Aside from the June gloom, the widows I know complain of the loneliness. It is such a difficult part of the death. Initially as I mourned, I missed him, wanted him to fill the emptiness in my heart and in the house. Gradually I have gotten use to missing him, even though at times I am filled with such profound sadness, I can fall to my knees and scream. But I am also left with facing being alone, something that takes me quite by surprise, because it is so hard to get used to.
I have written before about how the theme of being alone has moved in and out of my life before Bruce's death. Why is it so difficult now? If I had small children at home now, would I still feel so alone? How much of the feeling of being alone is tied to the grief and how much relates to the actual day to day emptiness? I try to puzzle this out as if I can come to some magic conclusion and my life would be better. I am offended that the aloneness has wrapped itself around me and I am suffocating with the weight of it.
Why am I so needy and why is being alone so hard? I want to embrace it. I can think back to times in my past when the house was so chaotic with children and pets and him that I longed for some peace and quiet. Well now every day is quiet, but there is no peace-just a long lonely silence.
My widowhood is so multi-layered, so many things to mourn and get used to.