The line between what is and what was. It is more of a tightrope, that often at this hour starts to fray.
My sailor, soared last August. He was a young, bright, tenacious man, who left this planet at 40. I am 41 and still trying to figure out how to navigate this life without him. What was, was beautiful, because he stepped in and showed me what love was. What was, was trusting, because despite our struggles, the strength of his embrace always made everything okay. He was my husband, my love, and my caretaker. There are of course questions that I may never know the answer to, the whys of the timing, and the wishing for lost dreams, the loss of the hope that we might have been able to heal together, somehow as things were just seeming to get a little brighter, when he died. He'd said before he'd left the house that morning, that he'd come back to me... and in many ways he did. From the first call of the seagulls in the morning, until the soft lullaby of my playlist at night...The physical absence of him is at times excruciating. So much so, that I long to know a love so deep once more someday. Yet that in itself still feels like a betrayal. How cruel life is, to have left me floundering around without my anchor here to ground me, to make me wish for something I cannot physically have, yet suddenly, now when he's gone, be able to do more. Yet how beautiful is it that I understand that I am not just meant to fade away, heck I'll probably live to be at least into my 80 and I know that in his own way, he's still got me.
My heart is one that attaches easily, once it knows something, so my hope is that I can settle into a life that will someday allow me someone else who loves fiercely and understands the depths of both my connection to my sailor and the pain of my loss. That it will be only the sting of the betrayal that will fade. Life is but a fractured fairy tale, and so for now I walk, stumble, and get back up, time and time again, no matter how thin the line is, the truth is the love we had for one another, is evidenced by the depths of the grief that remains. For grief is simply unspent love.
So heartbreakingly beautiful. I, too, had a great love and an anchor and a soft place to fall. And he went out one day and didn't return to me alive and I have felt untethered and adrift since. I like how you connect that having the deep love hopefully prepares you for another one, one day. I hope so too.
Thank you. for this sweet reply. It is definitely exhausting trying to figure out life without him. Blessings to you on your journey.
It's beautiful how you express your love and grief for your sailor. I also feel the weight of that unspent love.... So many dreams and plans together, watching each other become older. I am 41 and my love was 43.
We said goodbye one morning before a 5 days trip. My love embraced me and said "don't ever leave me", but then I was the one that was left behind. I have been blessed with every single minute I could spent with my love and the courage and inspiration my love gave me to live a purposeful life. Like your sailor, my partner felt like my anchor.