The Cold
by Zoe
I was alone in the house yesterday, no children, no dogs, just me and I cried until I screamed. I want him back, there must be some way because this cannot be real, this cannot be, he cannot be gone from my life, I have to wake up because I cannot be living in a world without him, this is a mistake. I could barely breath the pain is numbing. However, no matter how hard I beg, or what I do, he is gone, and whatever God or universe there is, my screams fall on deaf ears. With others around you make yourself hold it in; you have mechanical movement, but movement nonetheless. There are always those moments when you sit and look out a window, and the place where your heart was is now a weight, you feel the pain move up to your throat as you choke back tears that will not stop But the thing is, except for the pain, I feel nothing. That is not to say that some things have not changed. I have become accustomed to the fact that other people’s lives have moved on. I watch with the detachment of a 3 am infomercial the comings and goings of the lives around me. This one got together, this one broke up, this one had a baby this one did not; I smile and nod appropriately, or feign sympathy as needed. The fact is, I do not feel any of it, I am in a vacuum of my own pain, John is dead, and why do you just go forward with your life if he is dead? Do not get me wrong, I do not want to sit and cry to all of these people. No one wants to see the pain of a widow. I remind everyone of what a house of cards we all really live in. In addition, I truly do not want to hear the platitudes from people who do not know what to say. I know they do not know what to say, I do not know what to say. So why this, why now. Well we all know how it is, moments of their life, and death play over in your head, whether you want them to or not, and it is cold here. I keep thinking of the day John died. The nurses told me as long as his breathing stayed between 12 and 16 we were ok. I counted religiously. When the new shift came in, the nurse said, he sounded shallower than before. I said well his is still breathing between 12 and 16 so we are not any worse right??? I remember she smiled at me, but I cannot tell you what she said. Anyway, we ordered food and had it delivered to the room. My daughter took her order to go back to the hotel; I had not left John since he had gotten so ill. I got up and walked to the tray and was talking to him telling him what food was there and what taste I would be giving him (he could not swallow but I would take tastes and put them on my finger so he would have the flavor in his mouth) I remember saying Oh look they have yummy marinara. Then I felt it... I cannot even describe what it was but I felt it go up my back and I froze in that feeling for a second, or an eternity, and then I realized he was not breathing. All I could do was cry and scream for help. But he kept getting cold and he hated being cold but no matter what I did I could not warm him. Was this nine months ago, or a week ago, or was it yesterday. It does not really matter, it just is. So today, I sit in my office and look out over the city. Not the city I was supposed to be living in, but the city I live in since he died. The day moves forward the office hums, but behind it, all is the cold I could not fix for the man I loved more than anything. I cannot do this without you, I do not want to. One breath, one step, one day at a time
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