This is the second evening in the last week that I am finding myself at home alone. I can’t help but reminisce about the days when noise filled every corner of my home. The sounds of my Love laughing or whistling. Of music blaring from my oldest’s bedroom, and the tittering of tiny voices coming from the family room, and my other three playing together. Now it is just me, and my dog (thank goodness for her). The tv is on much too loud, but it is the only way to drown out the silence in the house.
I made it through another Christmas without him. My chest still tight at the sight of his empty stocking. This year, my oldest wasn’t home for much of Christmas Day. She now has her own husband and little one, and in-laws to visit on Christmas Day. My younger three insisted on our “traditional” Christmas Dinner. My Love’s favourites. I struggled to cook that day, but did it for the kids. It was a quick, quiet dinner. Different for sure, but still nice all the same. I am thankful I still have my three at home with me, to help make my life a little less lonely.
On nights like tonight, though, when they are all out with their boy/girlfriends or over at their own friend’s homes, I realize how quiet my life can actually be. So much has changed, My whole life, almost unrecognizable. Isn’t it supposed to get easier? This is, after all, my fourth Christmas without him. I think back to my first..how numb I was. In a fog, really. I don’t know how I got through it. I guess I have made some progress. There are still tears at the stroke of midnight, when my family wishes each other a Merry Christmas. I hold my kids all a little tighter, and squeeze them all a little longer…hoping to chase away the memories of My Love’s strong arms around me as he whispered “Merry Christmas” in my ear. How loved I felt when he was still here with me.
Will I ever feel loved like that again? I’m starting to think that there’s no way…