, , ,

Losing you is like losing me

Whole pieces of me are gone . . . I know not where

I’m not sure who I am

or if I can ever be who I was.

I was your wife, your confidant, your comforter,

your encourager, your lover . . . 

It is as if my heart is gone.

It beats and I function but . . . 

I wonder why sometimes.

When I’ve finished work or made a difficult trip

There is noone to call and say, “I’m O.K.”


“I’m on my way home.”

There is noone to tell me I look great

when I get dressed.

Noone to look for when I am playing the piano at church

No distinctive laugh to listen for when I’m in a 

crowd or entering a church function

Noone to touch when I wake up during the night

Noone to wait supper for.

Noone to fill this aching void I feel 

in the pit of my stomach.

Will this ever change?

Submitted by Muriel Lush: ‘in memory of my husband’ (2008)