*Home*?


Tom’s truck is in the garage.  My heart used to flip when the garage door would slowly ascend and I’d see Tom’s truck there.  It meant that he was home before me and there was a smile and a hug waiting to greet me.  

Now when the door opens and I see his truck slowly appear, my heart sinks.

And I can’t help the thoughts constantly swirling in my brain.  

I have a long way to go I hope, and he would tell you that I’m always late getting places anyway, but maybe now I can see it as another symbol.

That he made it *Home*.  That I should take my time, because I’ve got lots more to do here. He knows of another plan for me to carry out and he knows I have the strength to do it. 

He’s used to waiting on me.  

There will be a smile and a hug to greet me when I eventually get *Home* too.

Author: Admin

I was happily married for almost 24 years. My husband and I had were raising two children. Shortly before our 24th anniversary, Tom died suddenly of heart attack. My world stopped. With kids (ages 16 and 13) there isn't the luxury of mourning at my own pace. I had to roll up my sleeves and help each with their own grief all the while managing mine. It is very hard. I am sad that some of you may have found this blog as you are trying to navigate your own traumatic event. Let me be here for you. Grief is fickle. Just when you think you are strong enough to manage a second, a minute, an hour, Grief changes her mind and punches you in the gut. You are not alone. I'm going through it, too. I am here for you.

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