It’s so weird when someone passes suddenly. One second they are here, the next, they just aren’t.
In the hours following my husband’s suicide, I found evidence of him everywhere that my mind had a difficult time processing.
His phone was on the end table by his spot on the couch. His glasses were there too.
His big giant plastic mug of ice water that he toted around with him daily was also there, only the ice had melted by then.
But he wasn’t near them.
He no longer had any need for them, even if it had only been mere hours since he had last used those things.
As time passed, I was able to gather up his phone and his glasses, but pouring out his last cup of water proved to be much harder.
I did manage to move the mug into the bedroom, where I could see it.
Many years before, I had read The Hidden Messages in Water by Dr. Masaru Emoto which detailed the idea that water carries memories and a life force all of its own.
I’m not sure that the thought that Bret’s last cup of water was holding on to his memory was the cause for me to hang on to it, but I hung on as long as I could.
I only dumped it out in the space where he used to grow his plants when I moved out of our house, and even then, it was one of the last things I did.
I still have the mug and see it every day in my kitchen as it now serves as a utensil holder of sorts.
Many of Bret’s former belongings still remain with me, and I still sometimes feel that they hold his essence, although I cannot explain how.
Some of his things are next to his urn and others are scattered around. His glasses are with my old pairs, but sadly his phone was stolen.
I have yet to cancel his phone line though. One might think that nearly five years after his departure, I’d be able to, but I’d still probably be holding on to that cup of water if I had been able.
Grief is weird and makes us do all kinds of things that we may have found “crazy” before we were introduced to this life. I have learned not to judge myself for it.
One thing that I would recommend to a new Widow – something that a fellow Widow shared with me right off the bat – is to wrap up some of their clothes in ziplock bags because that helps them to retain their “scent” for longer.
I no longer rush to unzip those bags and catch a whiff, although I certainly have in the past. I am, however, glad I have them there, just in case.
There is just something about recalling his last cup of water though; something about it that hit me in the gut as hard as can be, and still knocks the air out of me sometimes.
I don’t know why that stuck with me the way it did, but I am sure I’ll never forget how I felt the day I finally poured it out.
My eyes spilled their fair share of water that day as well.