The night Adrian left this world, I came home to an empty house. I could not sleep and found myself mindlessly pacing up and down the house until morning came. I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for. Although I knew he would never come back home, I wanted to find him in any dark corner of every room. I found him in the smell of his of clothes in the closet. I found him in the living room, as I remembered when he painted the walls that chocolate-brown color he loved. He was everywhere, and yet he was not home anymore.
I lay in bed that night with my eyes full of tears, my head full of thoughts and a broken heart. It was too soon for me to understand that insomnia would be my new normal for the next 2 years. There was no place for me in our bed that night. It felt empty and foreign. I felt lost. Where was I? For the next several nights I caught fleeting moments of sleep on the living room couch. But that also felt unnatural, so eventually, I forced myself to go back to our bed. My bed. Mine alone now. He was no longer here to share that bed with me.
The first night I slept in the bed alone, a stripped naked and crawled into Adrian’s side of the bed. It was a desperate attempt at feeling his embrace one last time, and I cried into his pillow. The smell of his pillow was strong – beautiful, just like he was. For months I could not bring myself to wash the bedding because it was the only way I had to feel close to him. I refused to simply wash him away.
Two years. That is how long Adrian has been gone. Two years. That is how long I’ve slept in his side of the bed. I suppose I should have known that assuming his side of the bed came with more responsibilities. While I was trying to find him, I have found ways to become more like him. I have to admit that as difficult as it has been, I have reluctantly accepted life’s challenge to take on Adrian’s role. Life has forced me to become the head of the household, a plumber, a gardener, and a carpenter. Even in his absence, I have become his apprentice. Although he is no longer here, perhaps his side of the bed somehow brought him close to me.
On many occasions I have reached over to my (former) side of the bed in a useless attempt to find Adrian. It is a silly feat because, not only am I reaching to the wrong side, but he is just not there. But I reach out anyway, searching for him, and I swear I feel him sometimes. I feel his energy, and I know in my heart, it is him – reassuring me.
Last night, I spoke to Adrian in the dark. I turned to my former side of the bed and tried to touch him. Of course, I didn’t find him. Instead, I found myself. So I tried to comfort the Jessica who is still lost, confused and worn down. I tried to reassure the Jessica who still, after two years, can’t imagine a life without Adrian. I reached my hand out and touched her hair and wiped away her tears. I promised her we were going to be OK. I asked her to look at how far we’d come. I reminded her that Adrian would be so proud of us for not giving up, and assured her we were going to make it. Together. And although I could still see fear in her eyes, I could tell that she trusted me.
About Jessica Ayala
Jessica’s life was shattered in March of 2017 when her healthy and athletic husband suddenly and unexpectedly passed away at the age of 44. Jessica became a widow at the age of 36.
Through grieving eyes, Jessica has become aware of the huge disconnect there is between the reality of grief, versus what others believe it should be. This has motivated her to share her story and hopes that by doing so, it may create a “safe space” for someone – anyone who might relate or who shares similar experiences. It took her so long to understand that she was not going crazy in the months after her loss, and hopes that she might help a reader understand the same thing: You are NOT going crazy. This is grief.
I just read your story. Although we are hundreds of kilometers away from each and we lived in different continents I had the same feelings and reaction after the loss of my dear husband 16 months ago. To night i swear he was at mt side touching me and reassuring me that everything is going to be ok ,that he still needs me. I woke up to find an empty bed but i still somehow feel his loving touch on me.I try to keep him alive through the trade he loved so much and taught meand our daughter to do. Everytime I pick his tools I cry. He left such a beautiful legacy behind him.yet I miss himm so much annd want him more each day. Sometimes I think it is just a bad dream and he will return. Things that he liked became my favourites even though I never liked them before he left. Am Imtrying to make him live in me? I look for him every where even on a chair in restaurants that we used to go to..everything reminds me of him and want to speak about him all the time. It is still a heartache and time hasnot healed anything yet.
Isn’t odd, how we pick up all our person’s “favorites”? And maybe you do want him to live through you – is it possible he might have liked that too? For his legacy and all his “favorites” to continue through you and your daughter as a reminder of the deep love you had – HAVE- as a family? Sending you a big hug. Thank you for sharing.
