okay, so yes, I have been posting more, and yes, it is mostly about the loss of my husband. It may seem redundant, maybe over kill, or it may be something you have no possible interest in. I apologize but I will probably be doing this for a while. If I don't get it out I'll explode or implode or something. Writing is my therapy, my release, my valve to allow some of the pent up emotions to escape in a controlled release. Its cheaper than a doctor and has fewer side effects than all those prescribed medicines.
I spend a good bit of time on social media sites. Every post I see from the people my husband once worked with, reminds me of him, but it also allows me to feel closer to what he loved and those he loved doing it with. I enjoy seeing the photos that are shared, seeing the places that he must have seen. While I had an idea that this is a beautiful land, seeing the photos taken of actual places, mountains topped with snow, lakes, rivers, elk and buffalo, all make me yearn to actually travel and see them for myself. Makes me want to get in the car and take off, driving across this land, wondering if he drove on that same roadway.
There are times in which it almost feels as if I am riding the roads he once traveled, eaves dropping on conversations that he himself probably had many times over as I read the things that people share. The conversations that they have with each other. All of the times they make sure everyone knows of detours, places that are closed, best places to eat, the list goes on and on. I'll read and I'll smile and I'll sigh a deep sigh as I wish, that just once, I had gone with him on a run.
This morning a trucking company's commercial was running on a local radio station, letting everyone know that they are hiring. If I'm not mistaken my husband tried to get hired on once by that company. I'm glad that it didn't work out. The one that he was working with when he passed is a really good, family oriented company. He may could have found one making more money, but I doubt there is another one that is so much like a big extended family.
I never know when something may hurt, like a serrated knife stuck deep into my chest and twisted, or when I can just let something flow over me and pass on by. I do know that even when I seem calm, the emotions just under the skin are a mess. Such as the molten lava just below the surface that bubbles and builds until it has to be released in the form of a volcanic eruption. I work hard to keep it under control and not allow things to bother me, or to show that I've been bothered as the possibility is real that it would only make matters worse. So I take those deep breaths, count to a thousand and walk on. All of this is making me more jumpy and nervous than I usually am. Lets face it, when one jumps because they think they see something out of the corner of their eye, and it turns out only to be the seat belt sliding back into place, you have a problem.
So, I'll write, then I'll write some more. In the middle of all that writing, I hope to find some truths, I hope to share some truths. I hope to make myself feel better and hopefully help someone else feel better-- even just a little-- in the process. I have learned, that I had no idea that you could miss someone as badly as I miss my husband. I had no idea, that his passing would leave such a giant hole in my heart and in my life. I had no idea, but I'm finding out, and I'm learning how to walk all over again.