AND IT STARTS AGAIN
by Zoe
(Maryland )
You think that maybe you are making steps forward. Well even if you do not life pulls, you forward and you are along for the ride. So there is movement. I hold on to a tiny string that keeps me here, I thought it would be stronger as time went by, but I was wrong. It gets weaker with the weight of my grief.
John was a truck driver. He owned his own company, he owned his own truck. He was so proud of all that he had accomplished, and I was proud of him. It was so much a part of him. Every night I Look at John’s picture and I look at his truck. He had to put it for sale when he got sick but it was at the Kenworth dealership where we were living. We went there together so many times. He would come home, we would take the truck in for service, then pick it up and move it to the yard until it was time for him to go. It was us, him sneaking up as if he was 20 climbing over the back of his pickup to surprise me as I sat waiting for him to drop it off. Just seeing him drive and smile at me, following him to the yard.
Seeing the truck on such a familiar place was like having a piece of him still. It was him, it defined him. We were in there together, I know every nook, I helped him clean it out when he got home or I would climb in and play around telling him I was going to learn to drive.
Saturday it was gone, they sold it.
The therapist said I should transfer my attachment to another object, I have so many. I could not make him understand, this was HIM. I have lost him again. Yes, there is a logical piece of my mind that says I knew they would sell it, but I DO NOT CARE. Another piece of the reality of him is gone. He died all over again this weekend. I cannot stop crying.
I can't do this, he had a company he was a truck driver and all of everything is just gone
I don't want to be here without him
I can barely smell his scent on the bag of clothes I have from the hospital
It's like he died all over again
I can't stand loosing him again
I just want to be with him he had such a hard life he should not have died
Oh god the little string I was holding onto is unraveling
I cannot do this without him.