My husband also died at age 44. I was 40. Difference was he had been suffering with cancer for 7 years and also was military so had been away for months at a time. I had 4 children to keep me busy. Was very hard in different ways. No matter the circumstances the pain is real.
Thank you for sharing. I can’t imagine having to go through this with little ones involved. It must be extremely difficult. Sending you warm thoughts and hope for bright skies.
I know exactly how you feel…I could have written this article!! I just recently was able to sleep on “his” side of the bed, ironically it was in a strange bed while vacationing with my daughter. I then came home and was able to sleep on “his side”. It felt strange but I actually slept well….well as well as you can after you lose the love of your life. I, too, am adjusting to the workload…he was always the one who fixed things and knew everything about all the intricacies of running our home. I increasingly did more and more as his heart became more and more weak towards the last few years of his life but I had no idea how much I leaned on him and all his knowledge and strength. I pray every day to take a deep breath and be able to just survive day to day. My husband has only been gone 6 months……the future is very frightening to me as I try to decide my path without him…….
There are times when all our energy goes into just surviving one more day. I hope you know that this is ok. For the first several months it hurt to get out of bed. It even hurt to shower. And there are days when it still does. In my own journey, I found that it was ok to not be ok. Was I going crazy? Maybe. But what else could be expected after such crippling trauma? Thank you for sharing. Sending warm hugs.
Omg it was like you were telling my story word for word. Herman left March 1, 2015.I came home from work and found him in his lounge chair eyes open glasses on gone I got him on the floor gave CPR till they got her but nothing , my not sick 60 year old beautiful husband was gone no reason why. He had just left our daughter’s house where she had the grandkids birthday party, she said he was fine I even talked to him before he left. My life has changed in so many ways eleven days after I was diagnosed with breast cancer had to go thru chemo and radiation treatments with out him then nov2018 had female cancer and had a hysterectomy in Jan. I get where your coming from “I’m not me anymore without him”
I’m so sorry. Thank you for sharing. I cannot imagine going through that after such terrible loss. I know we are not alone, but it feels devastatingly lonely altogether. No longer having our rock to lean on. And although we will never be the same, I like to think that our person is proud of us – maybe proud of who we are in-spite of our loss. Sending a big hug your way.
Thank you for this Jessica,
I so get were you are coming from, I sleep on Hutch’s side of the bed. It’s been a becoming for me. Hutch passed away January 2nd 2017. Being half a same sex couple I began wearing his shoes, his socks and anything that would fit my smaller frame of 5’11” 140 lbs frame as compared to his 6′ 3″ 195 lbs frame…I drive his truck, I use his tools. Anything I can hold onto. I know I’ve came a long way in 28 months….it’s still a place that is foreign to me. I know he’s proud of me and I know I still have a long way to go…I go with him in my heart, if there’s a tie to be worn it’s one of his favorites…I’m learning to navigate my life forward with everything I can carry.
I was raking the yard to day…Hutch was one of those people that waved at everybody that made Eye contact with him in passing…I would be the one to avert my eyes to the ground…and get pissy with him drawing everybody’s attention…today a school bus passed me and I smiled and waved…with the biggest grin on my face….He would be proud of me….and he’d probably cajole me about wearing his clothes…as he did when he was beside me….he’d say something along the lines of nice shirt Mac, or where did you get that shirt?…my reply was one he appreciated…”I got it out of the dryer” I’ll never stop missing him or appreciating his uniqueness in this world.
#God’sPeace, #Namaste
Thank you for sharing. I know in my heart he is so proud of you for the way you honor him. Waving at the school bus was probably no easy feat, but I’m sure it made your heart smile thinking of Hutch. I like to think that those fleeting moments of joy are our boys reassuring us, telling us they are with us and we will be ok.
I couldn’t have said it better, “I’m learning to navigate my life forward with everything I can carry.” This is so true. We may be stepping into our uncharted territory, but maybe we are being guided by our boys- Maybe? And I’ll take that any day. Sending you a very big hug.
P.S: I have set aside a few of my husband’s favorite shirts and will have them sized to fit me. I too love wearing his favorite items.