After four years that on some days feel like an eternity and on others feel more like L just died yesterday, I ask myself this question often. Trouble is that I don’t know what ‘There’ looks like. I’ve made a lot of changes in my life–[physical and mental and emotional. I have changed my living space three times–as in physically moved from one abode to another. I am getting ready to do that yet again, but this time it feels like this might finally be ‘home.’
Shortly after L died, I started to ‘downsize’–actually I drew into my shell, making myself and the space I occupied as small as possible because that felt easier to manage. This new space will be larger than any place I have ever lived and the adventure of spreading myself over that space will no doubt prove challenging. And yet perhaps it is an omen that tells me I have moved on, become more settled in this new landscape that is my life. There have been other omens as well….
After years of half-heartedly trying to get my weight under control and take better care of my physical health, I have made some actual progress. Also I have begun to accept that I can fill my days with work and activity but for the most part, the nights are going to be long and lonely. Sometimes there’s nothing to do but go to bed at eight and wait for tomorrow. I have come to a new appreciation of my friends–recognizing that they are there when/if I need them and that they care deeply, even though sometimes it may seem as if they have overlooked me as they gather for dinners or plays or such. And when my reaction is to be hurt, I try to think ‘blessing’ and move on. I have made efforts beyond what either L or I would have thought possible to reach out and form new contacts.
And although all of these things are beyond hard for me, I see positive results and so I keep on keeping on. Day in and night out I feel L’s presence with me…sometimes I am out for a walk and I see something that triggers a memory–and a smile. Sometimes I talk aloud to him, ‘showing’ him something I know he would have enjoyed.
And so the days and weeks and months and years pass and it occurs to me that perhaps there is no end of this trail–this is the road I am on. L and I came to a fork and he had to go a different way, and for now I must follow the path that lies before me.