April 2, 2013

It seems that depression and grief go hand in hand.  I’ve not suffered from depression in my life, however, at this time I can feel it looming over my shoulder just waiting to get a “foot in the door.”

Or it creeps around and makes an appearance at unsuspecting times.  Like during the seasons changing, or a full moon.  Or driving. It’s hard to tell the difference between sadness and depression during mourning.  They are constant companions.  I drove to work one recent morning and the fog was very thick.  Visibility was limited.  As I drove, I realized that this was the color of my life.  It was gray and heavy.  I felt at home.

 

 

 

What would I have done without my family? Two of my sisters stood at my husband’s death bed with me and literally held me up at both sides.  They stayed with me for weeks afterwards, never letting me stay a night alone in the house.  My adult children rallied around and we were wobbly like a wheel without a spoke.  We were shaken to the core without 5 of us together.  My family, immediate and extended is a part of my life on a daily basis.  They are the people I call when I need to hear love, they are the people I call when I need to be distracted.  And they are the people I know miss my husband almost as much as me.