As I lay in bed last night, I had the mental picture of my large pit of firsts. I counted each boulder of firsts ... first month, first car drive after the funeral in his car, first time I purchased toilet paper on my own ... these were relatively small in comparison to the Wedding Anniversary, his birthday, Christmas, Valentine's Day, my birthday ... these are quite large and still very moist from all of the tears. Last night, as I heaved the rather large boulder of June 27th - 27 years of knowing Bill, 11 months without him I felt my exhaustion. The day was long filled with tears and as I watched the stone rolling down to the bottom of the pit; it chipping away at the boulders already there, their fragments breaking loose and falling deeper, out of sight. I wondered if I will ever see the boulders of firsts finally start filling the hole, leaving only room for the pebbles of sadness to sift down through as I stand at this familiar edge opening my heart to gently release them, for the rest of my life.
This morning, I mentally plant a tree, I plant his favourite hostas and a garden filled with red flowers and drag a bench. If I am to come back to this pit, I might as well make it beautiful and comfortable!
It's such a struggle, I'm with you.
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