Persian New Year starts at the spring equinox, so it will be 6:24.18 am Monday morning. This is their biggest holiday. It lasts two weeks and is the equalivilant of Christmas and New Years rolled into one.
Last year I surprised Shah by setting a haftseen table for him. It’s the equivalent of a Christmas tree. He was completely surprised and so happy and sent photos to all his friends talking about what I did. It was one of my biggest wins.
And then this year.
I set it up alone at the cemetery. That’s apparently what tradition dictates, and it felt as right as this wrong can feel.
The last week or two have been the hardest for me so far. I know even harder days could still come and at that point I will probably be completely non-functioning. I feel like if I don’t get a break soon I will break.
Sometimes my ability to function is a positive. Right now I think it’s just causing me to do more lasting harm to myself. I don’t have anymore strength. People act like they have forgotten what happened and go about their happy busy lives not realizing I’m hanging by a thread.
My love was killed less than 10 months ago. I am alone now. I miss him more than words can say. Breathing is a chore. I spent almost every evening alone with a toddler. Everything is hard and he never comes home. I don’t get a break at five or six or seven. It doesn’t stop on the weekends.
People can give gifts, but no one else shares the responsibility for finances, child raising, meals, cleaning.
I miss him with everything in me.
Someday I’ll write a post full of ideas for how to help the widow and single parent. Someday I hope to connect the needy with those in need.
But today, I just ask for your prayers that I make it one more day and then one more day.