I miss Ron so much. The extreme longing comes in waves. I might not feel it for a couple of days, then I have a couple of days where I am ambushed every hour on the hour.