Waking up way too early yesterday I get out of bed to feed the cat. I didn’t need to be anywhere for a few more hours. Climbing back into bed I couldn’t help but remember when I would make Matt come back to bed with me on a Saturday morning and just cuddle with me. I miss the feeling of his arm draped over me.
This morning I woke up with a pillow behind my back and my weighted blanket only over my shoulders. At first, it threw me off then I realized I was just recreating that feeling of safety.
When Matt first died, I could feel him around me all the time. My grandma use to see him when she was not in her right mind. My pastor told me that at the end of life spirits come to help guide the person through and she was most likely seeing Matt.
The day she went into the hospital a month after Matt died, I was so scared that she was going to die and that would have crushed me more than I already was. I am not sure if I would have been able to survive both dying in that short period of time.
She held my hand and asked me over and over if she was going to be okay. I remember praying to God not to let her suffer. Talking to Matt telling him to let her know that I would be okay if she was ready. Touching the rings on my neck feeling him with me.
Since she passed in May I have not felt Matt with me as much. On top of that, I have not dreamed of him. There are days like today that I am not sure what to make of that. Maybe he was only around to help lead her to the other side and now he is really gone.
Maybe he knows that I am okay, and he doesn’t need to be there as much with me. That I am starting to heal so I no longer need to feel him with me on the good days. I ask God for a sign of what I am supposed to do as I struggle with my faith and moving on.
This morning’s reading seemed to be my sign. But still, I can’t help but miss the feeling of his hugs and feel unsure if anyone else will ever make me feel the way he did. There will always be that voice in my head telling me that new love is never going to happen.
As I navigate widowhood, I have realized there will be so many days when I feel joy and happiness like I could do anything. And there will be days that reading someone’s post about losing their husband will set me back for a few days. Will make me question my progress.
This week has been one of those weeks where I wish I had Matt to talk to. To tell someone about my day that could just hug me and kiss my forehead and take away the bad. At the beginning of the week, it could have been anyone that I had and by the end of the week, I longed for what I had lost.
I struggle not to remember the past and stay in the moment. There was so much comfort in being able to feel him near me. Or to wake from a dream. Now I am putting one foot in front of the other as I navigate the next two months.
Knowing that I would give anything to wake up with him next to me. To feel the safety and comfort he brought to my craziness. For now, I put my faith in God that if there is someone else out there for me he will put them in my path. Knowing that he might have already and I was too scared to act on it.
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