Closing a Gap isn’t Healing a Wound

I cannot think.  I cannot.

I can only cry.

Darkness.  Hopeless.

 

Two and a half years later.

Time has healed.  I have healed.

And tonight I cry because I cannot see where he would fit.

This life that I am chasing, pursuing,

the things that are new and different,

our friends’ new babies,

the many people in my life who never knew him at all,

my church home,

this home,

my bed,

my career,

my patterns,

my dinner plates,

my coffee mugs,

my dining room table,

this very chair I’m sitting in –

he knows none of these.

 

All of these things have sewn together the gap.  Yet the wound lays open tonight.

 

I didn’t want to do this without him.  Any of this.  This ache will always, always be with me, won’t it?

 

It will.

I cannot run from it, hide from it, write enough to numb it.

It is here.

It is mine.

 

And I cannot breathe under the weight of it.

Closing a gap does not heal a wound.

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9 thoughts on “Closing a Gap isn’t Healing a Wound

  1. Tricia, the ache WILL go away as will most, but never all, of the memories (even after 26 years).

  2. Oh Tricia… We are all so sorry. We are sad with you… Your ache is weighing heavy on us all as we pray for hope to find its way back into your heart. We will stand in this gap – praying for and loving you.
    Love, Kristi

  3. Very well spoken, Tricia. Some days I wonder if it will ever get better?

  4. I secretly ask this question daily: is there ever truly, honestly a new normal? Or is there just a patched-up, pinned-together necessary normal? Not sure, but I’m trying to trust hard. Praying for your heart and your looming anniversary. Praying it will be filled with surprising levels of wonderful.

  5. Hi, Tricia I am your Mom’s cousin Jill. Remember me? Sometimes you post things that grab my heart…and this was one. I lost my Dad almost 9 yrs ago and your post still works for me. I lost all three of my pets in a house fire Dec 3, 2013…still cry everyday. Everyday. Keep it up, Tricia…You help me a lot.

  6. You are a wonderful writer because I can feel your pain. My heart truly feels crushed at the truth in your words.
    I lost my best friend, who happened to be my mom, last year. She lived in a small apartment attached to our home. I have lived my entire life with Mom always near me.
    Your words of a new life with new cups, plates, home…..show each step you are slowly, painfully taking to move forward. You don’t want to, but you know that you have to continue for your boys.
    I pray that God grants you peace for your aching heart.

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