Time Keeps Flowing Like a River
I spent some time yesterday reading old texts, still on my phone, that my late husband and I had sent to each other.
Nothing special, just ordinary conversations about the kids, work, life, upcoming events, and the usual chit chat between married couples.
I read for quite a while, and then it hit me, I wasn't crying or feeling sad, instead it felt like a big hug from him, and then I knew something had changed.
For I wasn't mourning the loss, but remembering the mutual feelings and steadiness of our life together.
I was able to see them in a different light and realize new things about my husband's patience, steadiness, and his love for me.
We thought we'd have many more texts, and so the testimony they were conveying never stood out.
But every "Got to work safe," "See you tonight," "Can't wait until tomorrow" speaks of love and companionship that was easy to take for granted when living in the moment.
I will still mourn those days that will not end completely, but time is moving on, and with perspective, I can learn to be more appreciative of what we had instead of holding on to the bitterness of what I lost.
Nothing special, just ordinary conversations about the kids, work, life, upcoming events, and the usual chit chat between married couples.
I read for quite a while, and then it hit me, I wasn't crying or feeling sad, instead it felt like a big hug from him, and then I knew something had changed.
For I wasn't mourning the loss, but remembering the mutual feelings and steadiness of our life together.
I was able to see them in a different light and realize new things about my husband's patience, steadiness, and his love for me.
We thought we'd have many more texts, and so the testimony they were conveying never stood out.
But every "Got to work safe," "See you tonight," "Can't wait until tomorrow" speaks of love and companionship that was easy to take for granted when living in the moment.
I will still mourn those days that will not end completely, but time is moving on, and with perspective, I can learn to be more appreciative of what we had instead of holding on to the bitterness of what I lost.
56-60, F
