Friday, October 10, 2014

The Missing of You

Something strange has been happening lately.
Perhaps for about the past month or so, this odd thing has been inside me.

It is the missing of you - which, of course, has always been there since that day you died and I died too - but this is different. This is different than it just being there as a part of me. This missing of you is a force. It is an energy all it's own, and it takes over my thoughts and my brain and my heart, until literally the only thought that plays over and over and over again, is: I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. 

Sitting on the train and then on the bus to work - I miss you. Lying in bed and staring at the wall, awake much longer and much later than I should be - I miss you. Teaching a comedy class or an Acting class and giving instruction and being professional, while inside thinking - I miss you. Pretending I'm listening to the man at the register, as he rings up my items and makes uninteresting small talk with me - I miss you. Reading on Facebook that yesterday was your best friend and his wife's 23rd wedding annivesary, and realizing again and again that we never even made it to our 5th - I miss you.

Is it the change in seasons? Is it because it's my favorite season of autumn right now? Is it because my birthday just passed? Is it because Im writing this book about you and us? Is it because our "would have been 8th" wedding anniversary is coming up in just a couple of weeks? Is it because your "would have been 50" birthday is coming up the week after our would have been wedding anniversary? Or is it because after 3 years of grieving and processing, the only real thing I'm left with is the intense and forever missing of you?

Yes. Yes, yes, yes, and yes. It is all of that, and maybe also none of that. It is my body and soul feeling your absence more now, than ever. Why now? Who knows? Who cares? I just can't stop missing you. The feeling is so strong, that I say it out loud over and over throughout the day, into the thin, crisp air. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. It is so dominant that the other day, while attempting to write out a list of something for my grief-therapist, the only thing that came out on the page was I miss you, Boo. Oh, how I miss you.
It is so natural that I pet our kitties, and I say to them with tears in my eyes: Do you miss BooBear? I miss Boo, and Boo misses you too. I miss my Boo. 

It is so strange. I got through the 3 year death anniversary in July with flying colors. I was in San Diego for Camp Widow and I was feeling great. I got through my birthday absolutely wonderfully. I was at Camp Widow in Toronto and feeling superb, even wanting to dance and celebrate. And then something just sort of happened, over the past few weeks. My energy just turned very, very sad. I know I will come out of this, and I know I will feel other, different emotions soon. Maybe this is happening right now because it needs to. Maybe I feel like I never got to tell him I miss him or I love him when he died, so maybe I can't ever say it enough times now. I really don't know. But whatever the reasons, this is what is coming out today. This is what needs to be said. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. 

Maybe it's selfish - I don't really care
you promised forever
we never got there. 

If you're gonna be Dead, 
it's not asking a lot,
that your soul stays with me,
it's all that I've got.

Where you go,
I should be.
Where you go,
Stay with me. 


  1. I think that the most difficult thing for me is that I never had a chance to say good bye. The last thing that I said to my husband was "See you later". What would I give to have even 5 minutes to tell him how much I loved him. I am sure that he knew but it would give me peace just knowing that I could actually tell him. Of course, that's not going to happen. In the meantime, I just miss him.

    1. Me too Ruthie. No goodbye - although I would have never said goodbye anyway. But no I love you, I miss you, thank you for giving me love, good morning, nothing. Just here, then gone. Three years later and I still dont remember our "last words" or last moments together. I dont even remember the last WEEK that he was alive. Nothing. Its very hard.

  2. Once again, the ebb and flow of moving on, and then being drawn back into what was. I say "I miss you" over and over, every day, still, 4 years later. The missing never stops. It morphs and changes as we do, but always comes back to the same thing, he's not here. I've learned change of seasons affects me, something about time moving on and the things we'd be doing together, and now we aren't. Hang in there, Kelley, there's a lot of us hanging with you, thanks for sharing where you're at.

  3. Kelley, Yes, the missing. It is so much stronger now for me than before. Sometimes I think it is because as I learn to adapt to living with loss and some of the panic subsides and some of the shock, more space opens up for just the pure missing. I love this photo of you and Don. At your wedding, in a time of heightened emotion and adrenaline, there is such peace, and calm on both of your faces. Peace and calm that comes from being with exactly the right person and being so completely steeped in love in every molecule of your being. Hhugs!!

