Grief hope trauma widow

The Slow Sorting of the Brain 

Last night the shape of the pillows looked so much like Shah, I actually had to reach my foot over to check to see if he was there. I still want this to have been a dream. The good and the bad, I wish he was still here with me.

And then in my dreams, he had left and gone back to Iran. I remember thinking it was better when he had died and not left me on purpose. It was a struggle to clear the confusion of my dream and remember he only died. He never chose to leave us.

Missing someone in heaven is different than missing someone who left and is still on earth. Yes, loss is loss, but it can also be different. My brain is still struggling to understand and accept the temporary finality of physical death. I can only imagine that it’s so much harder to accept the finality of someone who chooses to leave, especially when it is as sudden.

Though I long for Shah to be back and for our warm family times to return, I take comfort in the fact that he loved us til the end, and loves us still.

There is still an adventure as we figure out how to see the reality of ethernal life in the face of physical death, as I learn to live knowing I am loved, as I learn to struggle through the seemingly impossible task for single parenthood while running an organization.

I still feel such unity with Shah, though I cannot see him I know his spirit and my sprite are connected in God.

There is a warm peace this morning despite the knife of loss that is still stabbing my heart.

Oh how I miss my love.

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