I’m blogging every day over at “Letters to my husband” but that seems to mostly be me talking to G rather than me being me.
Sometimes though, I want to say stuff that I wouldn’t necessarily say to G … or at least not the same way…. and today is one of those days.
Basically … being a widow sucks.
But being a widow and trying to convince your kids that the sun will still shine and they will still have agood life and there is still fun to be had in the world, sucks even more when you don’t believe a word of what you are telling the beautiful, tear-stained faces of your heartbroken children.
The truth is, I ask myself how the hell we got *here* a thousand times a day.
It just does not compute that he isn’t coming back when I can’t even quite wrap my mind around the fact that he is really gone.
I can see the coffee cup he left in the shed still sitting there FFS.
Downstairs is still packed full of shite that he has collected over time. His stuff is just there waiting for him to come and pick it up again.
This widow business is really hard.