This month – 14 days from today – will be the 1st year
anniversary of that horrible day that led to the ER visit … that
led to my husband’s physical death December 14th, 2018.
It is difficult.
One of his killers are still in the Park. I can’t escape seeing
her – she has ingrained herself into EVERY event happening here; which
means that I leave the Park to find entertainment opportunities, and
socialization engagements. I don’t want to be around her, if I don’t have to be.
I
have spread my wings since march 2019, and have learned to go to places we used
to go – and to new places we have never gone together.
I
revisit {our} places, because I don’t want to forget those memories; and
I must come to terms with being comfortable in them: they are unavoidable, as
they are local, and I do not want to relocate.
I
go to new places because I like adventure … and Bob would want me to get on
with living until I join him in that celestial city beyond the clouds; later
on.
But,
no matter how busy I keep myself – or how often I get out of the house – or how
many times I engage in solo activities … I STILL COME BACK TO A HOME HE NO
LONGER LIVES IN: He will never walk through that door with me; he will never
inhabit any of the rooms of our home, or our bed again.
THAT
I cannot escape/change/or manipulate.
People
telling me to do what I am already DOING is not helpful.
And
it changes nothing.
At
some point, I pray, that I can live fully … without being dragged BACK to
December 14th, 2018.
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