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)