29

29 – Thinking there aren’t that many things that stick with you like the widow thing. It carves a piece out of your heart and leaves you to carry on like that, with the wind blowing through your middle. Many things come forward, new chances, new days, new weather, new thoughts and feelings and songs, but the widow thing remains.

But I chose life. I choose it still, so I press forward.

Today it’s sunny, not quite as cold, but it’s blustery in a way that moves me, not only physically because the wind at my back pushes me onward, but emotionally. Somehow the wind remains comforting, like an animal that won’t go away, like a faithful friend, something I can count on when my thoughts drag me elsewhere.

Almost ten years of widowhood and yet it could be a moment, or an hour, certainly not more than a day or a week. Love remains. Loss lingers. I keep moving forward, different scenery, different man, different dog, same heart, same memories, essentially the same me.

I suppose it’s not a bad thing. Life is short. Best to live it.

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