Donna and Jim

Donna and Jim

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Sundays are the hardest...

On Sundays, we always lazed around in our pjs and watched movies. I'd pile up in Jim's lap and we'd laugh and talk or sometimes just sit in silence and snuggle. This is my fifth Sunday without him and it gets harder with each one that passes. There seems to be no relief from the pain. I want to scream. I want to die. I want to feel something besides hurt. It seems like it will never ever end. I was reading another blog written by a lady who lost her husband fifteen years ago. I shudder to imagine fifteen years without Jim. I don't want to. People say that will change. I don't know that I believe that. I want to live a little longer. I want to see our boys out on their own and doing well in life. Then I want to quietly go to where he is, waiting for me. I see nothing else to look forward to.

I wallow in self pity and pain in the evenings, during the times when it would have been just us, at home, boys in their rooms doing teenage things, and the business of the day has ended. Multiply that by ten and it's what Sundays feel like. I should try to distract myself, I guess, but it's hard to do. I can't focus or concentrate on anything for more than five minutes or so. Then my mind just wanders back to Jim. Then I remember, he's left me here all alone. And I want to die all over again.

No comments:

Post a Comment