  4. That deep missing is a physical sensation that never goes away, I think. Love your posts Kelley, you are a wonderful writer...the way you describe the emotion is so clear and powerful. Hugs.

  5. dear Kelly, everything you wrote about is what is happening to me - the constant refrain, I miss you, in everything I see, everywhere I go, every thought of the past, the future, the now of it. do you find that after a few days, you get so filled up with the missing, there are whole days that follow when every last detail of your missing Don brings on tears - and they simply will not stop? there must be some reason, and I do characterize it as odd just as you do. of, course our missing our husbands has been a theme from the time they died. of course, we have missed them. but it seems as though I can't get past the thought of how profoundly I miss Hugh - like "miss" is completely inadequate, but can't find another word that would express what I feel like NOW. maybe it's a way of some sort of transition from the "wishing" he was here for all our life to unfold the way we thought it would, to some semblance of accepting he is gone. I noticed that when I say in my mind and heart, "I miss you" I don't follow it as much as before with, "I wish you were here." I only know I could say I miss you a thousand times a day, and that it never feels like I've expressed it enough. I am so sorry, Kelley, I didn't mean to go on and on about myself - but I am so lonely and was so relieved to see your post that completely resonated with me. thank you so much. your poem is beautiful. I am going to write it down and hope it will help me. OxxO, karen

    1. Yes that is it exactly. no matter how many times I say it or feel it or write it, it is never ever enough. Will it ever be? I dont know.

  6. Oh yes Kelley. Yes, just missing him. That is the part that is so hard to "explain" to friends and family. Yes, I am managing. Yes, I smile more each day. Yes, I am relearning how to have fun again but NO I will never stop missing him. Those things don't seem to coexist well for those who have never experienced loss. They don't get how all poweful that "missing" is while you also are moving forward with living life. But you get it. And you are still here for me to read when I wish I could somehow put into words what I am feeling. You have a gift Kelley (many gifts). Thanks for sharing your gifts with so many people who are "missing" loved ones.

    1. Thank you Carolyn. I am still here, and I will be here for a long time, because I still have a LOT to process and write about. Maybe there will be a day where I dont feel the need to write about this stuff anymore, but right now, I cant see that day .....

  7. Thank you Kelly.
    This is beautiful despite being so sad.
    I love fall but hate the passage of time.
    And the feeling that Dave got so ripped off and is missing out on so much that he would have loved.
    I try to imagine that he's seeing amazing things and is thinking the same thing. That I'M the one missing out.
    His 'would have been 50' birthday is also coming up soon.

    It very much sucks. This whole thing.

  8. Dear Kelly,

    I always read your post. You have a magical way of using words to frame and give substance to feelings that are so hard to describe. I will save your poem and carry it with me. It is perfect. I often ask my husband, Bill, to wait for me. I know he will, but I need the comfort those words provide to me.

    Thank you for being you and sharing your gifts with us.

  9. Hello, Kelly lovely wedding photo..I wish u had gotten more years.. Me tooooo....I'm coming up on my anniversary..memoriesssss...hang in there your personality is full of life!!! U r a good writer..Gods Blessings

  10. Kelly I celebrated my birthday at Camp Widow East in Toronto in March. When I got home it really hit my how much I miss my beloved. It was the third year of my husband's death in July also. Thanks for sharing your feelings and thoughts. Hang in there.

    Maria O.

  11. Kelly,

    My bride Sally died in March 2014, 4 days short of her 62nd birthday. We had 31 short years together and were sure hoping for many more. I just discovered this site and am deeply touched by the pouring out of the emotions here. One cannot even imagine how your life turns upside instantly. To know is to having had to live it. Life is really really different when your world gets turned upside down. Thanks for posting your thoughts as no one really knows how to help if there was a way. I too will be a much better person for this sad event and I will be a much better partner and more thoughtful person. Thank you and we all will make with a bunch of twists and turns.

    Montana City Montana