Today was not an easy day. It wasn’t a bad day. Long ago, I quit saying a day was bad because I was sad. Sad days are hard and they can’t be ignored, they have to be felt before you can come out the other side.
After completing this gallery of photos of my late husband I felt fine. But then I went in the room later and looked closer, and I was reminded of just how happy he was, how happy we were.
I lost a golden man, with a deep sense of inner joy and peace. I should be doing this social distancing thing by his side. He would have loved this home and family time even more than I do. Really, he taught me to enjoy being still.
So many dates coming up in the next few weeks. Iranian New Year, his biggest holiday. Our anniversary. That means is almost the anniversary of our last vacation, our trip to meet his friends in San Francisco, where so many of my clearest memories happened. I wish I could remember every day we spent together, but maybe then I couldn’t handle the loss.
Finally today, the sun came out. I got out of bed and followed Zoya on a walk. When that got too exhausting I sat in a chair and looked at the sky. As the sun warmed my soul, my energy returned. I was able to get up and enjoy the last hour or two, and build that arbor that they said would require two people.
Today my heart is broken. Zoya is well. We have all we need. I’m grateful to remember how wonderful he was. But as the brain heals from trauma and the memories return, the heart grieves again.