Pretend

During this grief process I’ve felt many times that I’m pretending to be alive, pretending to participate in life. I’ve spoken with other widowed people and this is not unusual, to feel like a robot watching the humans live their lives. What I want most I will never get on this plane of existence. I want to see my husband one more time, and it’s just not going to happen. I pretend not to be angry, but I am, and that anger is rooted deep, deep in my heart and soul. Angry at God, angry at my M. for dying (how dysfunctional is that?), angry at myself for not taking better care of him so he’d be here with me today.

So I talk to my counselor, go to my grief group, and write letters to my husband every day. Grief is a process, and it’s just plain awful.  I will not pretend that it’s easy. But for now I will pretend to believe others who say there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  I’ll believe that they believe and that has to be enough for today.

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