The View from Here

I walk through the too quiet house, over and over, the animals following on my heels. They sense my sadness and know that things aren’t as they should be. I feel you, see your touch on absolutely everything that makes our home beautiful. My world has shrunk to the boundaries of this house and yard; a peaceful, solitary life, with one glaring omission. I am a prisoner in a place I love without the one I love.

I follow our daily rituals looking for some sense of normalcy; Sunday ‘Big Breakfast’ (but without your special blueberry pancakes). I work in the yard and water your beautiful gardens, clean the house, set the lights as evening falls…but some of those rituals sit quietly, waiting for you to be home; setting the coffee machine, putting out your juice and vitamins- some of the little things I do to show you I love you. There are clothes missing in the laundry basket, the television is quiet, I don’t hear your laughter or your gentle breathing as you sleep on the pillow next to me.

Everything feels hollow without you here in this place you always call ‘the house that love built’. None of this means anything without you, the person who brought light and love into my world. You, with your kindness, compassion, wonderfully goofy sense of humor, and huge heart, are the spirit of this place, my anchor in life.

Sometimes if I let my mind truly allow it all into the silence of my heart, everything that has happened to us and to the world in this terrible beautiful spring, the emotions are too intense and I feel unable to bear the load. Tears come, cries of anguish in the tomb-like quiet. But, I have to be strong for you and for us, confident in the knowledge that this, too, shall pass. This nightmare will end.

And so I get out of bed early each morning, focused on preparing for your return. I keep my body busy and my mind processing, trying to understand the lessons we are supposed to learn in all of this. I look for humor where I can, I look for small moments of beauty to sustain me. I take care of this home that love built so that it will be ready to welcome you whenever that may be. And, I say your name in my heart’s prayer, willing you to heal, impatient to hold you in my arms again.

“I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. ‘Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but they whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves their conduct, will pursue their principles unto death.” -Leonardo da Vinci