The landscape of widowhood.
The Alaskan tundra.
The Sahara Desert.
The Australian Outback.
Every side road in between cities and towns.
This parched landscape
This existence of one where there was once two.
I picture nothingness
In the midst of these tundras and deserts.
Nothingness under bright blue skies and a sun so piercing
It makes me squint my eyes.
The only water available streams from overheated eyes…
The eyes he used to look into, and smile.
Crawling on hands and knees, searching for something familiar,
Aching muscles and shattered self…
I don’t know where I’m going with this.
It’s been a rough day emotionally.
All I want is the life I had with Chuck,
And that life is dead and gone,
Same as he is.
Do you ever get tired of being brave and courageous,
Even though that’s a very real part of you?
I think of myself as Thing One and Thing Two now and wouldn’t a shrink have a field day with that?
I’m that woman with parched throat and hollow self, crawling through the tundra and desert,
And I’m the woman decked out in pink, foraging for hugs so that I don’t lose my sanity,
Keeping the Love front and center, so that I don’t lose my fucking sanity.
I’m Thing One and Thing Two and both are real.
I desperately miss my beloved husband, Chuck.
The longing for him, the yearning for his touch…that’s my desert. My tundra. My Outback.
And I don’t know what to do with any of it.
So, I write this…