We write about widowhood as we live it. Together we examine the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of life as a widowed person. The views expressed here are those held by each individual author. We take no credit for their brillance; we just provide them with a forum for expressing their widowed journey in words that are uniquely their own.
Monday, July 25, 2011
The Look of Love.
I have been missing Michael terribly today. I'm not sure why, but it was one of those days where my heart just didn't want to accept that he is indeed gone.
Throughout the day I kept picturing him looking deep into my eyes. I kept feeling his gaze, and kept sensing his touch. It will be two years in September, yet these days still arrive where I can't make sense of the fact that he is no longer here with me. I just kept asking myself over and over, why?
I hate when I get like this, because it feel pointless. It happened. Move on.
On my usual Sunday drive back from visiting my folks I was listening to some CD's I threw into the car. One that I hadn't listened to in awhile was Shelby Lynne's "Just a Little Lovin'." It's one of my favorites, as it combines Shelby's sultry voice with a collection of songs from one of my all time favorites, Dusty Springfield. As I was getting lost in song after song, I realized that I was falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of longing.
At one point my daughter removed her headphones from the iPod that she was listening to, and asked who was singing. I began telling her about taking Michael to see Shelby Lynne in concert. As I spoke I realized that it was the last concert, and likely one of the last night's out, that we had together. I remember him sitting next to me, smiling, and moving to the music. I remember looking over at him and seeing those beautiful eyes focused on my own.
It was such a simple, yet touching moment, as Shelby sang those words, "the look, of love..." which took Michael and I to a place of bliss. I knew I wouldn't have him much longer, but I was so happy in that moment. I was feeling so much love for him, and blessed to have his love in return.
Then those final words.
Don't ever go.
Don't ever go.
I love you so.
Labels:
Dan Cano,
gay widower,
grief recovery,
missing him.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
one of my favorite photos of him, dan. Made me stop crying, seeing that face this morning. Weird huh?
ReplyDeleteDan, I have felt the same as you- it really is like you know me! It has been two years for me too!. I especially like the like where you say how youhate feeling this way-it is pointlesss and like you I want to move on. I was doing similiar things yesterday, listening to songs that reminded me of him and looking at his picture I took when we were young. It stare at me too! Thanks for letting me know I am not alone in what I am feeling/ doing!
ReplyDeleteDan, I just got done talking to my grief therapist about how pointless it is too keep feeling this painful longing that won't bring him back. I am ready to just get over it and can't stop all the triggers and sadness from seeping back in. She told me that was the problem. That I was trying to avoid the pain and I needed to do the exact opposite. She said, You are not done grieving yet! You need to greive more! Not less!. I was so pissed. Mark died 23 months ago! I am ready to feel better!I have worked really hard at doing everything I have been told to do! How can she tell me to grieve more not less!? But when I stopped to think about it. She was right. I wasn't done grieving. So I am trying to embrace those moments, those hours and even sometimes the entire day, going back to crying, journaling and remembering what I have lost. It is helping. It has been about three weeks and I seem to healing more. Thankyu for sharing with us. It helps so much to hear your feelings!- cheryl
ReplyDeleteDan - these words are waves of truth and they feel that way too.
ReplyDeleteI have a picture of my husband two weeks before he died. He is looking straight at me trough the lens of the camera and all I can see is love.
i look at that picture often, to try and remember what it felt like to feel that love.
Today while driving home from the cottage with two of my grandchildren in the car, the eldest said "I just can't believe he is gone", said with such emotion . I thought "Wow, she feels it too".
When I know I need to grieve I put on a playlist on my ipod that I created only for him. All of the music brings it back, him back in so many ways.
Thank you for sharing this.
This beautiful memory and moment of wanting to move on yet, wanting to stay right there with them.
what a wonderful picture you posted of Michael. He sounds like an amazing man.
Peace.
Oh yeah, eyes really are quite magical.
ReplyDeleteOne of my strongest all-time memories is sitting in the sun one day, very early in our relationship and just sinking into Greg's eyes as we just stared at each other, grinning like fools. I have a mental snapshot of the exact colour his eyes were in bright light and it is so precious.....