It's a common phrase that you've probably heard many, many times. Grieving people do it more often than they realize. I do it more than I realize. Today, it seems like I'm engrossed in it. I'm still in his clothes that I slept in last night that now smell like him because every once in awhile, I will spritz his cologne on his clothes just so that I can smell him. I am still in our bed. I am still wrapped in his final blanket. I am beside his remains and alongside of the Randy-dog I made. I squeeze his paw all of the time in order to hear his voice. I look at his photos.
I decided to make a quilt out of some of his shirts and I have picked those shirts which I will have on our bed when it is finished. It was easy for me to deal with Randy's pants because I don't wear pants and they don't fit anyone I know. It was an easier task for me to bag those up and donate them to a local Christian thrift shop. There have been a few things I have given to people with reason but there's plenty I have continued to hold onto because it was a piece of him.
For those that weren't around when Randy was in the hospital, I had told people that I would get up in the night and dry heave because I was in a constant panic and anxiety attack. But in the weeks following, it really didn't stop. I felt funny and I didn't really know what was wrong. I just didn't feel right. The night before I left to Florida, I took a pregnancy test to be sure. I knew the chances weren't likely but I did it anyway. Randy and I were cautious because we knew that it would be dangerous for us to have a child. We're talking severe birth defects as a result of his chemo! We also knew that we probably wouldn't have that full life with a child and that's not fair to the child. We always said I was a "no baby station". In the midst of this, I was grasping at straws. A piece of me hoped I would have a piece of him here and at the same time, knowing what that would mean. It was a bittersweet moment when that test was negative. I was grasping at straws, trying to hold on to the beautiful man that I had lost.
I feel like my life will be a continued grasping, just trying to hold onto what is left. What do you hold onto when nothing is left?
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