The moving is done, the shop is empty except a couple things he has to go back and get tomorrow. All he’s said to me so far is that it finally hit him- emotionally. But that’s all it took, thankfully I ran some errands and I spent the entire time crying the shoulder heaving cries. Not for me, but for him. For him, for his loss. I texted his best friend from high school and asked him to give him a call in a couple days. Knowing my husband he needs a few days of quiet… not that he will get that in this house. But a bunch of people descending on him is NOT what he would want.
I cried buckets and buckets on my errands, I could barely see through the tears as I was driving. I wish there was something I could do to help him. But there isn’t – he has to deal with it his own way.
And I know this should be about him, but as his wife, as his partner, and as the person sharing his life, hopes and dreams I too feel the loss. I feel the weight of an elephant on me. It’s like my depression hit another low. This picture was posted in one of my support groups on Facebook, and it hit my heart straight through.